Flotation—The Weightlessness of Words by Viki NA
“Flotation—The Weightlessness of Words” by Viki NA We both worshipped words. The onomatopoeia, the endless parade of adjectives, the loveliness Of a rhymed couplet. We wrote poetry together, like two riders on a tandem bicycle, with Spokes for syllables, haiku for handlebars. Oftentimes in the evening, he would read to me. In my room, in his room, He’d open the pages of a book and begin. Walt Whitman, Robert...
Myeongsuk/Reverie by Judy Schavrien
“Myeongsuk/Reverie” by Judy Schavrien Myeongsuk was a well-known model in the San Francisco Bay Area. My hands, painting with pastels, imagined her in this reverie, sensual, bittersweet. ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Judy Schavrien Artist Statement: Judy Schavrien is a poet, artist, and psychotherapist. As a psychotherapist, her expertise is...
The Q | the cresting wave
Q: What is found between the swell and the giving way of the cresting wave?*Responses will be curated and may be shared with permission.Permission* Yes, I give my permission Show Full AgreementBy submitting your response, you are granting AROHO permission for possible publication – in whole or excerpts – in WAVES, which is also archived on our website and may be shared on social platforms.Name* First Last Address* State / Province /...
the antidote
. . . I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself when destroyed by living. That, I believe, is the reason for every work of art. Anaïs Nin ___________________________ Dedicated to our creative sisters whose spirits burn for their art while they are in the fight of their lives. “Cloud of...
Lotus Lessons by Deborah Dennis
“Lotus Lessons” by Deborah Dennis Mud-born enchanted lanterns anchor in weed swirl, pond stew, many-petaled skin of a thousand greens. Each day these tiny fountains unfold in shivers of unkempt beauty like diaphanous teacups twirling on mirrored saucers of reflection. Pink alabaster buoys bob and scatter, follow an inner law of rising, a silky shrug that releases yesterday, awash and floating. To this ancient...
Does the sea remember everything? I wonder.
Does she absorb everything? Does she keep it safe?
Virginia Woolf
. . .
The Q: Can you fathom the spectacle that would be created if we moved together, arms outstretched, close enough to touch?
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fathoms Feb 28, 2026 -
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