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Bio- Umpteenth Iteration

 

Candace Curran grew up as part of an old New England farm family, in the shadow of Wachusett Mountain in rural Princeton, Massachusetts. She is a founder and organizer of collaborative word and image multimedia exhibitions including INTERFACE, and most recently, Exploded View. She was twice named western Massachusetts Poet’s Seat Laureate and has judged for that competition, as well as for the Massachusetts Book Awards and for Poetry Out Loud. Candace is the winner of the 2022 Elyse Wolf Prize Slate Roof Press Annual Chapbook Contest. Curran’s publications include, Bone Cages, an anthology with Doug Anderson, John Hodgen, and others, and Playing in Wrecks, Haley’s Press and journals; Raw NerVZ, Meat For Tea, Compass Roads and Silkworm. She engineers word and image on the Buckland side of the Iron Bridge in Shelburne Falls, Massachusetts in the heart of beautiful Western Mass.

A Bridge (not) Too Far...

Bardwell's Ferry Bridge

 

April 12th Poetry Reading at Wheeler Memorial Library

From the Athol Daily News, April 1, 2011

Greenfield Recorder Article 2/19/2011

Context

I think of my poems as small paintings. They are short films, dramatic scenarios, concentrated orange juice. Some are understood by the lost or out of touch feelings they elicit or reestablish. Many I find, speak for those with experience but without the voice and means for expression. I’ve been gifted or cursed with a keen empathy. I know poetry is doing its thing when a poem has been successfully cryptic yet at the same time collectively conscious.

I was born into an old New England family and have lived my whole life in small towns in rural Massachusetts. I’ve always had a vigilant respect for the farm, for nature, the Quabbin Reservoir in my backyard and in the nature of human relationships. The poems speak of all these landscapes and geographies.

I like the word situational. Many of the poems are innocent and suggest memoir, some speak of hardship and abuse perhaps with dark whimsy but not pity, not journaling, more of an awareness of being. Shadow girl, mooncalf, finds herself, not whole necessarily but imperfectly, acceptably fine. Some may have hints of autobiography but mostly reflect the universal "I" that we all look for in poetry. It's not about me, it's about you, or more likely, us.