Katherine Tzu-Lan Mann – August 2021

After a profoundly difficult last year and a half – struggling through life and loss in the pandemic, and the difficulty of balancing my studio work with the reality of parenting small children during Zoom school, Good Hart was the balm I, and my family, needed. I’m amazed and grateful to experience each day how shot through with love, thought and generosity this residency is.

I feel privileged to know this place, to have seen these sunsets and jumped in this lake every day and I’m excited to see how the textures of the stones on the beach have crept into my paintings. I hope they will never leave. I will carry this experience, and this place, with me always, and so will my family.

Carla Diana – June 2021

It is with the absurdity of human hubris that I believe that the universe scheduled these two weeks to happen at the precise moment when it would be most needed, yet that is precisely how it feels. On the heels of two of the biggest, most psychologically demanding products of my career and smack in the midst of the most profound loss of my personal life, I found Good Hart a place to look inwards and outwards, a reminder of the vast openness before me, and a turning point for the start of the next chapter.

Steph Sorenson – March 2021

Good Hart, March

Every stone is beautiful in the golden hour

eyes peeled hands in pockets mouth masked 

it’s gusty and the waves are filled to their crests with light

roaring louder than beneath our dripping overpass

the ice lies in striated floes tips out 

over the incoming tide in shelves and humps 

larger swells frothing over rounded holes

no piece of shore without a border wall of ice nowhere for the current 

to drag foaming fingertips

shoreline long as the orange-coned idle of cars coiling slow 

toward the first round of shots or the second pulled north like us like the moon

pulls the undertow beneath the darkness of the water’s skirts pushes 

the lake back onto its rocky shore cold wind whipping 

under shadow of dunes blown stories-high fenced by leaning pines 

clumped around sprawling empty summer homes and private property signs beach screaming 

yes screaming that it is here whether its owners are or not whether it is owned or not whether 

it is sunset or not but it is and everything has gone pink

slight upshore slope bearded with scrubs roots dried grass yellow and tan sand too cold to touch stones bigger stones snowbank slush mounds piled high like melting boundaries plowed outside some elsewhere shut-down mall waves cresting overtop sometimes or lapping underneath at stalactite icicles growing splitting growing from cantilevered peaks churning grey water rounded chunks floating and bashing together miniature glaciers the crack! of an ice spine collapsing small boulders filled with holes waves ceaselessly charging count them one two three four nine twenty-seven Lake Michigan the meniscus horizon haze scattered cirrus the sun—

Scott Dorsch – February/March 2021

I hit my writing goal, I skied, I ate bumpy cake, devoured Tom’s Mom’s Cookies, found signs of whitetail deer, porcupine, opossum, fisher, coyotes, bobcat, 5x woodpecker, bald eagles (They’re here!), a bunch of passerines and countless sunsets that would make Floridians cry. This place is a “layer of heaven”, and I am so glad I got to experience it for a little while. 

Monica Rico – January 2021

The days I went for a walk were my most creative. There is something invigorating about the outdoors, especially looking at Lake Michigan. Even today, in the cold snow, I found myself staring at the Lake through what felt like small hail – for fun!

What I appreciate most about my time here, was the ability to slow down. Thank you for this space, the uninterrupted time to explore my work, and challenge myself. I am forever grateful.

Samuel James Stover – October/November 2020

When I arrived in Good Hart, the leaves were all yellow and marigold, crimson and ochre. In the time I’ve been here, the leaves have fallen, but somehow Good Hart remains just as beautiful in its winter hues.

Perhaps one of the most difficult things about writing – and I’m sure about any art form – is that so much of the labor of it is conducted alone, often with little encouragement, nor any promise of success. Your willingness to invest in my novel, to grant the time and the space necessary to write it is the truest form of encouragement anyone can offer.’

Zora O’Neill – February 2020

Thank you 

  • Cozy house with high ceilings and grand windows that gave me room to expand…
  • Cozy bed in which I dreamed I was flying over Northern Michigan, all black trees below. 
  • Real cooks kitchen, with a sharp knife and everything else at hand. 
  • Freezer of endless bounty 
  • Artists who have been here before me, for all the work on the walls that made me see the landscape in new ways. 
  • The lake, a body of wonder! It helped me get in the head of a character seeing the sea for the first time.