This Girl by Ellie O’Leary
“This Girl” by Ellie O’Leary Everybody in Somerville is either Irish or Italian and we’re Irish. Everybody is Catholic except a few are Protestant and we are High Episcopal. Everybody knows we are supposed to be Catholic but I know...
Entwined Moon by Lauren Triola
“Entwined Moon” by Lauren Triola I wanted to catch the moon. Wrap it in a string, wear it around my neck. I could drag the tides as I walked, guide my way with milky white, keep it on my desk at night and watch it wax and wane all for me. But then they told me no, I couldn’t catch the moon. Impossible, they said. Ridiculous. It’s not just a light in the sky, it’s a massive body of stone. It would crush me,...
Nice Girl by Cindy Lynn Brown
“Nice Girl” by Cindy Lynn Brown Nice Girl has greasy fingers and trouble breathing. She digs a basement underneath the house. She will use it as rehearsal space. Nice Girl always rehearses before speaking, before brushing herself free from dandruff and before mixing the ingredients. Nice Girl keeps many tiny things in boxes and drawers: shiny stones, creased playing cards and salient disappointments. Her most...
Sister’s Night Walk by Abbey Chew
“Sister’s Night Walk” by Abbey Chew Her nightgown, white and long, breaks the dark like a ship’s prow, then lets the night come together again around the flitting hem. Her breath shags out — just as white, just as white as the cotton — from her mouth only to drift back, curl over her ears, and away. As she moves, her body lights up the night for brief moments that seem like praise, the air around her...
This Girl by Melissa Grossman
“This Girl” by Melissa Grossman She carried a dead coyote to class, this girl who kept to herself. Roadkill in her car, she drove to school, this girl, with thick, unkempt hair. When she told the professor of her desire to draw the dead animal, he polled the other students. The drawing class gathered in the courtyard, seated around the dead coyote, sketch pads tilted, raspy sound of charcoal on paper. This...
This month’s edition of WAVES is dedicated to our creative sisters whose spirits burn for their art while they are in the fight of their lives.
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How is artistic expansion the antidote to our worldly challenges?
Submit Your Art & Writing to WAVES
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We meet each other in waves of light, waves of vision, waves of sound–a studio beyond boundaries.
Creative sisters, shoulder to shoulder, shore to shore.
This time, there is no setting our art aside. This time, there is no setting our art asunder. This is our time.
December 6-7 | oneness | noon to noon EST | dip in and out throughout this twenty-four hour wave
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the antidote Oct 31, 2025
