… and Stones by Gillian Barlow
“… and Stones” by Gillian Barlow She bends over to pick up a pebble – no, not that one – her hand skips across the roundish brown pebble to the black oval one and then on beyond to where she sees below the surface, the very one she wants – the chosen one. She curls her fingers around it, lifts it from the river floor and turns it over, feels its smoothness, its coolness, its rounded edges, the way the...
Audre Lorde’s Unfinished Business: Working Through Religious Resistance to Cancer Treatment by Pamela Yetunde
“Audre Lorde’s Unfinished Business: Working Through Religious Resistance to Cancer Treatment” by Pamela Yetunde I, as a pastoral counselor and theologian, have had the privilege of reading through Black lesbian poet Audre Lorde’s journals and diaries archived at Spelman College in Atlanta, GA. Many people are acquainted with Lorde (1934-1992) through some of her more famous rally cry-quotes like, “The...
Copper by Caroline LeBlanc
“Copper” by Caroline LeBlanc A sculptor friend gave me his scraps of sheet copper although I had no immediate use for it. Still it shines, reddish, in the cellar after years of collecting cricket’s casings, after long summers of their rasping song. Even time has not dulled it, dry and wrapped tight in the dark, so no free elements oxidized it green or blue. Words can be like that, pristine as long as they are...
Contact Dance in the Mission District by Dawn Banghart
“Contact Dance in the Mission District” by Dawn Banghart She is there, sitting on the dance studio lower bleachers untying tennis shoe laces socks off, toes touching the rough paint chipped floor spandex tights snug at the knees, hugging her thick thighs a loose silk shirt swirls as she walks across the floor past us the small pod of early arrivals. She opens the windows and breeze rolls across her hand. We...
Practice by Alison Hicks
“Practice” by Alison Hicks The small precision: word matched to moment, finger placed squarely on the string, the pitch containing not only itself, but itself halved, and that halved, and again. Ratios that move the small bones of the ear translate resonance to the brain. Lives of sloppy shifts, wrong notes, mistakes in tonality. Late at night in the living room, try to make up for this. In your notebook, on...
. . .
Who do we aspire to become within this sacred creative space?
Submit Your Art & Writing to WAVES
. . . . . . . . .
August 8-9 | immersion | noon to noon EST
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. Creative sisters are invited to join us at any point and remain for any length of time during our full-circle offering.
Recent From Waves
-
The Deepest Place Jul 26, 2025
