a particle of truth endured in my sea of fiction somehow it called to you and you heard identification demands recognition the most fundamental of forces refuses to be denied unencumbered by fear we dance on our own frequency in a universe that knows no time *** An eternal student, Jacqueline Rivas is happily retired […]
January 21st, 2012. I remember the date because Hollie said it was her six-month birthday. Neither of us thought we would end it on snow-covered mountain passes that seemed to slope up at damn-near-90-degree angles in whiteout conditions with a severely depleted gas supply and the cold truth of the matter, that we weren’t exactly
Merrily The Mount Snow Flies Read More »
Sharon Carvell’s quest for connection through art has been a lifelong endeavor. As her experiences have multiplied, so has her knowledge, her artistic expertise, and her love for trees. She calls trees “an expression of love.” They are, indeed, ancient almost beyond belief—on this planet for 370 million years while modern humans have existed for only
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For Bazin . . . film is actually like a record of God, or of the face of God, or of the ever-changing face of God . . . it shouldn’t be based on the script. It should be based on the person or the thing. And in that sense, [Hollywood is] almost right to have
Celebrity Lies Within Read More »
You’re often beautiful but overwhelm space, showing up where you shouldn’t be: corners, cracks, dreams. You overgrow, mocking ivy. A lovely imposter trickling across the yard in need of thinning. I pull you from the beginning. Your carrot lifeline nubby and tender. It’s hard to tell your potential. Whether you would fool bugs and protect
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My father wants to drive. Maybe an old Lincoln, tool around town, Pipe clenched between gums. He wants to stop at a drive-thru, eat a burger if he has a mind to, listen to talk radio with a dog in the back seat. My father wants to accelerate, smoothly merge, blinkers blinking, elbow propped in