First impressions can be unexpected. Driving into Athens and looking at its poorer parts, my wife and I first thought of Mexico. When I went to see the Parthenon, it was soon clear I could never escape a crowd of tourists snapping pictures… I knew its significance, but felt alienated from its actual, physical presence. At a loss, I wandered into the ancient Theatre of Dionysus where the great plays were first performed in a rare moment when entertainment and a profound impulse to understand man and fate coincided. I found the … Continue reading Finding Greece by Lance Lee→
In high school I was an associate editor for our school’s art and lit magazine, Pen & Ink. We’d meet weekly to review submissions under the tutelage of our faculty advisor, whose love and gift for teaching English had him engaging both special-ed ninth grade English students and seniors in AP Humanities. He’d sit back and respectfully listen to our staff’s thoughtful conversations about the submissions, jumping in every now-and-then with a suggestion or to humorously call out overly indulgent poetic language like, “…lurked menacingly on the penumbra.” In our editorial process, votes for submissions fell … Continue reading Rejection→
It was just about a hundred years ago that Martha dropped dead. She was found on the floor of her cage at the Cincinnati Zoo and that was that – the end of the last known passenger pigeon on the planet. One lifeless bird signified the extinction of a species whose population once numbered in the billions, perhaps the most abundant bird in the world. They were large, grayish pigeons, not flashy, not exotic, yet in descriptions, something about them evoked the language of magic or mythology: the golden-green iridescence that lit up their plumage, … Continue reading The Pigeons and the President→
A discussion of place continued. One of the distressing things about place is the way places are always disappearing. It’s an odd thing to think about – or at least, I think it’s odd. That may be because I grew up in a rural area. City dwellers, it seems to me, are more used to change. That restaurant where we liked to eat last year? Gone. The bank at the corner of North and Pearl? A parking lot. Or the other way around (most likely). Rural areas change so slowly, it’s possible to develop an … Continue reading A Little Bit Haunted→
I wasn’t a natural writer but I always wanted to be one. Born in New York City, I soon moved to Providence, Rhode Island with my family and then to Washington, D.C. where my father began working for the C.I.A. After a few more years, we moved to Germany with his job. I attended boarding schools in Switzerland and Concord, Massachusetts. I had a rooting nature like a tree, but with all the moving around I got turned into a rolling stone. I found life on the road exhilarating, painful, and confusing. I depended on … Continue reading Getting Over Myself by Jane Barnes→
Julia Aurora Travers likes to mix it up. Her creative talent and social concerns combine in various venues—as artist, designer, writer and teacher. A native of Hampton, Virginia, Travers now lives in Charlottesville where she teaches preK classes and designs locally as well as a volunteer for CitySquare, an anti-poverty, non-profit in Dallas, Texas. She recently completed a graphic design internship with The Atlantic Post, an international online news journal. She and her husband, Jeff, have co-written and illustrated a new children’s book, Sylvie and Foster. Travers’ community art efforts span from an elementary school … Continue reading Mixing It Up… Art of Julia Aurora Travers→
Charlottesville, Virginia, where Streetlight operates from, is full of Ph.D candidates, post-docs and masters students, thanks to Mr. Jefferson’s University. Amid all the academic types, a person without some kind of post-graduate education can sometimes find herself feeling a touch inadequate. There. I said it. Luckily, for those of us without the focus, freedom, or finances, formal knowledge is as accessible these days as frozen yogurt. Personally, I’ve found my university in the pages of The New Yorker and in the sweet sounds of Radiolab, an NPR podcast. Podcasts are a newer medium for me, listening to “radio” … Continue reading Radio Star→
In 1983 I gave up on acting. I was a sophomore in college. It was not an easy choice. Since junior high, I had been convinced I was going to be America’s answer to Laurence Olivier. I had chosen to attend California State San Francisco because their Theater Arts department was aimed at training for the realities of a career in stage, film, and television and I loved the limelight. But, it turned out that the program’s realistic approach to careering, the emphasis on cultivating commercial skills —feeling no shame singing and dancing … Continue reading Poison and Antidote→
Thanks, Jim This is by way of being a thank-you note to Jim Bundy, whose excellent blog of April 28, this year, so well demonstrated what it is to think metaphorically on the subject of street light. The “blurring of streetlights and angels” indeed. That challenge to “transcend the separateness” seems to me to be a very appropriate gauntlet for Jim to throw down not only before himself, but before the editors and potential contributors to this magazine. And certainly, its readers. The unromantic fact, of course, is that the present editors of Streetlight Magazine … Continue reading Thanks, Jim→
A Writer Retreats I was on a quest. A quest for a room of one’s own to finish my draft, far from the hurly-burly of New York City. A lucky Google search led me to The Porches Writing Retreat and a photo of an antebellum house in the James River Valley of Virginia and the Blue Ridge Mountains. Ladylike and pristine, she’s perched in all white on top of a green hill. The lower porch is wide, welcoming and wears azalea and iris and every manner of flowers by day. Her lines are elegant, her … Continue reading Green Fields. Blue Mountains. A White House. A Yellow Dog.→
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