The other day I stumbled onto an old Google Talk conversation with a friend, from about a year ago. The conversation went something like this: Friend: I lurked at the Tweetspeak Twitter party last night. Me: I can’t do the Tweetspeak. Too confusing. Friend: I was lost. I’m too literal. Me: L.L. tagged me on […]
September: Tea for Two (on Proper Sweet Tea)
Some define the boundaries of the American south by way of the Mason Dixon line. Others define its lines by allegiances during the War of Northern Aggression. Frankly, I find both such delineations to be crude and lacking in nuance. No, I do not ascribe to traditional notions of defining the South. Instead, I reckon its […]
This Week’s Top 10 Poetic Picks
The best in poetry (and poetic things), this week with Seth Haines. 1 Art Brian Hirschy is a good friend and a grand photographer. Last weekend we were discussing the state of photography and how the iPhone has become a useful tool in the photographer’s gear bag. With its high resolution capabilities and the development of […]
Ordinary Genius: Book Club Announcement
You could say I’m playing around with writing a sonnet today, as long as your definition of “playing around” is broad enough to include tapping aimlessly on my desk to The Guess Who’s Bus Rider. Our Canadian columnist Matthew Kreider loaned me one of his famous Ticonderoga pencils this weekend. It keeps a terrific desktop 70s beat, […]
September: Tea for Two (the diary of a coffee quitter)
I am a helpless, habitual coffee drinker. For the most part, I don’t drink yuppie, frothy coffee. No, I drink the black stuff, the kind that tastes like ash. I drink it like it’s a badge of American masculinity, I guess. My grandpa used to say, “real men take their coffee the way God intended […]
August Rain: The Decisive Moment
As a boy, I lived a spell in East Texas. Somewhere on the edge of the urban sprawl, my sister and I ran barefooted down dirt roads, sat under the shade of mesquite groves, and tromped through fields of briars to the neighbor-lady’s house with all the aquariums. We were home on the range and […]
August Rain: Introduction (and a bit of spiny poetry)
The heartland is ablaze. The five-o’clock news anchor tells us that Tower Mountain was kissed by lightning, that it went up like a harvest bonfire before emergency crews responded. “There have been more than 1, 000 wildfires in Arkansas this year, ” he says, “mostly in rural portions of the state.” He makes some awkward […]
The Anthologist: Conversation in a Laundromat
I moved upstairs to the kitchen to work. I don’t like the kitchen much. It reminds me of all the times I have to cook, and cooking is not something I enjoy. Sometimes when I cook, there’s a fire, and I’m not sure the fire extinguisher was recharged after the last one. It wasn’t my […]
July Mosaics: Juxtaposition
Years ago, I had the privilege of rubbing eyeballs with royalty. Flanked by an impressive retinue of distinguished figure heads, the fair-skinned and curly-haired king stood before a hushed audience at my university and delivered a cultural manifesto on the artist’s role in creating the juxtaposition of political and religious imagery to benefit and protect society.
But I was more interested in his shoes.
July Mosaics: Community
A few days after we announced our July Mosaics project, someone left us a tiny confession in the comment box. “When this idea was first posted, wrote Rosanne Osborne, “I admit I was dubious, but it’s been amazing to me how generative the experience has been.”
This Week’s Top 10 Poetic Picks
The best in poetry (and poetic things), this week with Matthew Kreider.
Image-ine: Walking Rain
Walking Rain It has no legs but the rain is walking the space the White Cloud travels. Earth’s bronzed hard hand welcomes Neomonni’s turned-down lip. Where parched mountain mouths grow stiff with waiting, thirsty bones wrinkle, rattling the distant hills’ enchantment beyond the Trail of Tears. “Walking Rain”, watermedia on paper by Randall David […]
June Jazz: Dance
Jazz is what happens to all of us — when somebody jumps out of her box.
June Jazz: ‘Sweet Jazz O’ Mine’
Jazz great Art Blakey #once said, “Music washes away the dust of every day life.” With a pair of drumsticks, he did just that, uncovering a new style of bebop drumming. He gave music a new shine.
Poetry scrubs us down with a back-and-forth hygiene, too.
The Artist’s Way: Morning Pages
At the root of a successful recovery is the commitment to puncture our denial, to stop saying, “It’s okay” when in fact it’s something else. The morning pages press us to answer what else.
June Jazz: Improv
Light pours through the west end and floods the wooden floors of our home. James is in the front room, dancing. His clunky, horse-like heels stomp to a syncopated rhythm, following the dizzy-eyed direction of his four-year-old vision, rather than my music.
May Play: Stretching
Sometimes we start poetry with a history of strains and tight muscles. For many of us, this month’s May Play felt like therapy, a chance to purge ourselves of some lactic acid and develop more elasticity.
May Play: Conversations
Leah wasn’t quite ready to play. Sharing her poetry still felt like a risk.
A few months ago she discovered Every Day Poems and began clicking around. She spent $2.99 on our poetry daily subscription. She found intriguing writing prompts and colorful features. Most importantly, she encountered conversations.
May Play: Spontaneity
The elementary school and playground which captivated my attention as a child was torn down many years ago. A bench surrounded by flowers is all that remains.
May Play: Sharing
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