Raising Wrecker by Summer Wood
Set amid the giant trees of Northern California, Raising Wrecker by 4th Gift of Freedom Winner, Summer Wood, is the story of nearly-broken boy who unexpectedly finds a family. Called “a big-hearted, big-loving, compassionate book” by Pam Houston, “a rare treat” by the Denver Post, and “an unforgettable novel” by New Mexico Magazine, Raising Wrecker charts two decades of an unconventional family,...
“Five Full Moons,” by Doris Ferleger
[excerpt] Daily I walk the woods alone, past the massive sycamore. Last night, a windstorm. Today the sycamore’s hundreds of silver limbs lie across the valley, reminding me of the tangled tresses of Queen Isis cut off to mourn the slain king, her beloved Osiris, who lay in a golden coffin hidden in the hollow of a tree trunk. A squirrel searches bewildered, for its stockpile of acorns stored inside the sycamore. It stands...
“Crossing,” by Branden Boyer-White
When Clara first saw him Virgil reminded her of a horse. He was tall, two hands above the other men in the street; he wore his working life on his body in the strength of his upright back, the stomp of his gait. Wind and sun marked the skin of his cheeks. The War was over, the Union had won and men were returning from the battlefields ready to make a life. But this man was not a soldier. He had a wagon that Clara watched him hitch to...
“Write this Down,” by Amy Silverberg
I’m on the phone with my best friend, while she dumps her boyfriend over e-mail. I am dictating what to type, and I hear the keys click in another state, me holding on the line while she breaks a heart. She lives by the beach, my friend, and at times I think I can hear the water in her voice, frothy and transcendent. I know, because I once lived there too. Time passes differently by the beach, sometimes not at all, because sun and...
“History of Glass,” by Kathleen Savino
Even the ancients knew: Glass is neither solid nor liquid, but in another state always in between. Old windows are usually thicker at the bottom, since over centuries, glass drifts as if it has known warmth. We opened the window gate and climbed out onto the fire escape because it was too warm inside. I leaned against your back, lit a cigarette, breathed until the orange point met my fingers. You told me that you first knew you were...
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?
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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
