There is space for you. That was the affirmation that came to me during my time at Baldwin for the Arts. I was reminded of why I write. I was given reassurance that rest restores and upon restoration, clarity makes itself available to you. I was able to see clearly the direction I needed to take with my work. I was able to re-imagine not only my work, but myself. The timing of my visit was pivotal and rekindled the part of my creativity that desires expression; namely, the part that urges me to speak, to write, to emote.

I’m most grateful for the genuine initiative Jacqueline and the BFTA Team has pushed forward for us. It’s a blessing to have intentional space made for you. I feel enlivened and filled with gratitude.

Many many thanks!

Voël

(pronounced Fū•elle)

The buds were blooming, the birds chirping, two dog brothers frolicking, and the sun glinting off the reservoir one magical week in April. I worked on my historical novel-in-progress and managed to finish a chapter that had long bedevilled me, while enjoying Chef Felicia’s wholesome fare. Thank you for this wonderful gift of solitude and support.

I arrived at Baldwin at a crossroad, in several ways. I knew I wanted to reset, but I also knew that I wanted to take advantage of the space that had been cultivated. With a family home, my life usually evolves in circadian fashion. While at Baldwin, it was good to disrupt that. Doing so allowed me to actualize the direction for two different projects, both inspired by James Baldwin. The first of which, a collection of essays that dissects a futile relationship with Blackness and America as well as a few other cultural interrogations. I also worked on my third poetry collection, which has forced me to stretch the most. Baldwin fostered that growth. I wrote more in one week than I had in the past several years. When I wrote, I wrote, and when I didn't, I wrote in other ways. I was still or walking, or watching the deer graze the property every evening. When the font and text returned, I returned to the page. There was no schedule for anything, a feat which required me to unlearn a deep-seeded production mentality.

What is not pictured here are the many dance breaks throughout the property, including an extended session in the yoga studio to Cleo Sol’s album “Mother.” Among the writing, much writing, there was dancing. For what is a revolution without dancing? To Jacqueline and the whole team, thank you.

Every time I enter a new space, I ask myself who am I when I’m here? Am I the subject or the object? Am I welcomed or tolerated? Architect Craig L. Wilkins, in his book The Aesthetics of Equity, calls it “spatial profiling.” Put another way, walking freely through a space does not equate to my possessing freedom. I thought a lot about this while I walked around the Baldwin house, moving from book to book, artwork to artwork. Here, I did feel free. Free to work through my thoughts, free to write difficult things, free to be angry and comforted and hungry and sated (thank you, thank you Felicia Nowling). I wrote shamelessly while I was here, and as I did, I kept wondering “why is it different here? What is this space telling me?” Only when I left Baldwin did I realize it wasn’t trying to tell me anything about myself. It was letting me be, and maybe that’s what true freedom is – motion and resistance, fused tightly like a jazz piece improvising ever faster, every challenge a discordant note that pivots you towards an exhilarating possibility. Beware, future Baldwin Fellows. Here be joy.

ຂອບ​ໃຈ (Thank You) to Jacqueline Woodson, from the bottom of my heart.

Every place I've ever spent time in exists in my mind as two separate images, like dual, side-by-side photographs in a stereoscope. The perceivable information in the images are exactly the same, but if one is a picture of a first impression, and the other a familiar setting, then the two couldn't be more different. I feel this way about cities I've lived in — places that I will have grown to know so well after years of walking along their sidewalks or sitting on their park benches, that it's almost shocking to think that they were once first impressions, strangers even. So while a week doesn't seem like a particularly long unit of time, my week at Baldwin felt so generative and stretched out, that somehow by the end, I found myself thinking about the cozy guesthouse and its magnificent grounds as a dear old friend.

I spent my week at Baldwin rewriting some poems and working on some drawings. I read books I had put off reading. I made a glorious fire every evening. I really enjoyed the solitude, even in moments when, unaccustomed to being so alone for so long, I found it a bit eerie. I also did a lot of imagining, particularly about the place — imagining what Baldwin is like in the dead of winter or in the glory of summer; imagining what it will be like once all the buildings have been converted into artist studios or cozy gathering places; imagining the rich ideas that it has hosted and will host. More than anything, though, I imagined the possibilities of a world in which more people were driven by the impetus to spread what they have, to support others in their endeavors, to hold the belief that art, generosity, and gratitude can change the world — much like Jacqueline has, and by extension, the whole Baldwin organization embodies.

When I arrived at Baldwin, I was greeted by a swarm of ladybugs. Most people recognize ladybugs as symbols of good luck, so I knew from the start that my week at Baldwin would be wonderful ... and it was. Autumn leaves blowing and rustling, birds chirping and pecking, and then silence. I took walks each day and worked out in the gym. I enjoyed delicious meals prepared by Chef Felicia. And, yes, I wrote. I accomplished my goal of revising my early chapter book and also completed edits for one editor and provided feedback on art for another. Being in this beautiful space away from life’s interruptions enabled me to focus solely on my writing -- a rare treat.

Jacqueline’s vision for Baldwin For The Arts provides a treasure and blessing for BIPOC creators, and I feel fortunate to have been graced with this experience. I’m so grateful to Jacqueline and the BFTA Board of Directors for providing this generous gift. I hope I’m fortunate enough to return again in the future.

James Baldwin was a cultural worker, and what Jacqueline Woodson has established in Baldwin for the Arts, named in his honor, is nothing short of cultural work. During my residency—where I wrestled with and thought critically about my art, felt inspired by the beautiful landscape, and rested peacefully each night with the knowledge that the next day would be fruitful—I felt safe, nurtured, and empowered to create art within a space I know was envisioned with folks like me in mind. And as the artists in the decades to come will be, I am forever grateful for the radical generosity, intentionality, and love behind what makes a place like this, a place for artists like me to dream and create freely, exist.

I feel beyond thankful and honored to have been a fellow at Baldwin for the Arts. This environment sparked my inspiration! I was able to create freely without boundaries, no interruptions. Baldwin provided me with the space to work on new concept ideas connecting poems with my paintings and sculptures to explore a more personal approach to my visual narratives. This experience was otherworldly, I feel beyond thankful to Jaqueline, who was super kind and welcomed me to this beautiful space with a tour, a delicious dinner, and made sure I had everything I needed! Such a great residency that truly gives a space for artists to grow and truly cares for them!! It was overall an amazing experience that I will forever cherish.

“Living in Brooklyn and trying to manage a full-time job and a career as a dj, leaves me very little time to focus and develop my practice as a visual artist. This Residency was introduced to me by a friend who thought I was a good fit. I'm sure they've heard me complain about not having enough time and space to develop my ideas. I was only able to stay for a week, and in that week I was able to get a month's worth of work done. Being away from all of the distractions of living in Brooklyn, as well as staying off of social media, I had no other choice but to really focus. I left feeling great about the work I was able to complete and motivated to prioritize it even further. I'm back in Brooklyn now with a wellspring of energy and motivation.”

At Baldwin for the Arts, I worked on the completion of a new record that uses a voice recollecting its dreams to activate the circuitry of a synthesizer. In my work, dream content is understood as a reflection of the world that can deform, recalibrate, and reconstitute its very structures: in this way, dreams seem to suggest the possibility of another world, of a strategic opening or crack. The physical and psychic space of Baldwin was a unique and important context for the creation of this work. In many ways, I felt that I had entered a dream, but whose? Baldwin for the Arts is a form of collective dreaming manifested in space and time. I feel so lucky to have momentarily grasped it. Centering generosity, care, and kindness, Baldwin has forever conditioned my work and myself. If dreams can offer us a glimmer of another world, Baldwin for the Arts is working immensely hard to make this world tangible.

My time at Baldwin For The Arts was a much-needed refuge, a place to shut out the world and find the language I couldn’t seem to find at home. I’d come to work on a story, expected to shut myself away and write. But upon arrival, I realized that part of the work was going to be…breathing. At Baldwin you can breathe. You can think. You can hear. You can be. And then, you can work.

Having time to focus on just writing was such a gift, and I am beyond grateful to Baldwin for the Arts. To know that I as a BIPOC writer have a space that is truly safe and nurturing, where my work matters and is valued, is incredibly affirming. The physical space is comfortable and homey and the grounds are peaceful; I felt very well cared for. Jackie and the entire team saw a need and fulfilled it and that vision will enrich the arts landscape.

I arrived at Baldwin in the middle of a snowstorm, stuck at the most difficult point in my book, hoping for a reset and some momentum. I got everything I needed: on some days it was quiet and all the comforts that make it possible to stay in your own head all day, and on others, it was conversation and cookies around a fire. I did some of my best writing here, cracking open a world I had been struggling with for months. I felt cared for and I took good care of myself.

Wow. Where do I begin. Jacqueline Woodson is a G! Triple OG to be precise…(MacArthur) Genius, Generous and Grand. A gift, a giver, a generator of inspiration and light.

Jackie created a sacred space, a tangible medicinal balm for artists, a place called Baldwin for the Arts. It is truly a place to dream!!! I spent a week out of the matrix. in nature here at BFTA walking barefoot, hugging trees, talking to Bambi n them, laying on a huge rock by the reservoir under blue skies soaking in sun rays, taking spirit walks, praying, breathing deep, unplugging and writing. Thank you Jackie, this is a magical orbit. It’s Essential. In one of my pictures you’ll see a stone water well covered in vines and topped with a budding bush full of bees, I called it the Honeycomb hideout for Hobbits. It was my favorite…so enchanting like out of a Lord of the Rings movie. I am full and expanded. And grateful 🙏🏽🌻

A place to dream, to unplug, to reconnect with nature, to write, to be still, to expand. Thank you Jacqueline. thank you thank you for your generous vision and inviting me in.

I can’t say enough about the beauty and overall restorative atmosphere at Baldwin. I am eternally grateful for the generosity of space, time, & quiet. I made it to the finish line of my novel here while also gifting myself many moments of rest. A little more than two weeks later I sold my book. I wouldn’t have made it that last step of the way without the respite of Baldwin.

Baldwin is otherworldly. There’s no other way to say it. The grounds are a portal. You feel transported to a realm where art and the self are allowed to be the priority, and you are given permission to simply exist as a way to create. James is present. Zora is present. Lorraine is present. There is a lineage, and a tradition felt, and the energy that filters through invokes a spaciousness that renews and invigorates. June Jordan once wrote that “the creative spirit is nothing less than love made manifest.” Love, she continues, nurtures, it facilitates birth, it coaxes forth a freedom of self that allows worlds of possibilities to materialize. All of that exists at Baldwin. You can truly feel the love radiating out from every crevice of Baldwin, along with the strength of the intention, the tenderness of the efforts and the determination of the vision and it provides the security and safety to trust in your own vision and efforts and intentions to figure out what you want to create, too. Being immersed in nature has a way of simplifying and clarifying things, both efficiently and gracefully. I came to Baldwin during a pivotal moment for my non-fiction book project, and will be forever grateful for the ease that Baldwin offered while I made those crucial decisions. The peace of that place allowed me to concentrate and feel embodied and self-assured in my decision-making process, and I’ll forever be grateful for the confidence and coherence granted during those crucial few days. It was such a gift to live on this land for a few weeks. Deep gratitude, always.

Baldwin for the Arts was a transformative experience. It lives in the answer to the rhetorical question Gloria Anzaldúa once posed in the seminal anthology, This Bridge Called My Back: “Who gave us permission to perform the act of writing?” It’s a question I return to often, and at Baldwin the answer was clear. Everything felt more possible; I felt more possible.

I’m forever grateful for the uninterrupted time I was afforded to sit with my creative obsessions. For the time to think, to write, to be. I’ve been working on my debut poetry manuscript for some time, knowing the stories I needed to tell required a different set of tools. At Baldwin, those tools were ignited and alive. I felt courageous enough to write the poems that haunted me and safe enough to ask the harder questions of drafts I was revising.

As I worked on a series of basketball sonnets exploring my own relationship to diaspora, language, queerness, and the colonial relationship between the U.S and Puerto Rico—I’d shoot hoops in the driveway each afternoon and somewhere in that geography, find another breakthrough (another “lane” into the work). The path toward my own eye was made clearer, more available to me, because Baldwin for the Arts intimately understands what feeds the work: it provided a stillness and sense of care that I’ve felt in very few places. To put it plainly, this space put me back in my bones.

It was truly an honor to be welcomed into this vibrant community. I’m incredibly humbled and grateful for Baldwin’s vision and Jacqueline Woodson’s deep generosity. Baldwin for the Arts is a creative harbor, a literary lighthouse, and above all, a place to dream…

I had the privilege of being welcomed to Baldwin for the Arts as its first resident in January, 2020. As a practicing poet, I had just finished a yearlong book tour for a poetry collection. At Baldwin I was offered uninterrupted time, quiet, and space to begin to think about my next collection. I needed the courage to step in a different direction and at Baldwin I began to write literature for children.

Within the first few days, I wrote more than I had in a year and I had created the beginnings of several projects I was very proud of. These stories spoke to mixed race, identity, history, and the ability to harness strength as a child of color. Each day, I read, ate, slept, and wrote. These were things I had convinced myself were luxuries but the residency had me understand that rest and my own nourishment were necessities for an artist to thrive.
Being offered these realizations was a great gift as I reflect upon the current state of our nation. Baldwin for the Arts is needed more than ever as we reckon with our country’s difficult past and present. As a writer of color, I am deeply grateful to have been offered such recognition and creative shelter.

As I walked on the residency grounds hearing leaves crack beneath my footsteps, as I touched the bark of a lone tree, or caught a reflection of myself in a barn window, I was moved by Jacqueline Woodson’s gift, Baldwin’s legacy, and I continued my walk thinking about all the artists of color who may one day walk on the same ground feeling such generous power.