Open or Safe by Laura Grace
“Open or Safe” by Laura Grace When she decided to go back, it opened again. The stitches popped in response to that final thought, that, I miss her more, moment. She went to the hospital the next day. She needed to be closed before she could make that phone call and she wanted to be sewn up before she began to pack herself back in. The doctor fingered the would-be scar. “This is a strange happening,” he...
Without Turning by Sandy Gillespie
Without Turning by Sandy Gillespie She feels him curve against her back. She knows he is awake, his hand moves with purpose, traces hip, thigh. Settles. She feels his beard on her neck; she wants to roll toward him, offer breasts to hungry eyes. The weight of her beak holds her. From behind, he cannot see feathers sprouted on her brow. He breathes greedy accusations. She opens her mouth but doesn’t turn to him,...
Hungers by Catherine Moore
“Hungers” by Catherine Moore She breathes deeply; it’s one of the few intrusions her body enjoys now, and she meditates fullness. Her husband left thirty-five years ago. She has as many years without him as with, more if one counts the years before college. Which she does because life started at their first date. And if she feels utterly mournful, she pulls out the Carmen Ash and wears satin for an afternoon....
Maternity by Sue Churchill
“Maternity” by Sue Churchill My daughter has a job interview so I am bargaining with God recklessly trading away all pearls of happiness, the ones I sought so long in the dark depths, holding my breath to bursting. It’s not just one or two I concede, it’s all and any and ever. I throw in the ewes, the lambs I looked for early and late, the one I fished for in the wet darkness of the mother, its clammy form a...
Regina by Valerie Speedwell
“Regina” by Valerie Speedwell Regina is a blend of poetry and jazz, performance and lyrics, offensive, full of swagger, she found the world on fire and threw more flame on it, thick girl, addicted to jelly rolls and pies, the expanse of her spilling over chairs and benches and edges of things, fat but hungry for more because what they feeding her not filling her, dark-eyed girl, color of pitch, one tooth...
Art is my taste for freedom. I drown day and day until I pick up my paintbrush once again. So, somehow, I can tell myself that you’re not stuck in this room and that the canvas is the key.
Nina Salvadoré
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Seabed or ocean floor? What is the difference?
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WAVES ALIVE is an immersive experience held tenderly by the ebb and flow of ritual, sisterhood, creative expansion, then surfacing to share what we have uncovered about ourselves and our art.
October 11 | expansion | noon to 3pm EST
December 6-7 | oneness | noon to noon EST | dip in and out throughout this twenty-four hour wave
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Immersion Aug 29, 2025
