If you’re like me, Halloween brings up terrifying memories. Memories of your classmates running at you with bloody skeleton masks, and you crying at school while everyone had a good laugh…..oh wait that’s just me. Anyway, if spooky season is too scary for you, too, here are a few ways I enjoy the Halloween season even though I am a Halloweenie. One of the things that I love to do when all of my friends go see a scary movie is to enjoy a good psychological thriller. Old episodes of “The Twilight Zone” are not particularly scary but do get me in the Halloween spirit. You can tune in on Hulu or watch it on the Syfy channel. Another one that I enjoy is “The Heathers.” This all-time classic brings a sense of humor to the spooky plot.

If pumpkin guts freak you out, then the best way to enjoy decorating is to paint a pumpkin. You can also roast your friend’s pumpkin seeds while they spend hours carving their pumpkin. When you paint a pumpkin, it can also be kept inside. My pumpkin from last year is actually in great shape and hasn’t even started to rot. Another fun activity is to visit an apple orchard or pumpkin patch with your friends. You can enjoy some hot cider and doughnuts while avoiding the haunted hayride. I also love a good, creative, non-spooky Halloween costume. Last year, I went as Poison Ivy, the Batman character. Some other ideas could be your favorite TV character, crayons, or m&ms with your friends, or even your best friend, just to freak them out for a change. You can also play a fun video game that has monsters and ghosts but isn’t scary.

My favorite game as of now is “Undertale.” The game is all about monsters but isn’t scary at all. Another fun activity is to hop on over to your local thrift shop to scope out the sweaters. I love a cozy fall sweater and thrifted sweaters are always a go-to. You can visit a street fair or the farmer’s market to enjoy the tastes of fall in the comfort of daylight.  Any of these activities you can enjoy with friends without scaring yourself so much you stop sleeping. If you’re afraid of Halloween like me, the Spooky Season can be enjoyed…with caution.

While first apprehensive about attending the Delcamp Visiting Writers Series and Larkspur Press literary reading, my muse came to me when I heard Mary Ann Taylor-Hall speak. A woman of great diction with a peaceful tone to her soothing voice. She spoke about the founder of Larkspur Press in a way that could fully enchant you. Hall whisked the audience away with the readings of her poetry dedicated to nature. I knew the moment she spoke that I wanted to find out more.

Born in Chicago and attending Columbia University, Taylor-Hall has a natural talent for writing. She continued her career by teaching in colleges throughout the country, and even outside of it at the University of Puerto Rico. When speaking with Taylor-Hall, I asked how she created a voice that was so uniquely her own. She began to tell me a little about her life in nature. It stems from the fact that she lives on a farm, which gives her proximity to more nature. Seeing it as gaining a psychic experience, Taylor-Hall told me that she liked to walk through the woods and admire the nature. Her poetry was very telling of this hobby with beautiful descriptions of people being one with nature. Her first reading- the one about Larkspur press- began with a creek. She found a way to get the audience to imagine a creek and what was to follow.

With many pieces under her belt, Taylor-Hall chose to read some pieces from her writing, “Dividing Ridge.” Curious about her choice of readings, I asked why she chose the pieces she read. Taylor-Hall was very straightforward in her answer to why and very clear that it was simply out of courtesy to the other authors. She said she wanted to be considerate of time yet also pick pieces that had a cohesive theme. Her theme of the night was mortality, which was palpable within her one-with-nature pieces of literature. Her pieces—and the way she read them—allowed for a deep connection of the audience to the nature that surrounds us every day.

Taylor-Hall was there in order to not only celebrate her pieces of work but also to celebrate Larkspur Press. I asked her how she felt about getting recognized. Taylor-Hall was quick to say that she feels she is not as recognizable as Wendell Berry—to which she pointed the long line of people waiting to get him to sign their books—but talking to students gives her joy. She spoke to the idea that getting recognized brought her confidence and a feeling that people were paying attention. I then asked her how she first got connected with Gray Zeitz, the man that runs the work at Larkspur Press. Taylor-Hall became “aware of the literary community in Kentucky,” in the late 70s to early 80s. She found a community that lead her to Larkspur Press. She added in a comedic story about a friend of hers that also had a piece published at Larkspur Press. Taylor-Hall told me that during a flood, her friend’s piece “went down the river.” She attributed her poetry writing to the fact that “poetry was easier.” By being a part of literary groups in Kentucky, Taylor-Hall said she could be given three words and easily write a poem.

With lots of admiration for Taylor-Hall, I walked out of this reading with better knowledge about Kentucky writers that have made beautiful pieces of work and thankfully chose to share them with Transy students on a casual Wednesday evening.

When you say the word Kentucky, literary genius typically doesn’t come to mind. Things like horse racing, barbecue, and bluegrass music are more common. But Kentucky has no shortage of great writers. On the stage of Transylvania’s Carrick Theatre between Mary Ann Taylor-Hall, Bobbi Ann Mason, Wendell Berry, and Larkspur Press artist and founder Gray Zeitz, there are 337 years of experience and brilliance. It’s a privilege to be sitting in the auditorium chairs opposite them and an honor to hear them read their own works. A common thread between all of the works was nature and beauty.

Berry read from an untitled poem of his own that depicted “the river of life or death or both” which such vivid imagery that I could feel the water on my skin. I was Achilles, dipped into the river of life and death. His words made me invulnerable. I was Louise, a lonely housewife with a paintbrush in her hand in Mason’s story, and the room around me was filled with still life paintings of watermelons. When I inhaled the scent of oil paints and acrylics, I felt wild, too. Hearing about Zeitz’s work in bookbinding and letter pressing, both in his own words, was enchanting. I felt like I was l hearing a secret, something private, when I listened to the process Zeitz goes through every time he presses ink into a paper to create art. It felt like “conversing with the moon and stars” in Zeitz’s words. God was there in Taylor-Hall’s words, streaming through the stars. There was art in that auditorium, 337 years worth of art, and Berry’s poetry described accurately the experience, “There was no sentence for it.”