The Cage Is Open by Margaret Chula
“The Cage Is Open” by Margaret Chula and Billy and Cooey are flying around the upstairs room in our Kyoto house—parakeets entrusted to us by an English couple leaving Japan. The birds are lovers and we awaken to their crooning in the small tatami room. Lovers, too, we lie beneath layers of futon, snow dusting the roof tiles. Parakeets are birds meant for sunshine and palm trees where all day they dart in and...
Aura by Ginny Rachel
“Aura” by Ginny Rachel I was perhaps four when I first saw the colors and stood in the gigantic spiral- shaped sprawling church lost someplace deep in my past. A haloed glow hovered around plain-robed priests. I asked and was told, “We don’t discuss the lights.” These men glowed white from no source, and were shadowless. The wide-open space was dim,...
Reception by Meghan Giles
“Reception” by Meghan Giles Liquored, you drive us while the other couples are honeymooned in their hotels. That rose bouquet I caught, dying, already, and we pass the spot where you pulled over and hit me, hit me next to wildflowers and tar. How my tin can bruise has bloomed like bluebonnets outgrown of soil skin, a handful of bluebonnets, a yellow yarrow, two prairie larkspurs, pressed between tissue, a...
Asian Woman by Tanya Ko Hong
“Asian Woman” by Tanya Ko Hong “Isn’t it about time Chosǒn (Korean) women lived like humans?” – Na Hye-sok This is what you do with your life: Take what your father gives you food, care, shelter Learn to be a wife cook, sew, maintain your household Obey orders, serve your family, command servants This is what you do with your life: Take what your husband gives you food, care,...
The Bronx: A Love Story by Melissa Coss Aquino
“The Bronx: A Love Story” by Melissa Coss Aquino (excerpt from a memoir) The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in seeing with new eyes – Marcel Proust Whilst the media are saturated with stories of victims, unhappy families, disasters, the family records we keep for ourselves seem to be decidedly lacking anything more than celebrations. Why is this so? Jo...
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?
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
Recent From Waves
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seabed or ocean floor Sep 26, 2025
