Category: Writing
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The Wood Duck Drum: A Father’s Measure, A Son’s Keeping
At the cabin, the work begins with what has fallen. A lightning-struck oak, opened by time and water becomes a drum. I stand in the lake and carve, an eagle circles overhead then leaves. I keep the rhythm and circle through hand, attention, and rhythm.
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A Northwoods Practice of Stillness, Light, and Listening: When Small is Beautiful
Stories Emerge Like Bears is a forthcoming lyric memoir by Gregory Ormson, set in a Northwoods cabin where attention, labor, and place shape a life lived at human speed. Snowmelt drips from the roof. I watch long enough to feel the pace of winter loosening its grip, giving itself to spring. The water drips without…
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Prime the Pump: What a Northwoods Cabin Taught Me About Learning and Attention
To get anything from my students I had to prime the pump. They were just like the pump, squeaking and whining before finally being coaxed out of their shells to participate.
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Stories Emerge Like Bears A Book Announcement
I’ve signed with Cornerstone Press to publish my lyric memoir Stories Emerge Like Bears Begins at a cabin without running water. You take hold of the red handle and work the pump. At first, there’s only sound, then rhythm takes hold and the water rises. I learned this by doing it at a place where…
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Why Liturgist of the Land
A Single Work Completed Does anyone experience a single work completed? A work done so perfectly that nothing more needs to be added or taken away. In my recent lyric essay “Liturgist of the Land: A Single Work Completed,” the entire meditation turns on four actions. They form the simplest structure of labor I have…
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Why “Liturgist of the Land: A Single Work Completed” Matters
Dig.Dump.Bury.Cover. Sometimes a piece of writing begins with an image that won’t leave . . . with fish remains buried in a deep hole. In “Liturgist of the Land: A Single Work Completed,” It was simple and exact: a gravedigger finishing the work in a deliberate sequence: Dig. Dump. Bury. Cover. Nothing added for appearance,…
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“Liturgist of the Land: A Single Work Completed”
Originally published in Flash the Court, March 2026 Read the full essay at Flash the Court Liturgist of the Land: A Single Work Completed Look around. People are constantly checking their cell phones. Something must be left undone. A complete fucking incompleteness, a permanent, angst-driven scratch. Sisyphus whined, “In this rhythm, I am caught.”…
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The Old Style Place keeping what refuses to be known quickly
I go to The Old Style Place not looking for a wizard, but to unmask and absorb what I was taught. I am grateful, and I am surfeit in the company of a crackling fireplace. At night, I sit quietly and listen to reinforce the balance of my soul.Recalibration begins when I build a fire…
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When Time Has Not Been Chosen, Attention Becomes the Work
At the gym, New Year 2026, a handwritten sign invited patrons to pick up a felt pen and mark their choice on a whiteboard: 1. Relive 2025. 2. Skip ahead to 2027. Four marks beside the first. Eight beside the second. What struck me was not the count, but the absence of a third option,…
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Tom Waits and a Hat Full of Rain
In the turning gyre of Midwestern rain and storms, life fired a curiosity that drove me to take the path of wonder in simple things, like delicate rain. Walking in the rain, I hear a child, and like the grass, she is in the moment. She gives me a gift, requiring that I pause. Did…