Tiny Talks is an interview series with Tiny Spoon’s talented contributors. This week we spoke with Brice Maiurro from our thirteenth issue.

Tiny Spoon: What kindles your creativity?

Brice Maiurro: Honestly, more than anything, discipline. Sitting down and doing the work. Creativity is a muscle and if you wait around for inspiration to strike you could be waiting a long time. With sitting down each day to write, I’ve developed a tool kit that helps me. I have a good list of prompts that I can lean on when I’m looking for inspiration; some days I write poems with titles borrowed from the works of Victoria Chang and WS Merwin (Chang borrowed Merwin titles in her collection The Trees Witness Everything). Other days I write odes – recently I wrote an ode to the ode, which was so much fun. Other days it’s nocturnes, or mushroom poems, or poems for my dog a la Mary Oliver’s dog songs. Having these recurring prompts helps to keep my river moving along.

Beyond that, nature kindles my creativity. Any time I am in the Rocky Mountains for an extended amount of time, whether it be for hiking, mushroom foraging or just aimlessly wandering among the trees, I am having a conversation with the natural world, mostly listening, learning those things that I think humans have become far too disconnected from.

Tiny Spoon: Are there any artists/ heroines/ idols/ friends that you look up to?

Brice Maiurro: At the risk of being corny, I really look up to my wife. She is a person of so much integrity. She has pushed me to be more radical and what that often looks like is to be more open with my heart, more honest, more vulnerable. I also admire that she approaches her art usually starting with the message, or the social impact she wants to have. She did a shadow puppet show guided by her belief, which I share, that we need to do more work imagining the future we want to head towards. She did a burlesque show where she wanted to demonstrate the victory of the natural world over capitalism. Her north star is clear and her conviction is unwavering.

Tiny Spoon: Do you have specific superstitions or divinatory practices that you adhere to?

Brice Maiurro: I identify as a Druid, and practice Earth-based spirituality through Druidry. Druidry has three paths: the sun path, the moon path and the earth path. The sun path has connected me with the cycles of the sun. It has helped me to be more present with the seasons and also ask what season of my own life I am in. The moon path has helped me to cultivate a strong meditative and ritual practice, wherein I can ground myself and explore my inner world. This has proven to be such a wellspring for inspiration, as my meditative work has helped me to do something that fascism hates–to imagine. Finally, the earth path has connected me with the earth. It’s a constant reminder to get off of the meditation pillow and to plant a tree, to clean up a river, to yell at your local moderate democratic senator for being complicit with killing our planet.

I also was so excited by this Issue 13 call because I have been reading tarot for over a decade now. My dear friend Kathryn got me started on this practice, and it is now a deep part of my ritual and my love language with my community. Poetry and tarot have so much overlap. Both triangulate you with an audience, with a third thing between you that forces you to answer questions like who am I? What do I need? What am I not listening to?

Tiny Spoon: We love insight into the creative process. Could you share what it is like for you, either with your work that appears in Tiny Spoon or in general?

Brice Maiurro: I think the title of my poem is fairly indicative of my process with this poem, but I’ll expand a bit. Thirteen is my lucky number, I love tarot, and I love local poetry, so I didn’t blink twice before deciding to write something for this call for submissions from Tiny Spoon. I created a ritual for myself, where I did lay down thirteen tarot cards spread out across the floor and listened to what each one had to say to me as I turned them over. I was met with reflections on the rebirth I was going through, meditations on love and being a new parent, and more mystical messages that stick with me that I don’t know that I can fully translate into prose.

Tiny Spoon: Do you have any current or future projects that you are working on that you would like to share?

Brice Maiurro: I do, I do! I’m working on two thematic projects which I’m very excited about. The first one
might prove a lifelong endeavor–I’m writing a book of poems tentatively called A Poet’s Guide to the Wild Mushrooms of the Rocky Mountains, where I’m writing poems in honor of our local fungi friends. So far I’ve written about the giant western puffballs of the plains, the Porcinis which connect me to my Italian heritage, and the shamanic qualities of the fly agaric (those red lil toadstool guys).

I’m also a very big fan of the music of Chopin – “the poet of musicians”. I’m writing a collection of nocturnes in response to his nocturnes, which has been a beautiful way to connect with the night, which proves time and time again to be a major theme of my work.

Tiny Spoon: What book, artwork, music, etc., would you recommend to others?

Brice Maiurro: If you are a fungi fan like me, I highly recommend Entangled Life as a fascinating deep dive into the world of mushrooms and other fungi.

For artwork, I highly recommend the work of Fritz Scholder. Beyond a great colorful aesthetic and something of a punk rock style, I think he does an incredible job of breaking down monoliths around portrayals of Indigenous peoples. One of my favorites features a man in ceremonial clothing holding a pink ice cream cone. A quote of his always sticks with me too. I can never seem to find the exact quote anymore, but essentially he says that he believes he is so obsessed with death because he is an optimist, which I relate to. I am a generally happy-go-lucky person, sometimes ad nauseum with my wholesomeness and dad jokes, but my art is so fascinated with death and darkness (and night). I think there’s a balance there. In short, I’m a basic bitch with a goth side.

The ecopoet in me recommends reading Rooted by Lyanda Lynn Haupt. It’s in the same vein as Braiding Sweetgrass, offering beautiful stories and reverie around the natural world. It puts me in that dreamy state I love to exist in–lost in my interconnection with the trees and the bees and the dried up rivers of the world.

Tiny Spoon: Is there anything else you would like others to know about you, your creations, or beyond?

Brice Maiurro: I run a press, South Broadway Press. We’re always putting out calls for submissions and hosting events, especially in the Denver Metro Area. You can find us on Instagram at @southbroadwaypress.

Tiny Spoon: Where can people learn more about what you do?

Brice Maiurro: You can find me on my website at http://www.maiurro.co, and on Instagram at @maiurro.

Hey everyone! I’m delighted to join Tiny Spoon, and to share some recent publications. “Against Being Stupefied” was published in Second Coming, a daily series responding to the current presidential administration. “The Target of Your Prayers” and “Why This Page is Blank” appeared in About Place Journal and “My Friend in Real Time,” a tribute to the late Karen Friedland, was published in Heartwood Literary Magazine. Many thanks, too, to Harpy Hybrid Review for including “Mob in the Mirror” and “Out of Ten Thousand Possible Bloodlines.”

Tiny Talks is an interview series with Tiny Spoon’s talented contributors. This week we spoke with David P. Miller from our thirteenth issue.

Tiny Spoon: What kindles your creativity?

David P. Miller: Oh my, writing impulses come from all over the place. Music I’m obsessed with. Memories that show up bearing wide smiles, or ones that make me put my head in my hands. Our ongoing political illnesses. Writing prompts of all sorts – though I seem to be partial to process-oriented prompts as compared with thematic ones. Poems by others that I sometimes use as templates, or sources for golden-shovel strings. It goes on!

Tiny Spoon: Are there any artists/ heroines/ idols/ friends that you look up to?

David P. Miller: I’ve been lucky to have had artist and writer friends for most all my life. I am nearing 70, so that’s a lot of folks. Before I became seriously involved in poetry, I spent much of my non-income-earning life in performing arts – theater and performance art in particular, music to some extent. My high school music teacher, John Maggs, is still a hero of mine. Two others, John Cage and John Lennon, I never met. I’ll read anything by Ada Limón, Jane Hirshfield, Tracy K. Smith. My friend Marilyn Arsem, founder of Boston’s Mobius Artists Group, is a long-time inspiration. If I name some of my admired peer poets, I’ll leave out all the others…

Tiny Spoon: Do you have specific superstitions or divinatory practices that you adhere to?

David P. Miller: Not really. My writing practice is really quite workaday.

Tiny Spoon: We love insight into the creative process. Could you share what it is like for you, either with your work that appears in Tiny Spoon or in general?

David P. Miller: “Almost Like Life and Death” got its push when I more or less randomly remembered that old kids’ chant, “Step on a crack, break your mother’s back!” What the hell were we saying? Inspiration can arise from being suddenly alienated from something I’d taken for granted. I had to work that one out. Then run a crack down the middle of the poem, so it’s divided against itself.

Tiny Spoon: Do you have any current or future projects that you are working on that you would like to share?

David P. Miller: I’m sending out a manuscript with the working title of Yes, All of Them. “Almost Like Life and Death” appears in it. It will be my third full-length book if and when someone picks it up.

Tiny Spoon: What book, artwork, music, etc., would you recommend to others?

David P. Miller: Talking Heads and XTC are my two favorite bands from the latter part of the twentieth century. In terms of more “experimental” music, Morton Feldman’s Second String Quartet, six hours long, makes for a great all-day environment.

Tiny Spoon: Is there anything else you would like others to know about you, your creations, or beyond?

David P. Miller: I’ve read poetry for my entire life, but didn’t seriously begin to write it until my mid-fifties. That has a lot of implications for how I understand “poetry career.”

Tiny Spoon: Where can people learn more about what you do?

David P. Miller: I’m only on Facebook (meaning, I still haven’t left Facebook): https://www.facebook.com/david.miller.167189.

Jaina Cipriano is a Boston-based experiential artist, filmmaker, and photographer whose immersive work explores themes of emotional transformation, religious gaslighting, and inherited fear.

This year marks an exciting chapter for Jaina Cipriano. She is releasing The Lucky Ones, an archival photo series documenting her teenage years, which will debut in a small installation at the Griffin Museum of Photography and serve as the foundation for a forthcoming photo book. In film, she is launching The Impostor Syndrome, a five-part limited series produced in collaboration with Martian Radio Theatre, while also preparing to crowdfund and direct Actualization, a short film that explores the fear of vomiting and the inheritance of fear. Her feature project, Heaven Can’t Be Better Than This, continues its evolution—now five years in the making, it investigates themes of religious gaslighting and self-possession.

This October, the Arlington International Film Festival (AIFF) returns under her leadership, featuring a large-scale immersive opening night event that will lay the foundation for a major rebrand in 2026. Cipriano is also unveiling new public art installations this year, including an interactive sculpture at the Essex Art Fair in July and a light activation in Winchester scheduled to run from late 2025 through early 2026.

Her immersive practice continues to expand with What Are You Afraid Of?, an intimate, audience-centered experience supported by a NEFA Public Art Learning Fund grant and consultation with Odyssey Works. Plans are underway to reimagine the piece as an outdoor nighttime installation later this summer.

Tiny Talks is an interview series with Tiny Spoon’s talented contributors. This week we spoke with Jaina Cipriano from our thirteenth issue.

Tiny Spoon: What kindles your creativity?

Jaina Cipriano: Reconnecting with my inner child through play, cartoons and stories I loved as a child. Being in nature when the air is warm and the sky is dark. Traveling, seeing new places. And facing my fears.

Tiny Spoon: Are there any artists/ heroines/ idols/ friends that you look up to?

Jaina Cipriano: David Lynch – his work never explains itself to me and that is so brave.
Madeleine L’Engle – her children’s books made me feel seen when it felt like adults all looked right through me.
Nan Goldin’s fearless work runs through my veins, inspiring everything I do.
Buddy Neilsen of Senses Fail – growing up alongside this band makes me feel like my dreams are possible as I’ve watched Buddy be endlessly vulnerable in his healing.

Tiny Spoon: Do you have specific superstitions or divinatory practices that you adhere to?

Jaina Cipriano: I have OCD and do my best to not adhere to any superstitions!

Tiny Spoon: We love insight into the creative process. Could you share what it is like for you, either with your work that appears in Tiny Spoon or in general?

Jaina Cipriano: My creative process is an act of excavation. The spaces I build mirror an inner state I haven’t yet fully understood. So much of my work is about reintegration: reclaiming memory, reframing trauma, and using imagery to rewrite inherited narratives. I follow my instinct, often ending up messy and exhausted but always transformed. Photography, filmmaking, and immersive installation each offer me different ways to confront what’s unresolved. I don’t want to document what is—I want to make visible what’s buried.

Tiny Spoon: Do you have any current or future projects that you are working on that you would like to share?

Jaina Cipriano: This year is an exciting year! I’m releasing The Lucky Ones, an archival photo series documenting my teenage years, which will debut at the Griffin Museum of Photography in a small installation and serve as the foundation for a forthcoming photo book. In film, I’m releasing The Impostor Syndrome, a five-part limited series produced with Martian Radio Theatre, while preparing to crowdfund and direct Actualization, a short exploring the fear of vomiting and inherited fear. My feature project, Heaven Can’t Be Better Than This, continues to evolve—five years in the making, it explores religious gaslighting and self-possession. This October, the Arlington International Film Festival (AIFF) returns with plans for a large-scale opening night immersive event, laying the groundwork for our 2026 rebrand. I’m also presenting new public installations this year, including an interactive sculpture at the Essex Art Fair in July and a light activation in Winchester running from late 2025 to early 2026. My immersive work continues to grow with What Are You Afraid Of?, supported by a NEFA Public Art Learning Fund grant and Odyssey Works consultation, which may be reimagined as an outdoor nighttime experience this summer.

Tiny Spoon: What book, artwork, music, etc., would you recommend to others?

Jaina Cipriano: Books: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle, House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski and Lisey’s Story by Stephen King.
Movies: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Coraline, Black Swan and Spirited Away.
Albums: Good News for People Who Love Bad News by Modest Mouse, Hell is in Your Head by Senses Fail and The Division Bell by Pink Floyd.

Tiny Spoon: Is there anything else you would like others to know about you, your creations, or beyond?

Jaina Cipriano: What I want people to know is that my work isn’t about escape—it’s about confrontation. The dreamlike, immersive spaces I build aren’t fantasy; they’re emotional landscapes made visible. I’m always asking: Who gave this story to me? And do I want to keep it? I also want to challenge the idea that healing has to be soft or quiet. Sometimes it’s a collapsing house, a teddy bear that talks back, a woman who refuses to be touched. Whatever shape it takes, I hope my work helps people feel braver in facing themselves. Like it does for me.

Tiny Spoon: Where can people learn more about what you do?

Jaina Cipriano: You can learn more about my personal work on my website – jainaphoto.com or my Instagram @jainastudio. You can follow my immersive design studio at findingbrightproductions.com or @letlightfindyou. And the Arlington International Film Festival is at aiffest.org and @arlingtonfilmfest.

Tiny Talks is an interview series with Tiny Spoon’s talented contributors. This week we spoke with Kale Hensley from our thirteenth issue.

Tiny Spoon: What kindles your creativity?

Kale Hensley: My creativity tends to be kindled by movement. I receive the best lines and images while I am driving, which is an inappropriate time to be writing. Luckily, voice memos have saved many lines that would have gone astray and pulling off to put twenty dollars in the tank allows me a moment to jot these ideas down. When I am not in motion, I prefer silence and the crackle of a wood wick candle. It feels remarkably ancient and salves the ear to await the muse’s instruction.

Tiny Spoon: Are there any artists/ heroines/ idols/ friends that you look up to?

Kale Hensley: I am ever inspired by the mystics; Julian of Norwich, Hadejwich, and Mecthild of Magdeburg are personal favorites. Contemporary writers who move me in all the right ways tend to be Amy Gerstler, Mary Ruefle, and Mary Karr. If I had to choose a favorite heroine, it would obviously be Judith. She’s a-head of most people.

Tiny Spoon: Do you have specific superstitions or divinatory practices that you adhere to?

Kale Hensley: I recognize and try to celebrate all religious holidays in some way. I like a healthy amount of syncretism in my day to day. I take my dreams seriously and report imaginative matters to the friends who appear in them. A candle is always lit when I write; I start my morning like my mother before me.

Tiny Spoon: We love insight into the creative process. Could you share what it is like for you, either with your work that appears in Tiny Spoon or in general?

Kale Hensley: “Braiding the Girl” was inspired by a trip to a convent in Ferdinand, IN. My wife and I stopped there to poke around on our way back to Texas. The sisters invited us to participate in vespers and gave us a tour of the facilities. Framed in their main office was a long braid of hair and a photo of the young woman who it belonged to. 

When a woman chose to enter religious life, her hair was cut and braided by family and friends. While they bound the hair strand by strand, they told fond memories or anecdotes, imbuing the hair with a domestic form of magic. I wanted to achieve this in a poem, which explains the content and form of my piece.

While section two serves as the ‘photograph,’ a superficial understanding of “a good christian girl,” the braid details the journey to garner this image, which at times, felt totally inaccurate. A good christian girl is equally capable of destruction, just like her God. This poem also serves to illustrate how God pines for us in return.

Tiny Spoon: Do you have any current or future projects that you are working on that you would like to share?

Kale Hensley: At present, I am taken by the art of collage. It is a ‘palette cleanser’ between writing projects and satisfies the associative needs of my brain. I am also at work on a collection of essays called Pew Baby detailing the supernatural perks of a pentecostal childhood. I too have a novel I am working on about a young woman on an erotic pilgrimage. We will see how that fans out.

Tiny Spoon: What book, artwork, music, etc., would you recommend to others?

Kale Hensley: If I were to recommend a book, it would be Life Ceremony by Sayaka Murata. If I were to recommend music, it would be “the walker” by Christine and the Queens.  And should I recommend art, it would be the paintings of Colete Martin.

Tiny Spoon: Is there anything else you would like others to know about you, your creations, or beyond?

Kale Hensley: I am from West Virginia. In my opinion, it is one of the most beautiful states.

Tiny Spoon: Where can people learn more about what you do?

Kale Hensley: Should you need to find me, you can do so on instagram @julianofwhorwich or @kale.age. I have a website as well: www.kalehens.com.

Tiny Spoon: Do you have photographs or images you would like us to share?

Tiny Spoon: What kindles your creativity?

What kindles your creativity? I’m a people watcher. I love observing us in all of our many forms and being curious about patterns of behavior. I think we have so much to learn from each other and simultaneously there is so much we misunderstand. I think being curious about those whys kindles my creativity. Showcasing what connects us and makes us feel less alone, through my art and self-expression I love to center this idea. 

Tiny Spoon: Are there any artists/ heroines/ idols/ friends that you look up to?

Absolutely, there are so many. One of the people I idolize is Audre Lorde. Her essay uses of the erotic: the erotic as power has had a profound impact on my work. I do a yearly reading of this essay and every year it sparks new thoughts that I explore in my writing. I also find it super inspiring that not only was she a phenomenal essayist she was also a poet, a memoirist, and in general a genre-bending writer who explored many different forms. Another poet who has had a profound impact on me is Diane di Prima. Her book “Revolutionary Letters” is a life’s work- a collection of poems that spans from nearly 40 years of reflection on a changing world. I love the idea of a poet having a life’s work and being an archivist in this way.

Tiny Spoon: Are there any natural entities that move your work?

Even though I don’t have any water placements in my birth chart, I often find myself writing by or about water. I’m extremely moved by water for its clarity, reflection, destruction, flow, pace, and shape-shifting nature. Many of my poems are written by bodies of water and I find myself getting a lot of creative energy from sitting in front of the ocean, streams, and rivers. I have one place here in the bay area where the stream turns into a river which lets out into the Pacific Ocean. I think it might be my favorite place on earth. 

Tiny Spoon: We love insight into the creative process. Could you share what it is like for you?

My creative processes are currently adapting and taking on new shapes as I am a new mom. Some of the old habits I used to have, like staying up until 3am, just don’t work the same when you have a three-year-old. I’m also a visual poet so a lot of my practice is about designing experiences around my words which has led me to create large scale conceptual book work, installations, and immersive sound experiences.  My creative process in addition to traditional writing practices is often thinking really big picture about the container for my work- if it doesn’t live on the page or the stage, in what other form can it live? I spend a lot of time in the studio tinkering with this question and experimenting with book binding, printmaking, and other tools that you might see more generally with visual artists. 

Tiny Spoon: Do you have any current or future projects that you are working on that you would like to share? 

My book, The Postcards I Never Sent is about to celebrate a year being out into the world. I’m super proud of this book, I wrote it the year I sold all my stuff and traveled full time. During that time, I was going through a lot, a separation, career change, and just observing the world sort of falling apart around me. All of the poems in the book are from a travel journal I kept along the way, thus the book itself is a poetic memoir that follows me along this transformative time in my life. Because I was going through so much at that time, I found myself in a deeply personal writing space. Now that the book is out in the world, it has been really interesting connecting with people around some of the themes of generational trauma, self-love, and personal revolutions.

Tiny Spoon: What book, artwork, music, etc., would you recommend to others?

 In the Palm of Your Hand by Steve Kowit. I always recommend this book to other poets. Its been a huge source of inspiration throughout my creative process for the past year. It has little activities, and it does kind of feel like a poetry workshop in book form. If you’re interested in leading writing workshops it’s also good for thinking about learning activities and how to expand prompts to be really solid opportunities to practice the writing skills you’re teaching. 

Tiny Spoon: Is there anything else you would like others to know about you, your creations, or beyond?

I would love for people to know that I have a podcast called Adult Happy Hour. Adult Happy Hour is a podcast which centers resources, learning, and conversation about pleasure. One thing that makes AHH special is that it was developed in community with our listeners. After hosting weekly content live on Instagram during the pandemic, participants said they wanted to hear and learn more. Thus the podcast version of AHH was born and continues to have a dedicated following that spreads mostly through word of mouth and grassroots marketing. We know that pleasure activism is a liberatory work, and we are honored to have an amazing audienceship for the work. 

Tiny Spoon: Where can people learn more about what you do? (website, social media, etc., if you wish to share it) 

The best place to keep up with me and my work is on Instagram. I treat Instagram as my live art portfolio so I’m always posting drafts or projects that are in progress. I really enjoy sharing my creative journey there. I also have a ton of resources on writing and Adult Happy Hour related topics. 

Register for Lyn’s workshop the weekend of April 26 and 27th!

We asked our Tiny Resident, Anesce Dremen some questions to learn more about her creative projects, process and love for writing and tea! Register for her workshop today: Winter 2025: Poetry Plucked from the Tea Gardens – Tiny Spoon

TS: What kindles your creativity?

Anesce: Because I write about an array of topics, creativity can arise from a variety of sources. Survival has kindled my creativity. I began writing out of necessity, during childhood, as an escape. Today, creativity is still an escape, but creativity is also a nest. I enjoy observing the so-called mundane – it isn’t so mundane for me. I believe that my creativity is inspired by dreams, rich emotions, interactions, relationships, tea, language, and cultural exchange. 

TS: Are there any artists/ heroines/ idols/ friends that you look up to?

Anesce: I’m inspired by so many. Amy Lee of Evanescence, Lzzy Hale of Halestorm, and Maria Brink of In This Moment have all inspired me for decades in their ability to craft stories through songs; I often listen to their music while writing or editing. I am inspired by the following writers: Lisa See, Amy Tan, Adeline Yen Mah, Lin Yutang, Rohinton Mistry, Sanmao, Zhai Yongming, Shobhana Kumar, Soni Somarajan, and Ishan Sadwelkar. There are many teachers, professors, and friends who inspire me daily – I keep their photos in an album by my desk, though some aren’t aware of this. 

TS: Are there any natural entities that move your work?

Anesce: Tea, dreams, nature, and birds all inspire me.  

Anesce Dremen is a nomadic U.S. writer and educator. Support her here on Ko-Fi.

TS: We would love insight into your creative process. Could you share what it is like for you?

Anesce: My ideal writing process is to wake up at around 5am and brew several gaiwan of tea while writing or editing. Depending on where I am and what project I’m working on, I may not be able to dedicate a whole morning to writing but instead scribble away sentences, or paragraphs, while standing on a subway during rush hour, from the back of a packed bus, or during the middle of a flight. I try to find moments of dedication in the transient nature of my work. 

TS: Do you have any current or future projects that you are working on that you would like to share?

Anesce: There are three major projects I’m working on: I write a lot of independent articles about tea (including a forthcoming one about sustainable tea tourism), I have several drafted essays about estrangement, and I am also working on the seventh draft of my memoir.

I’ve had two excerpts of my memoir published – one by Stillhouse Press and another by Gordon Square Review – and have several more on submission. I maintain a free monthly newsletter where subscribers are the first to know about forthcoming publications and my travel adventures; Ko-fi supporters receive even earlier insight.

Be the first to learn about Anesce Dremen’s publications, performances, & collaborations: by subscribing to her free, monthly newsletter with behind-the-scenes content.

TS: What book, artwork, music, etc., would you recommend to others?

Anesce: For those interested in reading more about tea, I would recommend “The Classic of Tea” by Lu Yu as well as the “An Illustrated Modern Reader of ‘The Classic of Tea’” by Wu Juenong, “Puer Tea: Ancient Caravans and Urban Chic” by Jinghong Zhang, and “The True History of Tea” by Erling Hoh and Victor H. Mair. I’m currently reading “The Way of Chai” by Kevin Wilson. 

Recently, I’ve been rereading “Stories of the Sahara” by Sanmao (tr. Mike Fu). There are some books that you read and they linger within you – you feel compelled to immediately reread them; I think all of the books below have invoked that sensation for me and I look forward to the opportunity to reread them. I’ve been thinking a lot about “The Memory Police” by Yoko Ogawa (tr. Stephen Snyder), “Ghost Of” by Diana Khoi Nguyen, “Mean” by Myriam Gurba, “What My Bones Know” by Alex Marzano-Lesnevich, “Fang Si-Chi’s First Love Paradise” by Lin Yi-Han (tr. Jenna Tang), and “What My Bones Know” by Stephanie Foo.  

In terms of forthcoming books, I’m super excited to read: “How to be Unmothered” by Camille U. Adams, “The Power of Parting” by Eamon Dolan, and “Broken Free” edited by Jenny Bartoy. 

TS: Is there anything else you would like others to know about you, your creations, or beyond?

Anesce: Tiny Spoon published a collaborative work of poetry and photography between Balvinder Singh and myself entitled “Aberrant Dwelling.” We met while lost in Goa, India — connecting over a book following the conclusion of lockdown in India. An initial exploration of friendship developed into brainstorming interpretations of eccentricity, vulnerability, and intensity; when comparing notes, we agreed on explorations of confronting judgment, expressing emotion, and portraying flight. Through lighting techniques, singed hair, and sustained inquiry, we explored what it meant to fly without lifting our feet from the ground. Our relationship as friends and collaborators was strengthened as we captured one another in an exchange of frame and words. 

Issue 7: Collaboration

TS: Where can people learn more about what you do?
Website: AnesceDremen.com

Instagram: @AnesceDremen https://www.instagram.com/anescedremen

BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/anescedremen.bsky.social

Postcards featuring my original photography: https://ko-fi.com/s/ada44b5103 

Tiny Talks is an interview series with Tiny Spoon’s talented contributors. This week we spoke with Anne Marie Wells, our Fall Resident.

Tiny Spoon: We love insight into the creative process. Could you share what it is like for you? Do you follow any rituals or creative exercises to spark your writing process?

Anne Marie Wells: I am much more organic in my creative process—if it flows, it flows; if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I know some people are very committed to a specific writing time or their morning pages or what have you, but I just don’t work that way and cannot work that way. Anytime I’ve tried to impose a habit or ritual, it turns creativity into a chore for me. Then when I miss a day, it sparks a sense of shame and disappointment—detrimental to creativity. Instead, I allow the muse to visit or not. I don’t grow anxious about “writer’s block”. I trust that my subconscious brain is doing the work or taking the rest it needs to prepare for my next idea.

TS: What inspired you to begin and maintain these practices?

AMW: The inspiration was simply trial and error (or trial and success!) I cannot force myself to write something when I am not ready to do so. The times I have tried to wake up an hour early to write or dedicate myself to morning pages or simply write every day, I have only ever created really sterile, uninteresting work. 

And every time I have worried I would never write another play or another poem or another blog post, that I would never have another good idea again, I have always been wrong. So, I have learned to stop worrying about it. When the next play, poem, or blog post (or whatever else) wants to be born into the world with me as its mother, it will come. It always has, and it always will.

TS: Does your writing intersect with other creative practices?

AMW: I love performing. When I write a play, I envision it as I write and even act out the scenes as I write to help me with dialogue and stage directions. When I write a poem, I often think about how it sounds out loud, how it might be performed on stage.  There’s something about that transitional line between potential energy and kinetic that gets me particularly jazzed. 

TS: If your work was a song, what would it be?

AMW: Great question. I have turned to The Avett Brothers’ “No Hard Feelings” throughout the recent years for solace and guidance and inspiration. The music and lyrics pull something out of me that I can’t quite explain. So, I hope if my work were a song, it would be that one.

TS: Are there any artists/ heroines/ idols/ friends who have been influential to your work?

AMW: Andrea Gibson is one of my poetry crushes. Even before I was a poet, I was in awe of their word play and ways of seeing the world. A true sage of our age. 

Most recently I have been greatly inspired by Ilya Kaminsky’s poetry collection, Deaf Republic and Talicha J.’s Taking Back the Body. Two completely different works by completely different poets with completely different messages, and yet, they both remain on my side table, and I keep picking them out and reading from them over and over.

TS: Are there any natural entities that move your work?

AMW: I lived in Jackson, WY and its environs on and off for ten years. The backdrop of the Teton and Gros Ventres mountains certainly impacted my work. I am actually an ecologist by education! I earned my Masters of Ecology back in 2013 and have yet to use that degree in any professional way. My degree is more a reflection of my love of flora and fauna (and rocks and clouds). Now I live just outside Shenandoah National Park, and the East Coast’s natural wonders (particularly the fall foliage) fill me and my poetry with awe.

TS: What is on your reading list this season?

AMW: Speaking of natural entities, Ada Límon’s anthology You Are Here is at the top of the list. I also have Charles C. Smith’s Searching for Eastman and Dorsey Craft’s Plunder.

TS: Can you share your philosophy on sustaining creative communities?

AMW: The most challenging part of creating a creative community is sustaining it. I have seen and experienced it myself: the one person who organizes it all burns out, and the group can’t stand on its feet without its spine. Another reason is a lack of monetary funds to host events or rent meetup venues. We have all read the news: arts funding is constantly under attack and dwindling. 

However, I do believe ephemeral experiences can be just as meaningful. I was once a part of an ad hoc playwriting group. With confidence bolstered by the group, I wrote and put on a choose-your-own-ending murder mystery play. After that, we put on one collaborative play as a team, and then never did anything again. But who cares that it didn’t last? We created art that we showcased in the community that wouldn’t have been created otherwise. And that’s still great! 

My philosophy for sustaining would be reframing one’s mindset, one’s definition of what a successful creative community looks like. Let’s not let the Western capitalist mindset of “success” or longevity deter us from even trying. We can still put forth something positive and constructive into the world even if we only meet four times and then never meet up again. I mean, that’s still four opportunities for connection, inspiration, and creation that we wouldn’t have had otherwise. The world needs much, much more beauty and connection and art right now in our world, and I think it’s sometimes easier to even try if we have the expectation of sharing a moment rather than starting a movement.

TS: What advice would you give to emerging writers?

AMW: Read, read, read, read, read. Take workshops. Join critique groups. There are plenty of free opportunities available online. The old adage “practice makes perfect” does not apply to writers. Practice without the (tactful) insights and guidance from others only makes for permanently unevolved writing.

TS: Is there anything else you would like others to know about you, your creations, or beyond?

AMW: My two published poetry collections, Survived By and Mother, (v) both center around concepts of grief, but I wouldn’t consider them “downers.” Instead, I think they are more bittersweet, the way we listen to sad songs when we’re already sad. The sad songs don’t make us feel sadder, they help us travel through our sadness like a life raft down the sadness river. Like Andrea Gibson famously wrote, “Let your heart break so your spirit doesn’t.” 

TS: What projects are you working on? Can we find you at any upcoming events, etc.?

AMW: Oo. Like so many writers, I have a gazillion ideas and half-started projects. My most enduring project is my travel memoir, Happy Iceland, about my experience hitchhiking and backpacking across Iceland in 2016 finding the places strangers’ happiest memories took place. Within the last eight years, I have hired two editors and a book coach. I won a travel memoir contest complete with a contract, then terminated that contract when the publisher only wanted to self-publish the book through Amazon. I’ve sent over two hundred agent queries. I have had chapters of this book critiqued at two writers conferences. I’ve made countless revisions, both broad-sweeping and nitty gritty.  Now I am participating in AWP’s writer-to-writer mentorship under the guidance of columnist and travel memoirist Laura Carney. I hope this latest iteration of my book is the one that finally breaks through! I hope, I hope, I hope. I believe, I believe, I believe. 

TS: Where can people learn more about what you do?

AMW: Folks can find me on most social media platforms @AnneMarieWellsWriter , on SubStack @AnneMarieWells , and/or on my website http://www.AnneMarieWellsWriter.com

Tiny Talks is an interview series with Tiny Spoon’s talented contributors. This week we spoke with Victoria Hood from our eleventh issue.

Tiny Spoon: What was your process or inspiration for engaging with the Emergence?

Victoria Hood: I’ve been continually interested in the ways our bodies continue to grow and change throughout our lifetimes. I, like many others, have struggled with body dysmorphia throughout my life; growing up, for me, was entwined in having an eating disorder, self harm, and fighting my body. Emergence, to me, is my way of coming to terms with living inside a body that supports me. This process is not linear, it is not always pleasant, but it is important. I used “The Blossoming” as a way to think about eating and growing and nourishing my body, which overlaps heavily with puberty and learning to understand our bodies early on. I hope to continuously emerge into different versions of myself as I learn to rely on and support my body.

TS: What kindles your creativity?

VH: Growing up my dad was always incredibly supportive of my writing. He never lied to me about his feelings on my writing and I know I can always rely on him to tell me what is working well or not so well in my work. As I’ve grown into writing about my family, and him specifically, he has always supported telling my truth even if it means writing about things he’s done. My siblings and sister-in-law also act as readers and inspiration. Having the continuous support of my family makes me want to write to make them proud and I’m so honored to have them by my side.

Horror movies are also such an inspiration to me. I love all forms of horror and tend towards body horror as a way to think about the kind of writing I want to do. There is something so unsettling yet comforting about viscera. 

TS: Are there any artists/ heroines/  idols/ friends that you look up to?

VH: Sabrina Orah Mark is one of my biggest inspirations. The way in which she utilizes language to shift the perspective of how sentences work is awe-inspiring; I wish I could see all portions of life through her surrealist lens. The University of Maine English Department employs such amazing and talented authors and fosters such a supportive environment. Sharing a workspace with Greg Howard, Hollie Adams, Morgan Talty, and Jennifer Moxley has been great. Both of my partners are also such creative and talented artists. My partner, Harry Betz, is a musician (famous in my heart for his old punk band Electric Puke). My partner, Z Lavway, is a poet and writer and we constantly shove work to each other as we write.

TS: Are there any natural entities that move your work?

VH: Orion’s belt, always.

TS: We love insight into the creative process. Could you share what it is like for you, either with your work that appears in Tiny Spoon or in general?

VH: My creative process is entirely run by my ADHD; which makes for a chaotic process of chaotic work! I don’t write, except for when something comes to me and when it does I will drop everything to write until it finds a natural end//stopping point. When I worked in customer service, this often meant hiding and crouching while quickly typing into my phone, but it also sometimes means spending a whole day writing a chapbook!

TS: Do you have any current or future projects that you are working on that you would like to share?

VH: I worked with Girl Noise Press for my recent book of poetry, I Am My Mother’s Disappointments, which was released on Mother’s Day 2024! I’m currently working on a collection of longings titled Destroy Me, Desecrate My Bones that explores the grief of love in different capacities. This collection is focused heavily on my experience as a queer woman and my experience in a polyamorous relationship as well as the love we have for our friends and family. “The Blossoming” is actually a part of this collection!

TS: What book, artwork, music, etc., would you recommend to others? 

VH: I always recommend Wild Milk by Sabrina Orah Mark! Recently, I’ve been obsessed with Human Sacrifices by María Fernanda Ampuero and Organ Meats by K-Ming Chang. In terms of music, I’ve been bingeing Circle Jerks and Descendents after I was able to see them earlier this year. Always a good, fast listen. 

TS: Where can people learn more about what you do? (website, social media, etc., if you wish to share it) 

VH: I’m on instragram @toriiellen and twitter @toriiellen1 (: