Drummer: Beat of a Longing Soul by Ashley Mintz
“Drummer: Beat of a Longing Soul” by Ashley Mintz In response to The Q Creative Form: What is A Room of Your Own? ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Ashley Mintz Artist Statement: I’m a visual artist and writer currently creating in Nashville, Tennessee. I feel that my spiritual journey has been led by artistic and creative urges and my work...
At the Yoga Shanti Class for Cancer Survivors by Cheryl Buchanan
“At the Yoga Shanti Class for Cancer Survivors” by Cheryl Buchanan We stand in Mountain Pose, Tadasana, a giant step back with the right. Bend the left leg, left thigh parallel to Mother Earth. We lean, prayer-hands connected. The Sanskrit Yoga gives us “yoke,” of the self and the divine. We look like any class, but for the socks and headwraps, We need to minimize exposure among the diagnosed and staged. Feel...
Crone Hands by Molly Howes
“Crone Hands” by Molly Howes Her large hands bear bony knuckles and uneven, cracked fingernails. An array of rounded patches holds the history of warts. Thin scars line her fingers, the result of working with too much speed and not enough caution. Her hands are functional, not things of beauty. When she was a child, their unloveliness stood out more. By her teens, her hands resembled an ancient witch’s: worn...
The Pink Hairbrush by S.J. Eaves
“The Pink Hairbrush” by S.J. Eaves Wear your hair long and straight and hanging to your waist. Brush your hair one hundred times a night with the pink hairbrush until it glistens like silken dark thread. Let lovers tangle fingers in your hair, whispering words of appreciation, some of them lies. Set your pink hairbrush on your dresser beside your cinnamon scented perfume. Now that your daughter is small,...
My Skin Is Not Enough to Keep Me Warm by Beverly Lafontaine
“My Skin Is Not Enough to Keep Me Warm” by Beverly Lafontaine The sky is thick and heavy with clouds. A neighbor’s dog barks. A yelp from a cartoon., Behind closed eyes I see his body shudder with every bark, A car roars its presence, eager not to be ignored. Never complete silence. In this building, something always whirs, simpers. Walls moan against the weight they’ve borne for years. Water’s ceaseless...
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
