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An Essay by David Blackmore Am I the only one who still views seventh grade as the nadir of his existence, all these years later? My version of seventh-grade hell is the garden variety experienced by small-town boys whose peers don’t think they live up to the local...
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An Essay by Cassie Tatum I never considered much of my hands, any hands, until I started painting them. Historically, the hand has been one of the most difficult body parts to reproduce in oil painting. French Impressionist, Edgar Degas, famously avoided painting...
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An Essay by Peter Vogt Robin Wall Kimmerer, in her paradigm shifting book, Braiding Sweetgrass, mentions that plants- flora- have been evolving on earth far longer than the mammal lineage that bore homo sapiens. She thinks the plant world’s miraculous adaptations...
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A Poem by Will Falk Another summer hits the suburbs. It’s so hot that only machines make ice or breezes. Dazed dogs lick blistered paws, whine in the shade. They are forced to claim their lazy namesake. I hide with the dogs and watch hallucinations rise from the haze...
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A Poem by Will Falk I did not know who to beuntil I took the weightof a place on my shoulders.I wasn’t a camel,but I bowed down to takemountains upon mountains,eagles, eggs, and nests,streams, cutthroat trout,sagebrush and sage grouse,jack rabbits, rattle snakes,and...
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An Essay by Sarah Harley Night falls fast; Today is in the past. – Edna St. Vincent Millay I attached him to the weather, although at the time, I didn’t know that was happening. I loved him so deeply that he became intertwined with everything else I loved. I attached...
