Radio Star


 

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

Poison and Antidote


 

    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


 

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

Green Fields. Blue Mountains. A White House. A Yellow Dog.


 

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.

Mystery Revealed at Morven Farm


 

The mystery will be solved on Saturday at six. The Virginia Center for the Creative Arts (VCCA) will unveil “The Commission” at Morven Farm in Charlottesville on Saturday May 10th. This year’s Commission — “Coming to Know What We’ve Always Known” — showcases a collaborative art installation created for one night only. Proceeds from the gala fund-raiser will afford future artists time at the VCCA working retreat in Amherst County. The 2014 winning Commission combines the imaginative work of VCCA Fellows, poet Sally Dawidoff and visual artist Georgia June Goldberg. Dawidoff’s poems have been published … Continue reading Mystery Revealed at Morven Farm

Dickey Ride by David Moody

rear view mirror
 

Dickey Ride   Three hours north of Augusta, the music pumped through our car speakers asks on repeat         Don’t you want a dickey ride?         Don’t you want a dickey ride? I must admit I think I do, only what I want is akin more to that James Dickey, canoe down a river, drunk fun voyage, something action, some adventure, but not even that. It’s the ride I’m in now, four friends in a Ford carousing around Rabun, North Georgia chanting mid-90s rap to mica-lined rocks, them shining back like broken disco balls, sort of a … Continue reading Dickey Ride by David Moody

Elevating the Unexpected: Paintings by Michael Fitts


 

Water pistols. Animal crackers. Twinkies. Paper airplanes. Dollar bills, paddle ball toys and boxes of popcorn. Fun and games, but maybe not the stuff of fine art. Unless you’re Virginia artist Michael Fitts. Fitts’s art not only elevates the unexpected, he does so using untraditional materials – scraps of sheet tin, copper and aluminum. Old metal—with all its worn and surprising surfaces—began to interest Fitts in 1989 after he’d graduated in graphic design from Virginia Commonwealth University. “I was in Richmond, and it was my first time living in the city. I began collecting things … Continue reading Elevating the Unexpected: Paintings by Michael Fitts

Between Lanes by Stephen Poleskie


 

Off to my left the dark current of the Hudson River rushed downstream at 65 mph, a magnificent sight, but at the moment my mind was concentrating on the tail lights bobbing and weaving in and out of traffic in front of me. I was somewhere in the middle of the pack, an anonymous group of motorcycle enthusiasts who met on summer evenings on Eighth Street in Greenwich Village to ride out together. Being, more or less, one of the regulars, but never the leader, I would hang around, chatting and ogling the passing chicks, … Continue reading Between Lanes by Stephen Poleskie

House Hunting by Lee Foust


 

The first thing you need to do is case the neighborhood, check out all of the streets in the area, walk around between the buildings—imagine yourself passing by these same sights every day. You have to be lucky too. You have to imagine yourself coming home to the apartment, wanting to go back, night after night, yours for better or worse. You don’t want to be driven out sooner than you feel like going. You have to be prepared for what it might do to you, how it might make you feel. You have to … Continue reading House Hunting by Lee Foust

Lunchero by Larry Strauss

tacos truck
 

I used to think the school at which I taught should have been named Rodney Dangerfield High because nobody got any respect. Oppressive rules treated students like babies. Weapons checks regarded them as criminals. Teachers faced overcrowded classrooms with shamefully inadequate resources and endured blatant—and often profane—rudeness from students and endless interruptions from everyone. We—the teachers—disregarded administrative rules as a matter of course. Other high schools and the district as a whole disdained us because we were small and had no football team, because our basketball team had a reputation for fighting and mayhem (because … Continue reading Lunchero by Larry Strauss

Streetlight Magazine is the non-profit home for unpublished fiction, poetry, essays, and art that inspires. Submit your work today!