On the Edge by Trudy Hale
When have you been convinced to change your mind? How did it happen? By negotiation? By beauty? By lament? By shock or threat? By what? The question and poem prompt by the Irish poet Padraig O Tuama from Poetry Unbound intrigued me. But nothing came to mind. Certainly not any dramatic on-the-road-to-Damascus, ‘see the light,’ kind of thinking. Until last night. But first let me set the stage. Nov. 6 I was in Memphis with my daughter to attend my godson’s wedding and visit old friends. Outside the Peabody Hotel the sky was overcast, low … Continue reading On the Edge by Trudy Hale
William Crawford’s New Photography
My photography employs minimalist classical shooting techniques which offer a throwback alternative to computer driven modern photography. This approach carries the label Forensic Foraging in a nod to the plodding techniques of early crime scene pictorial work. Forensic Foraging is not in direct competition with any other shooting approach. It is only a carefully considered recognition that the basic techniques which made photography great in the first place can still have considerable relevance in today’s digital world. I seek to lift everyday subjects up into pleasing eye candy by recording them in a visual … Continue reading William Crawford’s New Photography
First Car Accident by Alisha Goldblatt
Tucked in her shell of gutsy metal, an errant art teacher spun my car into a snow bank. We shook after the collision, the grab handle, Jesus, pried loose, sun visor dangling like a hangnail from the inside roof. The glovebox archives our road lives, talismen from preschool classes, cassette tapes and their magnetic cellophanes spooling loose, expired disability placards lodged behind the tissue packets. The passenger side door was crinkled, discarded- candy-wrapper-style, and the back of my head felt like mayhem and grind. She didn’t see me turning right, despite my right of way, … Continue reading First Car Accident by Alisha Goldblatt
Shoe Story by J. Tara Scott
I LOVE shoes. I have loved shoes for as long as I can remember, but it wasn’t until I became an adult that I had the disposable income to explore what that really meant. Growing up as the daughter of a pastor at a small midwestern church, there wasn’t a lot of money for anything that wasn’t a necessity. Expensive, sparkly shoes did not fit the criteria. I’ll be honest, my favorite shoes these days are my Converse . . . solid, comfortable, and easy to wear. My six-year-old daughter shares my love for them, … Continue reading Shoe Story by J. Tara Scott
Jack Gilbert Keeps Lilacs Alive in his Head by Deborah Doolittle
The lilacs hid the remains of a porch it used to screen. The hints of joints and steps leading up and between. Stone remnants of a foundation, a house that used to be stolid and presentable to the world. Flush with flowers, the branches bending low, bowing under their weight, I waited, too, shifting my own meager childish weight, from one foot to the other, sifting through those parts of me solid and true, walled in by my imagination, as white-washed walls rose back into view. The air heavy with its perfume. My head … Continue reading Jack Gilbert Keeps Lilacs Alive in his Head by Deborah Doolittle
Scumbling by Thomas Mampalam
Beginning a painting was the hardest part. Each time, there was an anxious confrontation with the blank white canvas as he stood before the easel. The image was unstable and there were so many choices: who or what entered and who or what remained excluded. Gradually, out of uncertain mist, the charcoal drawing diverged forms from background with broken lines, cross hatchings, and shadings. With an eraser, chiaroscuro images were recovered from darkness. But the pattern was still tentative and required layers of color to establish meaning which was not yet knowable. On the … Continue reading Scumbling by Thomas Mampalam
The Art Of Unconventional Wit — With An AI Assist by Erika Raskin
Photo by Yucel Moran on Unsplash . My website recently asked if I’d like some assistance composing a blog post. As I’m hopelessly behind in the book marketing department for Allegiance (promoting myself ranks right up there with a colonoscopy prep), I think: God, yes! I’ll take any help I can get! AI generously provided a menu of topics to choose from (crafting quirky characters, laughter as a writing tool, secrets revealed.) I clicked on humor as a theme. Before getting started though, I found myself glancing around for Mrs. Goode—my 4th grade teacher. … Continue reading The Art Of Unconventional Wit — With An AI Assist by Erika Raskin
When the Spring Winds are Strong, Wolf Spiders Balloon by Gary Grossman
They’re up on the branch tips, all eight legs en pointe— one hundred and four chitinous arachnids, their tutus matching leafless twigs. These spiders parse every gust, like surfers scoping wind and swell; desirous wind, wind strong and constant, like the hot custard disc of June. When it blows faithful, they hoist their buttocks, as if spiders actually had buttocks, shooting life-lines of silk into wind—wind, now a sculptor’s hands, patting and twirling the silklines into a sail, or is it a parachute; aeronauts lifting into the air as if west was the only … Continue reading When the Spring Winds are Strong, Wolf Spiders Balloon by Gary Grossman
The Earth is Round by Karen Dolan
Karen Dolan has earned an Honorable Mention in Streetlight’s 2024 Essay/Memoir Contest I had seen the penis on the ultrasound, I knew I was having a boy. What I didn’t know was that I was wrong. “Stop it with all the questions!” the midwife barks in response to my questions about a possible epidural. “This isn’t a think tank.” This is a dig at me and my employment at–indeed–a Washington, DC think tank. I feel like I’m in a medieval torture chamber and my captor is commanding me to shut up, lay back, and … Continue reading The Earth is Round by Karen Dolan
Fast Art by Kate Bennis
As writers, artists, creators, we can sometimes lose sight of our purpose in the struggle to generate our work. Our culture, certainly, adds to the belief that art is not valuable—we are rarely rewarded financially or honored socially. And the existential threat of AI seems to mock us saying that the work is easy, cheap, impersonal, disposable. Like fast food, fast fashion, we suddenly have “fast art.” Is it satisfying? Is it nutritious? Does it sustain us as artists? Does it sustain our audience? This idea of fast art has always been around. AI is … Continue reading Fast Art by Kate Bennis