Government Controlled, Love, Marriage, Body by Karen Henninger
Jul23

Government Controlled, Love, Marriage, Body by Karen Henninger

  “Government Controlled, Love, Marriage, Body” by Karen Henninger     What does my writing/art mean to me? Art, no matter the form it takes, is a way of life. It is a level of proficiency that result frim refined practice. It is my freedom and peace. It is the place I can be when the social pressures are monsterous. It is a path out of an enslaved existence.   ____________________ Share your response...

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Calling by Laura Rockhold
Jul23

Calling by Laura Rockhold

  “Calling” by Laura Rockhold   the white pine easel set to my child-sized height the paper’s grain, rough edges fastened by wood clothespins a well-worn pearl snap work shirt draped on backwards as a smock sleeves rolled thick at the wrist the smooth tip of the paintbrush belonging, becoming in my hand every stroke a fingerprint the gentle morning sun radiant and still within me   ____________________ Share...

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They Said It’s Terminal by Rosalind K. Bard
Jun30

They Said It’s Terminal by Rosalind K. Bard

  “They Said It’s Terminal” by Rosalind K. Bard   Are there people out there writing about death About their own death, not just abstraction? I want to know what they are saying. Are they silent, numb, torn to nightmares Or do they laugh and open their mouths in big ohs? I don’t know how to do this. Talk. To me. Now. Before the silence. Can we talk please? The sound of your voice is the only thing The only...

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I Am the Petals by Christine Redman-Waldeyer
Jun30

I Am the Petals by Christine Redman-Waldeyer

  “I Am the Petals” by Christine Redman-Waldeyer   I’m not the mechanic, the machinist like my maternal grandfather, nor the carpenter like my father and his father. No, I am a girl first in pigtails, then two long brown braids, a silhouette of everything dark in our ancestry. I am the poet. I am the birds I feed, the time I squander thinking of all the things we shouldn’t be, then all the things we could be. I...

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Her Garden by Christine Sloan Stoddard
Jun30

Her Garden by Christine Sloan Stoddard

  “Her Garden” by Christine Sloan Stoddard     In response to The Q Creative Form: What is A Room of Your Own?   ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here   Christine Sloan-Stoddard Artist Statement:  I am a Salvadoran-American writer and interdisciplinary artist who was born and raised in Virginia. Currently, I live in New York City, where I earned my MFA at The City...

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Drummer: Beat of a Longing Soul by Ashley Mintz
Jun30

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...

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Illusion by Christina Dudley
May26

Illusion by Christina Dudley

  “Illusion” by Christina Dudley     In response to The Q Creative Form: Where I am From   ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here

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Inner Beauty of the Common Dandelion by Gretchen Schneider
May26

Inner Beauty of the Common Dandelion by Gretchen Schneider

  “Inner Beauty of the Common Dandelion” by Gretchen Schneider     In response to The Q: What is a Room of Your Own?   ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here   Gretchen Schneider Artist Statement:  A descendant of miners who participated in the California Gold Rush, I inherited the feeling that life is a pioneering effort requiring courage, relentless pursuit,...

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Beehive by Erin Rizzato-Devlin
May26

Beehive by Erin Rizzato-Devlin

  “Beehive” by Erin Rizzato-Devlin   The day is a small creature gilded with a thin leaf of blind adulation, to be unwrapped and undressed, as to lay a hand on its back to find the spine of gold that covers its false immunity, the meridian beam of an illusion. It brushes the morning with a light breath of aromatic insistence, promising with a pale blue eye a new beginning before it turns the corner to the...

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decalcomania by Shriya Ravi
May26

decalcomania by Shriya Ravi

  “decalcomania” by Shriya Ravi   even as the sun rises and you are no longer in shadows, she finds it hard to be afraid. there’s not much in the way of stealth, but when has she ever had use of it? nightfall does not hide the way she burns like a beacon; it does nothing to conceal the constitution of her bones. you are always chasing after her, this corporeal pipe dream. she is gentle in your arms and she is...

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Self-Obituary: Prose Poem by Lopa Banerjee
Apr29

Self-Obituary: Prose Poem by Lopa Banerjee

  “Self-Obituary: Prose Poem” by Lopa Banerjee   One day, a caged bird who could not be tamed will fly away, far away from this human territory of measured movements, usual chitchats, regulated habits and practiced, recycled codes. A bird who was a human by sheer accident, with a faulty topography of a mind that fed on nostalgia gold, on ungoverned desire and dreamt of sunken continents where the movement of air...

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The Year the Sky Turned Orange by Valerie Speedwell
Apr29

The Year the Sky Turned Orange by Valerie Speedwell

  “The Year the Sky Turned Orange” by Valerie Speedwell   it was the year the sky turned orange the Great Die Off, 12 billion trees ablaze the year            rivers and lakes dried up and catastrophe wasn’t big enough a word to describe what was happening when the freshly dead piled up faster than could be buried or burned and the word rapture had no joy in it, only pestilence it was the year of vanished streets...

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Model for a Gazebo from “The Timing of Birds” by Eleftheria Lialios
Apr29

Model for a Gazebo from “The Timing of Birds” by Eleftheria Lialios

  “Model for a Gazebo from ‘The Timing of Birds'” by Eleftheria Lialios     Art has the power to contribute to our overall well being. It can inform and guide everything in our life. In the visual arts, it makes connections through our visual cortex, bringing up past associative memories stored in our brain. It can help direct the future, or simply point to life forms living with us, reminding us of...

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Thunderstorms Quench My Thirst by Melanie Kirby
Mar31

Thunderstorms Quench My Thirst by Melanie Kirby

  “Thunderstorms Quench My Thirst” Seed Vessel by Melanie Kirby     This particular piece of my work is about protecting seeds. It is a seed saving vessel that, with sunlight and water, will burst forth with new life. It is a clay womb that is incubating and preserving seed stories that can be shared and passed onto the next generation. As a creative woman, I define my creative identity in the following way:...

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Woman Who Glows in the Dark by Elizabeth Gade
Mar31

Woman Who Glows in the Dark by Elizabeth Gade

  “Woman Who Glows in the Dark” by Elizabeth Gade   I want the power to face beauty and not look away   I want to say yes and believe I deserve it   trauma says stay small turn away isolate you don’t belong   every day is a decision to face it and not drown in the fear   to come out the mud   bloom where I stand today   a woman who glows in the dark ____________________ Share your...

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It Stays in Our Body by Mehreen Hashmi
Feb24

It Stays in Our Body by Mehreen Hashmi

  “It Stays in Our Body” by Mehreen Hashmi       What does my writing/art mean to me? Being a survivor of several assaults including rape, molestation and sexual assaults, I have been living with developmental trauma and my work is a narration of my emotional state of several time periods while attempting to process and heal. It depicts social stigmas towards victims and its aftermath on their lives. My...

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The Light Keeper by Ksenia Lisna
Feb24

The Light Keeper by Ksenia Lisna

  “The Light Keeper” by Ksenia Lisna Берегиня Світла     Ukraine is not a dream. Ukraine is my home. Україна, це ні сон, ні мрія. Україна, це моя Батьківщина.   What does my art mean to me: Coming as I do from a port city and shipbuilding centre in the southern region of Ukraine, the ethos of sea, sky, and steppe are never far away. Mykolayiv is situated on the river Buh, which flows into The Black Sea....

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Earth’s Lullaby, or To the Child Now Grown by Kathleen McCoy
Feb24

Earth’s Lullaby, or To the Child Now Grown by Kathleen McCoy

  “Earth’s Lullaby, or To the Child Now Grown” by Kathleen McCoy   Before the wooly mammoth pounded here, before the wings of pterosaurs cleaved this brittle sky and pieces shattered, when                                glacier-fed streams greened the earth and bobbins of purple and gold bejeweled the grass, I saw you. I dreamed you, you danced behind your daddy’s eyes,                                 and...

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of being by Mary Silwance
Jul01

of being by Mary Silwance

  “of being” by Mary Silwance   I love the way she kettles overhead scenting and seeing what is there but keens and dives only for what is hers— She will not rise glorious like a phoenix with mythic feathers to preen. No. She will thrust instead into death. Feast on disease. Savor clots of rot. Slurp decay. Make communion               from wreckage. For this is what a wake is: meticulous release from malady    ...

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Survivor by Judith Robinson
Jul01

Survivor by Judith Robinson

  “Survivor” by Judith Robinson     What does my writing/art mean to me? The act of creating art takes me deep inside myself while at the same time takes me away from my ordinary or everyday preoccupations. So I both shed myself and receive myself, and occupy a blessed place.   ____________________   Judith Robinson’s Artist Statement: Judith R. Robinson is a visual artist, editor, teacher,...

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