SwampFire

Sixteenth Retreat: 2025
Bonnie Jo Campbell’s H House, Comstock MI

Hosts Bonnie Jo Campbell and Christopher Magson (and their donkeys and chickens) made fifteen retreat participants welcome at H House over the weekend of August 8-10. This was the largest gathering of SwampFire word and visual artists yet, each of us taking risks in our art production. Each of us openly supporting fellow participants.

*^{Dawn Burns, Bonnie Jo Campbell, and Christopher Magson just outside H House}*

Like last year, Christopher took the photo of the group (see first slide to the right). He also composed the following haiku to share with everyone. Oh, how it captures the creative spirit of SwampFire. And the communal spirit.

Tree frogs hug the oaks
at night they open their throats
the swamp answers back

One of the special activities of this year’s retreat was a series of tea ceremonies, offered by Z the Goblin, a visual artist who also worked on the acrylic painting below in the gathering room of H House. What an accomplished artist and sensitive tea master.

Z the Goblin working on a large acrylic painting, done in shades of blue and purple — *^{Z the Goblin at work on the painting}*

Rachel Baker sitting on the floor, deep in thought — ^{Rachel Baker deep in thought}

*^{Bonnie Jo Campbell and Amy Wise with the chickens}*

Nina Craig working at the corner desk of the common room — *^{Nina Craig working at the desk in the common room}*

The SwampFire retreat group, thanks to Christopher Magson and his camera
Ilse Schweitzer shares her writing with Marcy Bauman
Bex Miller, Mary Catherine Harper, and Cait West at the table of eco-art supplies
Colleen Alles reads during one of the two workshop times
Curtis VanDonkelaar and Z the Goblin in separate zones of creativity . . . yet together
Robin J. Moss, Marcy Bauman, and Bex Miller share good company . . . and good food
Jenni Repka works on her fantasy novel . . . makes magic with words
Dawn Burns and Nina Craig share a smile for the camera
Robin signs her micro art pieces for Bex Miller and Michele Willman
Food, food, and more food at SwampFire . . . and plenty to drink, as Rachel Baker might say as she sips
Dawn and Jenni . . . lookin’ good
Of course there’s a selfie or two . . . Amy Wise holds the camera as Colleen and Cait gather round
Ilse reading during workshop
Robin and Z enjoy a moment together
Another good moment . . . Bonnie Jo and Dawn
And another . . . Curtis and Amy
Three of the four founding members of SwampFire . . . Dawn, Mary Catherine, Rachel

^{^{Swipe left on phone.}}

New life in a crate just outside H House . . . triptych of a mouse and its newborn baby — *^{New life in a crate just outside H House . . . photos of a mouse and its newborn baby taken by Dawn Burns}*

"Three-Element Fusion" by Mary Catherine Harper, a three-image overlay of tree, dragonfly, and moon — *^{“Three-Element Fusion” by Mary Catherine Harper}*

SwampFire bonfire — ^{photo by Eva English}

Reflections by retreat participants . . .

Thank you, SwampFire crew, for having me this year! What an inspiring location and wonderful group! I absolutely love spending time other writers ❤️
Thank you again and I wish everybody Happy Writing!
❤️ Love,
~Colleen Alles

Once again — so nice to be a part of such a supportive, perceptive, and creative group.
And, chickens!
~Curtis VanDonkelaar

“That’s the taste of SULFUR, BABY!”
~Jenni to Amy
“Hell yeah!” (IYKYK)

SwampFire is always such a restorative experience, regardless of location. I’m so proud and delighted to continue to be a part of this vibrant, nurturing community after all these years.
Thank you ❤️
~Rachel Baker, since 2008

Always a transformational experience being at SwampFire and sharing this creative time with other writers and artists. This year’s eco printing with MC was a highlight for me. I know I’m going to leave feeling challenged to keep writing in a way that digs deeper and helps me show up as myself, knowing I’m in community with amazing thinkers who have shown me so much love and welcome.
❤️ ~Cait West

This year I came to SwampFire differently . . . I was joining my friends—people I met last year, people I have known only online, people whose books I have held in my hand and whose words I have treasured.
This place is transformative.
This place is so safe and sacred.
Last year I was afraid of never being able to come back. This year I am determined to always come back.
Thank you, friends. I love you all.
~Amy Wise

This was my first SwampFire and it’s been such an amazing experience. And I wasn’t even supposed to be here! I have felt so welcomed and wanted; I am just so incredibly grateful.
I was expecting to live vicariously through Z when he told me stories afterward, but now I’ve heard so many stories and got to live them too!
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I hope this is my first of many magical SwampFires.
~Robin J. Moss
*Z’s note: Creepily, she WAS supposed to be here. She signed Amy! 😄

H House. 1 PM. Hot and Sunny — Saturday, August 10, 2025
Beautiful weather, people, and environment. It is peaceful with space to breathe, listen, and write. I love the hum of the murmuring voices in the kitchen, the sudden outburst of joyous, raucous laughter, and incredible writing and writers.
I love this retreat. First time of many, I hope.
~Nina Craig

SwampFire. Amazing as always. I love the sound of people writing. 🙂
Until next year! Time to go finish my book . . .
~Marcy Bauman

SwampFire, the retreat made up of the people who attend—bringing their struggles, joys, pain, and full selves—stand together, open each other, and spark the creativity of the muses. I heard the sounds of warrior women, goddesses, and shadow selves. The engagement with each person’s work, the sharing, discussion, and feedback, energized my core and the warrior in me. My confidence grows among these beautiful creatures. Thank you for continuing to hold this place—this gathering of goblins!
I loved TWO DAYS of sharing!
~Bex Miller, the turtlecorn

Nina Craig reminds us here at SwampFire that we are in ceremony. Thank you, fellow SwampFire folk, for sharing your words, your art, your wonderfully quirky selves . . . your richly textured lives.
And a special thank you to Bonnie Jo Campbell for sharing H House and donkeys and chickens and gunpowder tea. She and Dawn Burns make SwampFire possible. What a gift!
~Mary Catherine Harper

In the Rubble

If I had not died and been reborn between last SwampFire and this, y’all would have waited another year to meet Robin.

If I had still been stubbornly trying to do it all myself being my individual-strong-steel self, a weary, weary self—but I did.

Thank all the gods for death and rebirth
Good chaos that has razed what came before
And let new, stubborn weeds grow tall as trees.
In these days, these tired days,
I fear I cannot bring enough
of (energy, work, attention focus)
to the people I love.

This time, bringing Robin, I had no doubts.
Thank the gods for SwampFire and its entangling web of love that has caught us both up in it now.

A generous tangle, and a generative unfolding.
It cannot be encompassed
To flow from such potent
Heat into sorrow into delight
Sailing on your words and your souls

Thank all the gods for you, reading this, carrier of the flame, green and phosphorescent little lightning bug you, blinking there in the dark with us.
Maybe next time I will actually bring my paintings.
I will bring Robin, as it should be.
Love ❤️
~Z the Goblin

The first night we sat down to a shared meal where Dawn and others generously shared food as love and community. And MC said, “There is no judgment at this table.” And I sank into this time and place and community.
Here I can be a writer, can identify as a teller of stories and truths and be renewed to return to the wider world that so often asks us to conform and be silent. But knowing I can return and I can call on this group for support and no judgment will keep me writing and telling my truth.
Thank you. Thank you.
~Michele Willman

SwampFire knocked it out of the park with writing—poetry, fiction, nonfiction—art, personalized medicinal teas, personalities outrageous and mild, all working together to create joy and beauty. Thank you all for making use of this space and filling it with good energy. Your voices will live in these walls.
Love,
~Bonnie Jo Campbell

Triptych of a mouse and her newborn baby — *^{We are all animals defying the limits of definition.}*

Sometimes we must leave a story we love (or hate . . . or both . . . or more) to save ourselves, for there can be no story that is good for all times. When we believe there is, well, perhaps that’s a sign to be watchful.

We cannot turn a flexing, fluxing, flowing story (universe, country, community, self…) into a rigid, brittle weapon, for we are woven beings, our very skin the warp and woof of stars.

Look at the surface of your skin. Press your thumb against your forearm, push it upwards. Witness how your skin ripples in waves. Lift your thumb and watch as your skin relaxes back into a flat canvas—flat, but not the flattest thing there is. Examine your skin under a magnifying glass or, better yet, an electron microscope—you’ll see.

We are all made of up of ever-moving/changing/combining/recombining molecules.

We are all animals defying the limits of definition.

SwampFire, too, then is also a woven thing, a “retreat made up of the people who attend” (Bex), our “personalities outrageous and mild” (Bonnie).

SwampFire 2025 has been all the things! “Restorative” (Rachel). “Transformational” (Cait). “Magical” (Robin). “A safe and sacred space” (Amy). A place where people say, “I absolutely love spending times with other writers!” (Colleen).

At moments H House was filled with the “sound of people writing” (Marcy), and at others with the “sudden outburst of joyous, raucous laughter” (Nina). We “shared food as love and community” (Michele), and feedback with “supportive, perceptive, and creative people (Curtis). May our voices truly “live in these walls” (Bonnie).

I am beyond grateful for the flex, flux, and flow of SwampFire, for being “in ceremony” (Nina and Mary Catherine). What a gift to experience the “generous tangle, and a generative unfolding” (Z), that is the soul of SwampFire.
~Dawn Burns

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