Where the Wild Words Are
Writing in nature and in community reconnects us to what is true, wild, and essential
Why are we gathering in person this August at historic Camp Wandawega for a writing intensive unlike any other?
Because there is a sacred rhythm that hums quietly when people gather in nature to create. It begins not with tools or words, but breath—the collective exhale that comes from stepping into a natural world not made by human hands. In places like an old camp nestled in the woods beside a still lake, the boundaries between art and earth begin to blur. Creativity doesn’t feel conjured; it feels remembered. And it feels bigger than us, in the sense that just as we cannot fully map the woods or the movement of a lake, we cannot wholly pin down meaning with words. Still, we try—again and again—not because we believe we’ll master it, but because the reaching itself is sacred.
In rugged natural spaces, without the familiar conveniences of daily life, we shed a layer of self-consciousness. We become more porous, more aware, more alive. With fewer mirrors and s…