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Panika M. C. Dillon
Eileen R. Tabios
Sean Patrick Hill
90 Miles to Nashville
oil on canvas 48” x 36”
Alley Cat oil on canvas 60” x 48”
POETS & ARTISTS
Panika M. C. Dillon
Eileen R. Tabios
Sean Patrick Hill
I. DIDI MENENDEZ Creative Director I. For submission guidelines and further information on O & S.com .C. please stop by www. anthologies. etc.com. This issue is also available for a limited time as a free download from the O&S website: www.com.poetsandartists.interviews 014 Claudia Emerson art reviews 035 102 José Parra Wade Reynolds poetry reviews Publisher / E. Print copies available at www.amazon. 2008 short story 024 Heavenly Shades of Night Are Falling miporadio 048 Juliet Cook Copyright reverts back to contributors upon publication. radio. BESS Poetry Editors DAVID KRUMP WILLIAM STOBB Interviewer GRACE CAVALIERI Reviewers STEVE HALLE GRADY HARP MELISSA McEWEN MICHAEL PARKER 005 Sandra Simonds Columnists DAVID CADDY GRACE CAVALIERI 081 110 Kristy Odelius Short Story Contributor KIRK CURNUTT 131 Rebecca Foust A Collection of Favorites.poetsandartists. M. podcasts. O&S requests first publisher rights of poems published in future reprints of books. website publications.
furs. That’s what they call a “nation. pins. She seems to delight in poking fun at every available thought others take too seriously. 2008 Review By GRADY HARP Sandra Simonds explodes on the scene as a poet who has the brazen audacity to describe the world as she really sees it! Not only are her topics drawn from her own occasionally too private experiences/fantasies. Sam. He’s gone. I AM SMALL but my life is enormous.arterial strings.” That’s what they ask the syringe and turkey baster holding zookeeper . In this country they make lists (in hieroglyphics) of all the unions that will ever take place. penises nipples. Let’s get hitched in the roomy cage of the latest newly extinct species. and the result of all this is poetry that not only sings.5 ORANGES & SARDINES Wonderfully Wild Woman Writes Winsome Wisdom: WARSAW BIKINI by Sandra Simonds Bloof Books. but she also has the courage to delve into areas most poets avoid – yelling secrets of others with one of the richest and most colorful vocabularies imaginable. Huge as angels. aortas. sweat glands. There’s no way out of this one. Who knows how large this zoo is when you take into account all the cages . but also explodes like a crackling sky of fireworks and bursting stars. There’s room. Huge as zookeeper’s heart.
There are no ornaments because this isn’t Christmas. Put a silver ribbon in your hair. blasé pandas. TOMORROW’S BRIGHT BRACELETS Winter lungs are white trees. But beneath the brittle caustic veneer of this young medicine man of words lies a tender streak she attempts to shadow with humor. YOU SHOULD PUT A NEIGHBORHOOD ON THAT recalls her school years including: ‘I’ve learned the way/ of the crosswalk. I fled. My eyes are pale like a crust of ice over a long river. Put on all of your bright bracelets and walk out into the feathered snow. making the resultant poem more memorable.take off all of your clothes. the ‘Intelligentsia’.’ And with only this small taste of the feast Simonds produces page after page it is difficult to communicate the marksmanship of her verbal jabs and the extent of her at times glossolalia manner of writing. In other poems such as THE ACADEMY OF THE FUTURE: SCENARIOS AND MODELS she ingeniously mixes satire and raw humor together with some center target criticisms of education. and wild fantasies. once there the reader won’t want to leave! Wonderfully Wild Woman Writes Winsome Wisdom . and Fran/ (the guard) who/ held the DO NOT CROSS sign. Winter lungs are bare white trees. and then take off all of your underclothes and watch your flushed cheek turn gray in a mirror. and while it takes a poem or two to plug in to her unique style of expression./ Her face went puce/ her webbed/ feet never did finish/ her floral cross-stitch on which/ she sets the breakfast table/ to the sound of hornets’ acoustics/ across from the plant pumps/ so much Chevron fuel/ that half the town/ I fled.6 ORANGES & SARDINES to sedate the African elephants and artificially inseminate the black and white. What would the gift-givers say if they saw us now? What will they tell the world? And when you are home: Open all of the windows in your small house . But communicate she does. Some of Simonds’ more powerful works are poems that address her childhood or her past experiences or whatever that arena is that feeds her writer’s imagination. flowers/ in false cuttings.
I can’t breath like this. like this will take the weight off. Dillon hails from Fairbanks.7 ORANGES & SARDINES Panika M.C. you’re sitting on my chest again. burn that muffle. that fog burned off the roads into my lungs. the words don’t come. I for you. I say. I can’t breathe. depressed breathing. . too. that’s just not enough. C. I say. I have no words. AK and Austin. you’re sitting on my chest & the words. She received her MFA in creative-writing poetry from Sarah Lawrence College. it could be called. or don’t come the way you want them to. depressed breathing. Dillon Panika M. TX. take the weight off. I have only the fog & roads of my lungs & that’s not enough. it’s called. you want them.
bethedwards. At times.Beth Edwards www.com “I wish to depict human situations without being obligated to the logic and restrictions of the human form. I am using vintage dolls as stand-ins for people positioned in settings meant to evoke pleasure and joy.” . they are relishing nature. in other pieces. these characters inhabit ideal interiors appointed with mid-century furniture and modernist art.
The characters exude joy and are visibly taking pleasure in their surroundings. There is a direct relationship between the two. the Plus One Plus Two Gallery in London and is represented by the David Lusk Gallery in Memphis. If you knew your time was up what would be the last image you would leave us with? I hope I am painting the kind of paintings that I would be if my time was up. like most artists. I wish for the paintings to be pleasurable to make although there is obviously a lot of hard work required to make a painting. but I share their ability to appreciate their surroundings. Her work is in numerous public and private collections including the Howard and Judith Tullman Collection in Chicago and the Brooks Museum of Art in Memphis. It is important for me to connect with the emotion in the making of the image – at least sporadically. She received her Bachelor of Fine Arts from Tyler School of Art and her Master of Fine Arts from Indiana University. Her work appeared on the cover of New American Paintings in 2001 and again in 2004. I would collect the work of Amy Sillman. occurs from a myriad of factors and is not credited with much significance. Will Cotton and Lisa Yuskavage. Which artist/photographer do you admire or has had the biggest influence on your work? The artist who has had the greatest influence upon my work is Edward Hopper. Collecting art is an addiction. I live much more modestly than my characters. And I wish for the viewer to feel deeply happy looking at the painting. I know I am looking at someone who has guided me profoundly at various points in my work. goofiness and sensual beauty at that point of soul searching and stock taking. In my work. Laurie Hogin of Chicago. I regularly collect the work of current and former students. Stanley Whitney. How do you bring emotion across to a flat surface? Happiness is the emotion that I am interested in conveying. American aesthetic. When I look at Hopper. How does your environment influence your work? It is impossible for one’s environment not to affect one’s work. My husband and I have collected the work of Chris Uphues and Helen Beckman of New York. “The Almond Tree”is a quiet and very humble final picture. the Clark Gallery in Lincoln. I have always been interested in the parts of life which are often overlooked. the Leonard Tachmes Gallery in Miami. Currently. His iconic images are the result of hard work. If money was not a consideration. Jean Koeller of Dayton. She has taught at the University of Dayton and currently teaches at the University of Memphis.Hopper is a kindred spirit.9 ORANGES & SARDINES Beth Edwards was born in Decatur. Massachusetts. My work is about finding pleasure in one’s circumstances. Whose work would you acquire if you were a collector? I do collect art. Happiness is obviously fleeting. Bonnard’s last painting. I came to his work much later and it continues to grow for me in waysthat are hard to even describe. I work in a studio that we built onto our home. aspects of life which are largely invisible. I am interested in making paintings that are literally in pursuit of that emotion through the images themselves. the more I am struck by his work’s unconventional power – its rawness. am interested in the development of artists’ work as they approach the end of their lives. I take immense pleasure in living with art that I Q&A learn from and enjoy on a daily basis. His work has been one of the greatest revelations for me as an artist. Matisse’s work is usually characterized as being about sensual beauty. I also have a passion for Japanese prints of the Edo period and have collected several of those. The more deeply I engage with Matisse. Alabama in 1960. Ohio. It is a domestic setting and my work is about domestic environments. She has exhibited at the Gallery NAGA in Boston. I hope that I can retain some of my belief in the importance of humor. I. the Tory Folliard Gallery in Milwaukee. and Adam Jaynes and Carlos Estrada-Vega of Los Angeles. I have two walls of windows in my studio – my yard is very lush in the summer. Jennifer Moses of Boston. Morandi’s last paintings almost evaporate. . But the artist that I admire the most is definitely Matisse. I feel a deep debt to his down to earth.
10 ORANGES & SARDINES Hot Dog! Beth Edwards oil on canvas 32” x 38” .
11 ORANGES & SARDINES Happy Day Beth Edwards oil on canvas 32” x 38” .
12 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Summer Beth Edwards oil on canvas 42” x 60” .
13 ORANGES & SARDINES Lucky Lad Beth Edwards oil on canvas 40” x 60” .
Pharaoh. Southern Review.Emerson is the Claudia Emerson photo credit: Barry Fitzgerald recipient of a Witter Bynner Fellowship from the Library of Congress and fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Virginia Commission for the Arts. 2005. Her poems have appeared in Poetry. New England Review. and other journals. . Among honors. She is also the author of the poetry collections Pharaoh. TriQuarterly. Claudia is now appointed Poet Laureate of Virginia. and Pinion: An Elegy all volumes published in Dave Smith’s “Southern Messenger Poets” series. She writes poems that are unequalled in American letters for their intricacies and intensity. Her newest collection.) the most personal and intimate of her works. She is professor of English and Arrington Distinguished Chair in Poetry at Mary Washington College in Fredericksburg. was published in 2008 (LSU Press). Shenandoah. Virginia. She was awarded the 2006 Pulitzer Prize in Poetry for the book. Figure Studies: Poems.14 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Grace Notes: GRACE CAVALIERI INTERVIEWS CLAUDIA EMERSON CLAUDIA EMERSON is a gifted and beloved teacher. Each book is a cauldron of power. Late Wife: Poems (LSU Press.
and writers’ groups. The audience may have been retired—but they were not retiring. and mentor emerging poets. I have to be ready and able to lose the kind of intellectual worrythat expectation connotes to me. GC: When you start a poem.15 GC: How does the Poet Laureate of Virginia dust the state with poetry consciousness? CE: As Poet Laureate. book clubs. I have continued to do many of the things I did before the appointment—judge local poetry contests for the public library. something I have been drawn to for much of my writing life. GC: If you were to write your memoir. and while I know it’s the work of the imagination. and for . very interested in hearing poetry and talking about it. Shenandoah and Virginia Quarterly Review among them. for example. with some of the best writing programs in the country as well as several stellar literary magazines and small presses. I can expect a kind of loss of self in the writing. ORANGES & SARDINES Virginia is very rich in poetry. or as good as I can make it! Grace Notes Claudia Emerson GC: Does each of your poems have a main event? CE: Not exactly. and I can also expect to be very compulsive about working on it until it’s right. But if everything goes well. I have also begun a website called Virginia is for Poetry. and my plan is to make it a gateway to poetry resources in the state. or dealt with in another poem in a sequence. I have received many more inviations to visit schools. Since the appointment. what age would you choose to begin your journey? CE: I’d probably begin not with memory but with my birth narative. She takes great joy in the telling. I found them wonderfully engaged and welcoming. One of my favorite trips was to the Greenspring retirement community in Northern Virginia. but often the main event or the original subject is off to the side. and I have already put links to various programs and publications on the website as a beginning. etc. the story my mother tells me every year on my birthday—how I was born in an ice storm so severe even the doctor couldn’t get to the hosptial. The poems can have a controlling metaphor as the center of gravity. and I try not to “expect” anything for fear I’ll jinx it. what do you expect to happen? CE: I tend to think about a poem for a good long while before I write it. I see parts of the story as though I am remembering.
GC: What is the sweetest thing the writer surrenders? CE: When the writing is at its best. what do you reject from the poem? CE: At first. (I have also been interested artistially with animal consciouness and continue to be fascinated by how we interact with other creatures. then those printed out and scribbled over—all of this before I begin to commit to line and form. GC: While writing. . I leanred that even when people live in prescribed circumstances. the every day. I saw plenty of people living lives defined by the land and the weather. GC: What is a balanced poem? CE: I suppose the notion of balance would mean for me that the poem has all it seems to need--and in the right measures. absolutely nothing. GC: How is your dignity of the rural world carved from the difficult/the hard lifestyle? CE: The early inspirations for my work ORANGES & SARDINES were firmly in the landscape of southside Virginia. my process is very messy involving pages of notes handwritten. I am an obsessive brainstormer and note-taker.16 some reason I see the scenes in black and white. and the small family farm is no longer central to the agricultural economy of southside Virginia. probably because all my childhood photographs are black and white. Growing up. but also in terms of how farming families are regarded in general. GC: In the act of writing. they try to live as best they can. defined by class and gender. finding meaning in the land and in family. I will of course make choices— consider what to cut. I surrender the worries of the ordinary.) The rural life I grew up around has changeda great deal. what is reverence? What is chaos? CE: Reverence in writing lies in carefully measured language. then more notes typed. though. and that the value of such farming will rise not just in terms of how much Grace Notes Claudia Emerson money people can make. even though those very concerns are often at the core of the poem that’s taking me away. I hope that the changing ways we think about farming will bring back the importance of local agriculture there. As I continue to write my way through the ideas. particularly in rural areas. how to better work the form.
since poetry is for me the highest ordering of langauge. so the rest of the week I worked in a small used Grace Notes Claudia Emerson bookshop. don’t take offense when you know none was intended. Chaos would be to abandon meaning. The combination of slow days in the shop with plenty to read switched up by long solitary days driving through the tired but beautiful landscape of Pittsylvania County inspired the first poems I wrote. make the messy drafts I mentioned earlier. obsessions that would not be ignored. don’t trust arrogance. Whitman. often a poem a day. GC: Have you ever had a poem burst into existence in spite of you? CE: I can’t say that a poem has ever “burst” into being for me. Roethke. I had a portfolio that took me to the Unversity of North Carolina at Greensboro for an MFA I completed in 1991. journal. though.17 even when the triggering subject is chaotic. I do believe in discipline and dedicating as much time as I can to writing—by giving myself time alone to think. that my stops weren’t really all that frequent. (The route was so rural in fact. Frequent Stops US Mail—86 miles. GC: Is it true you were once a mail carrier in a rural world? What did you think as you traveled the roads? CE: I actually drove a rural route in a little red and white Chevy S10 with a sign strapped on the back—Caution. I began to write with a ferocity I haven’t known in the same way since. but I have had insistent ideas. While Frost warned that we can’t worry a poem into being. As for writing? I have a quote on my desk attributed ORANGES & SARDINES to Rita Mae Brown: Never hope more than you work. Bishop. . I read a lot of poetry then that I had read as an undergraduate at the University of Virginia. Williams. and Dickinson as an adult maturing into a life not very fulfilling. but I came backto Frost. two thirds of it dirt roads. and within a year and half. never be bored. GC: What wisdom traditions do you cherish? CE: Life wisdoms? Forgive mistakes made in love. and I find particualry chaotic poetry written according to some theoretical fashion. or efforts at meaning. sometimes two or three miles between boxes!) I was part time. and the thesis I wrote there became (after a lot of revision of course) my first book in 1997. I was 34 years old. so the resonances were both fruitful and sobering.
British Columbia.Kristy Gordon Kristy is an internationally exhibiting fine artist. two Awards of Excellence from the Federation of Canadian Artists. Born in Nelson. Illinois. and a Juror’s Choice Award from the Orillia Museum of Art and History. Gordon “I paint people in simple poses with strong. Kristy Gordon’s paintings hang in more than 400 collections worldwide. Best of Show in the National Art Premier. including the Government of Ontario Art Collection. including Third Prize at the Portrait Society of Canada International Portrait Competition. I resist the temptation to idealize or romanticize. Instead I allow the pure truth of the subject to take visual form on the canvas. she has earned numerous prestigious awards. psychological evocations. Elmhurst.” .
. Although I also think that accredited post-secondary art schooling can provide many other benefits. Since I work primarily from life. When we are in a certain mood. Sometimes. then I select a pose. so this helps the treatment of the painting “feel” like the emotion that I want to express. Do you have a ritual or specific process you follow when creating art? Normally. There are just so many things that I love about Rembrandt paintings. I start with thumbnails or quick drawings to get a basic idea and composition. I’ll actually get into the mood that I want to convey in the piece. so both are useful. as I go. I try to think about what I want to express with the painting. when I’m doing the painting. I really enjoy the way each of them include themes in their work. then work gradually more and more into the details. and most often academies and ateliers are the best place to get that kind of training. selecting the most appealing position of things such as exact placement of hands and hair. or it may be a more conceptual piece. or using a mirror. we naturally create brushstrokes and shapes that express that feeling. It could be the lighting and the chiaroscuro or the textures and paint quality. I can look at a Rembrandt painting again and again and each time see something new and inspiring. I will make adjustments to the pose and details Which three other artists would you consider to be your contemporaries? Jeremy Lipking. I find that I normally call it “done” and then continue to look at it from a distance. Generally I block in the light side and shadow side of the main forms. Perhaps an inner emotion or feeling. and make a few final adjustments to it before it’s really finished. gesture and expression that embodies that theme. How do you bring emotion across to a flat surface? First. trying to think about what mood or concept I want to convey in the painting. establishing the larger overall colour patterns. How do you feel about formal training? I think that getting the fundamentals in drawing and painting techniques is extremely important. often finishing off with some glazes. Yuqi Wang and David Kassan. Then. Then I start to block it in with oil paint on the canvas. what I want to capture or say about the sitter. I’ll also put it away for a week and then look at it with fresh eyes and add some final touches before calling it complete.19 ORANGES & SARDINES Q&A Which artist/photographer do you admire or has had the biggest influence on your work? Rembrandt. It is that combined with a beautifully painted work that has areas of tight rendering mixed with painterly expressive brushstrokes really impresses me.
Easter Sunday oil on panel 20” x 16” Kristy Gordon .
Graciela oil on panel 10” x 8” Kristy Gordon .
Woman and Mannequin oil on linen 28” x 22” Kristy Gordon .
Raven oil on panel 10” x 8” Kristy Gordon .
as he confided afterward to his daughter. It won’t cost us any to wait until she’s twelve. and nothing— not even a steep twenty-five-cent admission price—was going to stop Sis .” Sis had overheard Dorothea tell Clinton. That seems the right age for a child to handle the chopping block. and Sis didn’t believe anything was beyond her ken. Of all the facts of death on a farm. Sis was old enough to work the teatcups in her father’s milk barn.” But five years was only two less than her age. Yet even though Dorothea had grown up in the country. Higher authorities apparently agreed. “I just know enough not to run contrary to Ma. her father.24 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Heavenly Shades of Night Are Falling SHORT STORY BY KIRK CURNUTT (Part One) All her life Sis had been told to stop running around like a chicken with its head off. She’d helped birth a foal and had once driven the tractor when a calf carcass had to be dragged through the pasture for disposal. “I know it’s silly. A little girlishness. She understood where venison and sausage came from and was never squeamish when she came across a putrefying squirrel or raccoon while playing at the creek. poultry butchering was one thing to which she’d never quite acclimated. “It’s only five years. Just indulge me. Tonight Mike the Headless Chicken was coming to the Shelby County Fair. That’s a flash of time you’ll be too busy to ever even feel. and now she was going to see for herself what that meant. because he necessarily shared Dorothea’s concern. “but I want her to have a little innocence. and she believed in the gentler arts of dollmaking and appliqué and Theorem painting.” To Sis’s disappointment.” Clinton explained. she was still a woman. Sis. her father had agreed — though not. It was her mother’s fault that at seven she’d yet to learn. They’d intervened in the form of a sideshow attraction that rendered five years a moot point.
No time to dillydally. she slipped into her underwear and sprinkled talcum on her chest.” the old woman sighed. She was rubbing the powder into her belly when the door unexpectedly opened. A feedsack for now will do. There would be other girls at the fair whose dresses originally arrived at their parents’ farms bagging a hundred pounds of chicken meal or fertilizer. but the ground’s dry enough you can break them in tonight. anyway. she’d say. The dress was as new as her shoes. too. In her father’s old bedroom in her grandmother’s house she toweled herself from a fresh bath. She was squeezed between her grandma . but she was more excited about it. Because I’m so sweet. no. It was the first one she’d sewn on her own—mostly on her own. his eyes goggling like a horse’s. “You forgot your socks. so when she ran back to the bedroom Sis made sure to take a breath and think if there was anything else she might not remember. So as Sis stepped into the handiwork her mother had helped her guide straight between the feed dogs and the throat plate she pretended the material wasn’t scratchy osnaburg. with blue-shaded morning glories and lilacs for a pattern. He set a pair of white Mary Janes on the uncarpeted floor. fixing his gaze to the ceiling. From outside she heard the rumble of Horace’s twenty-year-old Ford coupe as he backed it from the barn. you’ll have to work your way up to that and then to a finer fabric. If anybody asked. “Here’s your shoes. but Dorthea had said.25 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S from being there when he took to the stage. anyway. You ain’t forgot your money. Sis would claim hers was from a sugar sack. though—I’m starting the car.” Sis didn’t wait for the rubbed powder to soften the pink speckles the hot bath had given her skin. As long as she could remember she’d watched Dorothea work the treadle and bobbin on the Singer and now she was old enough to do it herself. Once dry. will he? There’s a pair in the laundry basket. Sis would’ve preferred her Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling first one be made of muslin. The man she’d been told never to call Grandpa froze in the threshold. “You got to teach her to throw that bolt. As much as my guts been hated around here. the last thing I need is her telling Clinton I caught her in nothing but her skivvies. Sis could hear Horace’s voice over the thump of his heels. She grabbed her shoes and a hairbrush and raced through the house to the porch where her grandma waited. “That chicken won’t have nothing on you. Once in the black coupe she slipped her quarter into her right sock so she wouldn’t lose it. “Your grandma was saving these for Christmas. Getting the Mary Janes over her heels wasn’t easy.” he said. have you?” She had.” After the door closed. Ethel. It was a pretty dress. No.
26 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S and the man who wasn’t her grandpa.” Horace said as they puttered along Blue Ridge Road. I say ‘most of’ because the chop misses the jugular and the brain stem. So this Mike is able to strut around with his own head under his wing. which is what controls a chicken’s reflexes.” he insisted. According to Charlie. He didn’t want to spill any beans. As freeing as it might seem not to be plagued by selfconsciousness—which is the fall of man. I’m sure for however many dollars he made that Colorado farmer there’s been plenty of men decapitating their flocks in hopes of recreating that miracle lop.” “Oh. and it’s a rare chicken that’s gonna live a decade. if you ask me—it was a one in a million stroke what spared Mike from knowing his peculiar condition. Ethel had to cup her free palm around the bend in Horace’s shirtsleeve to protect her grand-daughter.” Horace gave the impression of preferring to listen to himself instead of her. much less a decade and Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling some with no noggin. and whenever Horace shifted gears.” Sis sniffed. but that wasn’t unusual when her notgrandpa gabbled. It’ll take another million years for it to happen again. this can’t even be the original Mike the Headless Chicken. but something about another man rasping clippers across your skull makes a fellow real chatty. “There’s a reason you can’t yank the beard on a bearded lady at these sideshows. Ethel finally tucked the girl’s legs onto her own lap. Even then. He gives the critter an odd chop with the hatchet that takes off most of its bean. Horace’s bent arm whirled wildly at her. “Charlie Hearns who’s on the fair board was in the other day for a trim. They’ve yet to make the glue that’ll hold a phony one in place.” Ethel answered for Sis: “I would think headlessness’d be far harder to rig up than a fake beard. that don’t mean he’s done with mirrors or nothin’. his elbow inadvertently popped her right above the breadbasket. “Just because he’s not the first one. He didn’t seem to notice that. . not even knowing his head is under his wing. I’ve done my checking up on this. “You know how this whole monkey business started? Charlie told me all about it. Like I said.” “That doesn’t mean this Mike’s hiding his head. One day a farmer in Colorado goes out to butcher a Wyandott rooster for dinner. it’s a one in a million stroke that not even the best surgeon in France could’ve given Louis the Sixteenth. he was more concerned with how wide Sis had to spread her knees for the gearstick to make it to fourth. because that one would have to be thirteen years old. sitting Sis sidesaddle.” Sis didn’t understand a word of this. “Don’t get too disappointed if this Mike business turns out to be a fraud.
” Nobody spoke the last few miles to the fairground. When they arrived at the dirt lot a man with dark circles under his shirt arms motioned them into a parking spot. I know you’re not too snooty for some jinglejangle. just Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling ignore them. I would ask you to step outside. “I’m giving you every bit of spare change I got today. so this girl and me might talk in confidence. Ethel. too. You’re here to have a good time. Her voice was low and humming.” Her hesitation had nothing to do with the fact that Horace was the man she wasn’t supposed to ever call Grandpa. Nevertheless. and I’m here to ensure you do. “I don’t have nothing particular to say. “What you know about a chicken could fit on a feather. If they do. You at least act Christian toward me. she tucked the coins evenly at the sides of her ankles and hoped they didn’t slide under her heel.27 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S “Horace. to lug a piggy-bank in her socks seemed a monumental task. not the other. but as much as your children hate my guts the last thing I need is her telling Clinton we were in the car alone together. Take them. but I’d rather you be the beneficiary. It was hard enough to walk on one quarter.” He put his arm on the back of the seat and twisted to face Sis. not unlike the rhythm of the tires. only the second of which Sis understood: teats. and you get you some gum drops and some—” He said the funny name he always used for candy corn. They’re just yakking to give their jaws the workout. Sis watched the cornfields peel by. But then the three of them reached the first tents that marked the .” Horace sighed. I’ve no doubt your ma would appreciate my charity. It was a two-word name. the green and gold blurring until stalks and ears seemed to lose shape and become more liquid than solid. I ought to donate my spare dimes to him. “C’mon now. a pain in his face. And it’d be about as weighty. or you want me to?” he asked the grandmother. hovering above the brown earth like dots of water hurled from the new Zimmatic irrigators the wealthier farmers let prowl their land. Not one way. “You planning to talk to her. Horace shut off the engine but made no effort to open the coupe’s door. “Well.” Ethel finally interrupted. “You need to know that some of the folks preening this midway like cocks of the walk may speak less than flatteringly of your grandma and me. As ragged as Clinton runs his operation.” He reached into his pocket and jangled a handful of loose coins as if he were throwing dice. She knew what those were because each morning she helped her father attach the teatcups to the cows’ udders in the milk barn. It took several strides along the lines of parked cars before the change didn’t pinch. You find the Hokey-Pokey Man.
“I heard he keeps his head in a pickle jar. though. all Sis could see on the signboard above the booth were the words MOVIE STAR. their dresses were adorned with bold floral patterns and electric colors.” Sis didn’t speak.” “Mike’s a rooster. They’re gonna make a robot person. When she craned to see the steel web above the tent tops. not a bolt. they would.” Bobbie Kissling chimed in. tinny and distant. The whirl of orchestral strings made Sis think of the Ferris wheel. when she was old enough. “Mine says he’s gotta be a robot. “Anybody goin’ to the trouble of making a robot. Sis wondered if she’d have to wait to turn twelve before that happened. like hers. not Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling for having no head.” Everybody had an opinion to share. We have a record player in our house. the discomfort gave way to excitement.” Phyllis Metcalf answered. Exactly who the movie star was wasn’t clear. Several yards down the midway a photographer was selling teenage boys the opportunity to have their pictures taken with a movie star. She wondered which she would see first: a movie or a chicken on the chopping block.28 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S midway’s entry. and when Sis spotted some girls she knew.” “My dad says a headless chicken can still lay eggs. “I bet he’s stiff as a board from the taxidermist. There were more important concerns to debate. If he’s laying an egg he’d be famous for that. Sis noticed that. She was listening to music. The woman was brunette and pretty in the way that Sis assumed all movie stars were. sure signs that the fabric came from a feedsack. I saw her and Pa dance to it when they thought I was sleeping on the davenport. In a month and a half they would start second grade together. . “I was with her when she bought it at Murphy’s. though she didn’t know for sure—Clinton and Dorothea had yet to take her to the Strand Theater. she imagined it rotated in tempo to the music. It took her a while to find the source. someday. Only it ain’t his head ’cause his got ate by a cat.” “I bet he’s not even living.” The other girls stopped talking long enough to listen. eight-thirty! Don’t waste all that money on candy! And keep them Mary Janes white as they are now!” The girls were her classmates. Only vaguely was she aware of her grandmother calling out the evening’s ground rules. “My ma has this record.” she told her friends. They kept promising that. but familiar. But it was the music that interested her most. “Back right here.” Margo Ropp was saying. She raced to join her friends without asking permission. “iddn’t gonna make a robot chicken. Nobody was quizzing anybody on what their clothes originally bagged.
“Where is it?” Phyllis asked Helicopter. with dreams untold Each day I pray for evening just to be with you Together at last at twilight time “Ick. where the line of tents broke open to accommodate the rides.” Gaye Caffee grimaced. The whole time he ran the boy twirled his hands at his wrists. not in my ears.” Before anyone could plug their ears to save themselves from Lucifer’s tune. his face white and pasty. he was known as Helicopter. The boy’s name was Walter. Somewhere among the promenade of ring tosses and target shooting.” “This is colored music. The devil likes the coloreds’ music. as he furiously swallowed. Thanks to his spinning hands. too. “I like syrup on my pancakes. “Little Pruitt just threw up by the Tilt-aWhirl! Come see!” He was so eager he didn’t wait to see if the girls followed. none of whom seemed to Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling move with any more urgency than a glue dab. Sis lifted herself onto the railing and scoured the path of grass that lay between it and the rickety ride. She heard a barker with a voice as sharp as a switch call out: “Star of The Magnificent Ambersons. Because the devil likes him. He says Elvis is bad. A few yards away Little Pruitt sat elbows to knees on a folding chair.29 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Deep in the dark your kiss will thrill me. He didn’t no more n’ hop off the platform than it jumped straight out his mouth. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments!” Only when the barker’s voice was too distant for his words to be understood did Sis realize what she hadn’t heard: the song she’d once spied her parents dancing from the davenport where she played possum. by Indiana’s own Booth Tarkington! Academy Award winner for The Razor’s Edge! Most recently seen in glorious VistaVision as the fetching Nefertari in Cecil B. like days of old Lighting the spark of love that fills me. The Tilt-a-Whirl was all the way down toward the other end of the midway. Even from a distance you could see his Adam’s apple going up and down. too. like a shuttle on a sideways loom. . Gimme Elvis Presley or gimme death. but nobody called him that. but they did. Helicopter’s hands were still whirling as he stood next to the railing that kept the line of children from rushing the ride. He always did it when he got excited—once in first grade it was so distracting the teacher made him sit on his fingers. Sis was aware of passing the movie star’s booth. “Should be along here somewhere. “My preacher says not to listen to it. It was like lava!” Along with her classmates.” added Margo. a boy from their class rushed up. The girls were huffing for breath by the time they cut and darted around the clog of adults.
. “You have some left in you?” she asked. “I still got fifty cents to my name. waltzing a cup of water to his queasy sibling. It was Little Pruitt’s brother.” Eddie shot back. A.” “Can’t she just sew it up?” Phyllis Metcalf asked.” he groaned. Just don’t go blabbing I said ‘gash. was—she’d just heard Horace mention it on occasion. the man dug his hand into the can and sprinkled another fistful of shavings over the pile.” somebody said. “I’ll meet you back here in an hour. “If you’re not riding. “I just got dizzy is all. “I ain’t sitting here for an hour.” “Don’t have a heart attack. Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling He liked to say that if any greaseball with a D. “Sure. Chief. He was a fat-faced man who reminded Sis of a storybook illustration she’d seen of the Three Little Pigs. “Empty as a gas tank. keep walking. As they watched.” he told nobody in particular.30 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S “You’re too late. Eddie smiled at Sis and her friends. I don’t need dear old dad boxing my ears because you were the first munchkin ever to get lost at the fair. “Hey. “We didn’t beat the sawdust. sock-hopped into his barber shop. on the dot. He was actually a year older than her but everybody called him Little anyway because he was so much younger than his brother. I’m a master seamster. It felt like an electrical shock.” he finally told Little Pruitt. A. and another jolt burned through the metal. disappointed. Little pressed his stomach with his fingertips and cleared his throat.”the worker snapped. maybe Little Pruitt’s not done!” Before anyone could check a vibration shot through the rail.’ you hear?” He turned back to Little: “Eight o’clock. “The line’s over here. and thanks to his D. “I gotta go see a girl about a gash in her coon-skin cap. A. Jack. He pointed to the children waiting their turn with one of his black hooffingers. the man stood over a small mound swinging a coffee can in one hand while lighting a cigarette with the other.” he smirked. Eddie. He could do that—he was a teenager already.” Helicopter suggested. Only when Sis hopped down did she realize where the pulse came from: the carnival worker running the Tilt-a-Whirl’s controls was hitting the rail with a thick metal pipe.” “Let’s get you a corn fritter and another ride. he looked a little like Elvis. Other than a hairstyle. Eddie pointed to a man on the far side of the rail. “Get off there!” a voice growled. Sis didn’t know what a D. the young man could be sure he’d quadrille out with a crew cut.” Little Pruitt finished the water. I’ve helped a lotta girls with their coon-skin caps. “That’s why she needs my help.” Sis said. Sis walked over to where Little Pruitt sat. Looking about as thin as a quivering cattail.” Eddie was still staring down the pig-faced worker with the pipe.
“I’m just playing with you. she discovered the other girls had kept on walking. Only when she went to take the dime.” Sis pushed the dime deep in her sock. but I didn’t. Go on. he clapped his fist shut. “You dropped something. She wasn’t sure he could. so you owe me. Tipton would. the lit cigarette barely missed her. so she wasn’t sure this one was hers. . “you’re out one whole ride. He was squatting at the rung on the rail where Sis had stood. The man’s grin broke when he realized Sis was looking at his tattoo. too. Only Little Pruitt had waited to make sure she was safe from cattail man. He still seemed dizzy. Sis waited for Little Pruitt to get up. “You lose this. “C’mon on.” When Sis still didn’t take the dime. the one with the can of sawdust. When she turned around. chickadee.31 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S “Maybe you can get sick again. Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling “Aw. barely missing catching her fingers. though. But once upright he found his feet. instantly forgetting his previous suggestion. Sis knew what those looked like because she’d been in her parents’ bedroom before when Dorothea dressed. “Not everybody in this operation’s as honest a man as yours sincerely. This time it was the cattail-quiverer. At first she thought it was a messy scribble of veins. All us carnies got families to feed.” “What we better get is to the show tent.” The group started walking off. though. One more and I’ll be scraping a griddle somewhere. not the dime. “You didn’t see that. It was a naked woman.” Sis didn’t take the dime. ain’t you?” His features were so sharp his face looked like it’d been whittled from a woodblock. Sis could still feel the coins in her socks.” Helicopter offered. I want a seat on an up-close bleacher so I can see down his neck with mine own eyes. The lit cigarette barely missed her. the cattail man took her by the wrist and himself pressed the money into the center of her palm.” “I heard they feed him with an eyedropper. Again.” Bobbie Kissling cut in. Spend it with all the benevolence Mr. flipping the dime into his palm. He quickly yanked his shirt cuff over the image. She wasn’t taking any chances. “Don’t lose it again. but then the form resolved into a familiar shape. They started to follow their friends when they heard a “Hey!” It wasn’t the pig-faced man.” he snorted. The man grinned as Sis returned to the rail to claim her money. Now I could’a kept your money.” Pinched between the same two fingers as his lit cigarette was a sparkling dime. “I don’t want to miss Headless Mike.” the cattail man said. okay? Bossman done repped me twice already for letting it out to air.” he told her. She was distracted by a blue design on the man’s forearm. let’s go. reopening his hand. take it.
she didn’t say anything. “Fifteen cents out of twenty means you get a nickel back. “The Hokey-Pokey man got enough problems. Now his voice was back to normal. Plenty.” Then she thought of the song that had played at the movie star’s booth. He’s likely to pop you. “You can’t say that to him. I do a lot of the milking myself. and fudge. “It’s all good.” he told her.” Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling Little Pruitt pulled three cups from the tray. Nothing in life ought to be so difficult to choose. “You do it. “I help my pa.” Sis was doubtful. but then she saw a familiar figure stationed by the haunted house. Sis laid two dimes on the platter.” he told her. We got a couple who come out to milk for us. licorice bites. so as they approached. little miss. waiting for her to order.” he said as he ate.” the Hokey-Pokey man insisted.” He pushed one from a pile of them to the edge of his platter. His voice was louder than before. Little Pruitt stopped in his tracks.” he said. “Remember the Hokey-Pokey man always makes fair change. As they left the concessionaire. In the tray were little cups of gum drops. “You’ll get me in trouble passing it over straightaway. “A bunch of them live not but a block from here. “But it ain’t gonna gain any flavor just from you two staring at it. “Let’s get some—” She used Horace’s word for candy corn. T’aint nothing.” She was about to tell him he was a liar.” she said under her breath. “Sure. not Sis and Little Pruitt. “There’s the Hokey-Pokey man!” she said.” “We do our own milking. and he kept looking at the fair-goers walking past them. but the truth was the HokeyPokey man scared her a bit. “I just wrestle them down and go to work sawing. She caught Little Pruitt staring at her. shooing a fly from one of the cups. Sis propped a hand to his shoulder for balance to dig money from her sock. “I can tell you ain’t been around many coloreds. the one she didn’t understand. “Here’s you a nickel. She just looked over the tray that hung from his neck by a V-shaped strap.32 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S “You ever seen a chicken butchered?” she asked as they made their way between the rides to the show tent. She started to hand the man the coins.” Sis didn’t understand what he meant.” she answered quickly and defensively. “How’d you do it?” Little Pruitt shrugged. I done it myself. Little Pruitt was trying to figure out how to dig candy corn from one cup while carrying another of coconut haystacks. shaking a long black finger. and her mind went elsewhere. and what Margo Ropp said . but he shook his head and pointed instead to a little platter of nickels and dimes among the candies.” Under his supervision.
leaving Sis to nearly topple onto the ground. “We’ve been holding their places. having correct change. “Yes. Only he says it’s not always colored music just because coloreds sing it. not by choice—it had melted into the side of a red one.33 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S about it. He’s always teaching me about his music. Helicopter and the girls were all in line waiting for the show tent to open. sir.” he nodded his head.” “My ma just buys them at Murphy’s. and not stomping other folks’ hands while propping feet on the bleacher backs.” Little Pruitt’s cheeks plumped as he chewed his second coconut haystack. she’d been relegated to jelly-beans.” “Then she don’t really listen to colored music. Sis let herself believe that dress had originally sacked potatoes. Sis threw a hand to Bobbie Kissling’s shoulder and dug into her sock for her quarter. He even likes some of it.” The man jerked Bobbie so hard . You’re about to Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling witness what will rightly go down in history as the eighth wonder of the world! And I will tell you here and now I personally think tonight’s spectacle should rank higher than either the Great Pyramid of Giza or the Taj Mahal on any such list! Because no man ever made a night’s dinner out of those marvels! But after the soul of tonight’s special guest passes into the azure coop of sky. “You’re Ethel Brandywine’s granddaughter. Your ma’s pork sandwich ain’t sitting well. “I thought I recognized you. a lot of things I say to you don’t sink in. Ladies and gentlemen! a barker in a candy-stripe coat declared through a megaphone as he flipped open the tent flap. When Sis said. “My ma listens to colored music.” What Sis had wanted was candy corn. “So does Eddie. C’mon. She’d only eaten three by the time they reached the show tent. He got in trouble for driving all the way to Chicago to buy his records. We need to go home. She’d just about retrieved it when Bobbie was suddenly jerked out from under her. you can bet his mortal remains will fill a belly or two—hopefully mine! All that overripe oratory was followed by decidedly less grandiose directions about keeping the line civilized. and one of those. despite grumblings from the folks they cut in front of. Instead. My pa lets her. Phyllis Metcalf waved Sis and Little Pruitt forward.” Phyllis told one woman in a cherry red dress dotted with the white silhouettes of tulips. Apparently.” “But Mike’s about to happen—” “I said your ma’s not feeling well. As the barker prattled on. a green one. but Little Pruitt had kept that cup for himself. Because Eddie says Murphy’s don’t stock none. Bobbie. which weren’t sweet enough for her. ain’t you?” A man in brown trousers had Bobbie by the wrist.
Before he could unveil his marvel. no matter what happened next. she was spooked. hers wasn’t the only imagination whirling with wonder at the possibilities of what a chicken running around without its head might mean. Every one else did. A fat man in a plain suit hoisted a cage covered by an apron onto a table. Sis chose the seats because she didn’t want any other friends dragged away simply for sitting in her proximity.34 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Sis thought she might fly out of her shoes.” he told her indifferently.” Sis overheard Margo whisper to Phyllis. too. leaning forward. crudely snapping off instead of dimming. “Just so you know. she was taller. Whether he held her hand to soothe his own anticipation or to comfort hers didn’t really matter. The barker took her quarter with a smile and patted her head. The lights went out. As she stumbled to keep up with his pace. They sat together one row behind their friends. He obviously hadn’t heard of Ethel Brandywine. She rubbed a wrinkle from her dress and stood straight. Sis pushed her elbows into her knees. Sis felt a second startle. A squeal went through the crowd. “I ain’t scared of no chicken. “My stomach hurts. She liked it that even though Little Pruitt was older than her. “Not pork. Sis just felt good knowing that. It took a long time for the crowd to file in. She and her friends watched the man drag his daughter off.” he groaned after a while.” Sis thought of what Horace had said in the coupe. Then she realized what had really given her the scare. This wasn’t the first time it’d happened and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Little Pruitt was curling his fingers among hers.” she heard Little Pete whisper.” “Me neither. The tent swelled with such eagerness that the excitement was almost claustrophobic.” But a second later when a spotlight erupted at the front of the tent. Something brushed her right hand. just as he did the head of every child who entered the tent. “Little Pruitt. too. So long that Little Pruitt not only finished the last of his coconut haystacks but the candy corn and Sis’s jellybeans. “I saw her ma eating a hamburger. (To Be Continued) .” “Peter. Fancy got the better of her and she wondered what kinds of deformities crawled under bleachers in the dark of a carnival. Bobbie stared back bitterly at the line. He dropped each cup under the footwells of the bleachers and then stuck his head down among the row of shoes to see exactly where and how they might’ve Heavenly Shades Of Night Are Falling landed. it’s been so long since I called you anything but Little I can’t even remember your Christian name.
he has managed to bridge that chasm between the old and the new in a language that is ecstatically of his own creation. tradition versus novelty. royalty versus common. Ever a dreamer. outside of introspection and dreams as a child. and reality as interpreted or transfigured by the glorious excesses of Baroque all contribute to his grand and complex paintings that mark the world as a stage waiting to be illuminated by grand costumes and props. His fertile. Early influences. Mexico gallery surrounded by paintings and statuary deeply influenced by Spanish baroque decoration and reproductions. His subject ideas about power versus fear. inquisitive mind embraced that precursor school of Mannerism (1520 – 1580) that responded to the harmonious . yet peopled by those actors who surround him in real life.35 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S The Fragile Thread Between Dream and Reality: Encountering the World Of José Parra Review By GRADY HARP The Queen’s Caravan José Parra is a young artist with an old soul. include working in his father’s Tlaquepaque.
pigment and canvas with an infectious hunger for philosophy and the circles that at times fail to define a beginning and an end – the tangent between real and spiritual. beginning and future or past. The young José Parra combines his technical facility with drawing. His paintings are rich in detail as though he painted them from life despite the very obvious fantasy of his floating ships. signature harlequins. seen and imagined. Raphael and early Michelangelo. It is this journey from the intellectual sophistication of Mannerism to the subsequent artificial excesses of the following Baroque period that brought Parra to his mature style. and melting worlds.36 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S The Last Great Voyage The Royal Fleet ideals and restrained naturalism associated with artists such as da Vinci. brush. Yet the vivid colorful costumes and .
The Last Great Voyage. can find at least momentary solace in transporting ourselves into his spaces of . participate and at least temporarily fulfill those seemingly thwarted expectations. and The Royal Fleet. yet he is also able to paint dramas of touching intimacy as in The False Clothing of Cleonte and the Frida Kahloesque The Queen of Harlequin Monkeys. He is at his strongest in his panoramic paintings such as The Queen’s Caravan. Here is a young and gifted artist to watch.37 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S creative fantasy. And this is his goal: his paintings are not complete until we. the fortunate viewers. the players in a mundane and chaotic world. an artist whose talent goes beyond the expected surface and invites us to dream. a place where we. The Queen Of Harlequin Monkeys The False Clothing Of Cleonte accoutrements of his tableaux don’t completely disguise the tinge of sadness or disappointment of unfulfilled expectations. One of the aspects of José Parra’s paintings that makes his work so poignant in our contemporary world is his ability to take the viewer into another space.
His second collection In the archives (2007) was published by Omnidawn Publishing. He is an Assistant Professor of English at Washington State University. and anticivilization theory. Additionally. ethnopoetics.Christopher Arigo Christopher Arigo’s first poetry collection Lit interim won the 2001-2002 Transcontinental Poetry Prize (selected by David Bromige) and was published by Pavement Saw Press (2003). hunter-gatherer culture. . language extinction. he co-edits the literary magazine Interim with poet Claudia Keelan and is currently working on a booklength hybrid scholarly/ creative nonfiction project on the intersections of ecopoetics.
39 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S from Desert revised 5. this is a further story a furthering of impulse of water pulsing through maiden-hair ferns into an undrying spring: a dog swims in the water you say the dog—a shepherd (—this is no pastoral)— is happy the cool drip is the sound of undying the air drifts in thermals and there are no jets only the sound of your own blood traveling unpanicked the occasional imagined sound from vultures drifting on thermals you confuse with breeze or the stirring of rabbitbrush or single-leaf ash a desert marigold’s almost blinding wave its leaves drawing fine traceries around its base you say there is plenty written about panic and not enough about origins Christopher Arigo .
the light is minor everyday you erode a bit everyday you get to know the light better and better until you predict when the shadow from your eaves falls across the yard between two boulders of granite shipped from who knows where all that remains and remains you gone your remains sufficient to replace you what erases you is not wind-blown sand or freezing and thawing and cracking you are ecstatic in the desert your insistent grip on my arm there is an ecotone between us—-the dust between you and the desert Christopher Arigo .40 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S from Desert revised 9.
mountains take rain and leave virga trailing off above the land you live in the rainshadow rain has afterthoughts called smell of sage—several different species whose names you can never remember: which is silver which is dusty green which has purple flowers which is which is reduced which is tridentata called cooled off from the intense heat that preceded it rain calls with steam what is home and why vapors trail also across the near-blue air—algorhythmic lines bisecting ad infinitum the jets have not traveled overhead near enough for you to erase Christopher Arigo .41 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S from Desert revised 10.
“ I have always been interested in the
language of the body – what is being
expressed by posture and movement, as
well as the marks of time on the body itself.
In response to my own physical
malformation, I am acutely aware of such
ideals as beauty, perfection and symmetry
in relation to the human figure.
Through intense observation of the
model, I slowly build up many layers of
paint to create a material form, giving the
inert pigment the illusion of a flesh and
grew up in
now lives in
where he has
worked as a
as art director
A self taught
artist, he has
He has been
and his work
do you admire or has had
the biggest influence on
I’ve been influenced by
artists from Rembrandt to
Rothko and beyond. The
influence can be more
than any obvious style or
subject matter. I try to
search out anyone painting
the human figure, but I’ve
also found much in works of
non-figurative painters, as
well as artists working in
other mediums. There have
been just as many
“unknowns”as there have
been well-recognized ones
that have had an influence
If I had to pick one, it would
be Caravaggio. Several
years ago I spent several
weeks in Italy for an
independent study. Once I
saw the Caravaggios in
Rome, I would start every
day by going to the S. Luigi
dei Francesi to look at his St.
Matthew triad—and many
times I would also end the
day there. I could not get
enough of those paintings.
Seeing them in person
solidified my desire to be a
paint, paint, paint, and
paint some more. In my
opinion, that’s the most
valuable type of training
How do you bring emotion
across to a flat surface?
I think just by having the
human figure as my primary
subject brings emotion to
my work. I almost never
paint faces. Most of my
models are posed or
cropped so that you never
see the face, because I
don’t want the work to be
about a specific identity.
We usually think of emotion
as coming from the face,
but I think a lot of
expression can come from
the pose, the gesture, the
body language of the
model. I try to use all of the
color, lighting, space, and
even the size and
proportions of the canvas
to assist in conveying
emotion. The psychology of
a piece can change
dramatically just by the
amount of space
surrounding the figure, by
what fills that space, by
how it’s lit.
How do you feel about
I have no formal training as
a painter, and have
regretted this at times. But
I’ve found that formal
training is no guarantee of
success. With or without
training, you have to do
your work. The most
important thing as a painter
is to pick up your brush and
paint. You might make a lot
of messes—you have to just
Have any of your mistakes
become a success?
When I first started painting
seriously, I wasn’t sure what
I was going to do. I only
knew that I wanted to take
a non-objective approach
to painting. But as I would
work, things would emerge,
like a shoulder, a back, or
maybe a thigh. I would
scrape them away, try to
paint them out. And they
would come back, try as I
did to get rid of them. It
was like seeing a shape in
the clouds, once you see it,
it’s there. After much
frustration, I realized—
“PAINT THE FIGURE.” When I
finally let it happen, people
connecting to my work in a
way that had never
happened before. And
surprisingly to me, so did I.
The “mistake” was in trying
to control my work into
what I thought it should be
as opposed to letting it
develop into what it was
meant to be.
Must there be a statement
with each creation?
I think there is too much
emphasis placed on every
work having a statement,
so much so that there is
much more concern with
writing about the work
instead of making the work
In what I do, the focus is on
a body of work, with each
piece contributing to an
affirmation of the whole.
Sometimes there are
paintings that become
more important to me
something may develop in
them to push me to
another level in thought or
I hope that the viewer
different each time they
encounter the work, that
their experience grows and
continues to engage them
in some way. That to me is
the greatest statement that
someone could give about
oil on canvas
57 1/2 x 37 1/2
45 ORANGES & SARDINES Gabriel Jeff Danley oil on canvas 42” x 42” .
46 ORANGES & SARDINES Leda Jeff Danley oil on canvas 31 1/4” x 48” .
1 oil on canvas 13” x 9” Happy Day Jeff Danley oil on canvas 32” x 38” .Submerged No.
Honey bees burst out her eyes.48 ORANGES & SARDINES SHWA 20: Juliet Cook’s Horrific Confection BY DAVID CADDY I would like to say a few words about Juliet Cook’s Horrific Confection originally published as an e book and now published in hard copy by BlazeVox Books (www. Furry bodies wriggle in sockets. within a breakfast image of bloodshot eggs. embryo. glistening marmalade. Little sister ensanguined. fertility and eyes and the knife as implement and weapon. a deadly potion’ (OED 5c). Here the narrator attempts to resist the artificial and sinister world of her mother’s domestic regime: A black line blurs into bristling trellis. introduces two recurring motifs. The book is divided into four sections. and the artificial. The raw seems to permeate and resist the cooked.blazevox. ‘a preparation made by mixing. Leave behind tiny stingers pumping venom into trespassed flesh. especially food. make up as a seasoned delicacy’ (OED 1). ‘heat me up’. compound’ (OED 5) and as a verb ‘to make into a confection. Cook reaches back to older meanings of confection such as ‘a medicinal preparation compounded of various drugs’ (OED 5b) and ‘a prepared poison. mixture. (page 15) . It is set deeply within the meaning of confection as a noun ‘the making or preparation by mixture of ingredients’ (OED 1). ‘heat me up’. showing the domestic to be both constructive and destructive. ‘Morning Fragment’. Throbbing. More than that. ovulation. ‘cool me down’. ‘consume me’ and ‘choke on me’. The opening poem. The egg registers as nutrition. The first section. which provide both a narrative and analytical structure.org) of New York. inhabits a domestic world that is both sensuously tactile and swerves between the kitchen as a site of sanitised violence and food as nourishment and poison. the egg and the knife. straining twisted limbs. glowing hot wire ribs and crumb cake crawling out of the narrator’s throat. to mix. a composition. Juliet Cook’s Horrific Confection combines elements of magical realism and dark horror in a poetic exploration of the domestic.
Domestic violence lurks and hovers in all manner of unexpected places and weapons. I surrender to the toxic spill. ‘She Warns Me’ continues: Mother’s burgeoning tongue. to confectionery and the male gaze. the poem ‘Grotesque Intimacy’ features a narrator that yearns for the artificial and transgressive desire. blinking lights. Here the self and her partner seek invasion: ‘We’re being drained. from the mother figure. I can’t hide.’ The language is suitably double-edged and shifting into a multilayered universe of possibility. smeared. Cyanosis-blue and serrated abduction. Tendons slashed. Knivey licks and public restroom reek of chloroform. ‘Dollophile’. Zombie lips. / dragged into the lush desire for even darker disguises. a bottomless spit valve. A husky hum from the filthy darkness underneath a rusty engine. to Barbie dolls. which concerns male fascination with blow-up and other dolls. ‘deliquesce’. ‘Beady-eyed sweetie. ‘luminesce’. (page 17) In the second ‘cool me down’ section.’ David Caddy SHWA 20: Juliet Cook’s Horrific Confection . He wants a barely legal doll who can fit a small octopus inside like some kind of mutant nesting doll rape. the swarm. and release a steaming shitload of dirty words.49 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Note how the stressed ‘b’ produces a savage intensity. He wants made-to-order. and occasions some blistering and comic language: He wants to smooth pancake makeup onto already poreless ‘flesh’ He wants her preprogrammed ‘voicebox’ to ‘acquiesce’. / They know how you want to be a book. Ripped open dress. Excruciating swell and thrall Words sprawl disembodied. interchangeable crotch panels. The artificial is seen most graphically in the poem. (page 15) Cook’s feminism is indirect and subtle. / Feel the baby earwigs tickle your spine.
‘A shiny knife winks at her. Choke on me shows the impact of the artificial on the young girl that veers away from the domestic goddess to the domestic witch in a blistering series of dramatic and satirical poems. Fake Secretary Sample 2. Gaping and glazed with coagulum. ‘little death scenes’. section gives voice to more mutant confections. ‘Pink Bird’ and ‘The Angel of Death’ bring this energised collection to a climax full of invective and humour. Besmirched Cryptozoology. ‘Swathes of mucus always ooze / from slugs nestled inside her pastel cupcake papers. Your gaping piebald maw.’ in order to avoid decapitation and gives voice to the Gingerbread Girl that ‘didn’t ask to be cut in the shape of a girl. you have felt yourself up for suspicious lumps. horror cakes and gaping holes oozing slime leading to ‘Self Portrait as Semi-Amorphous Entity’ where ‘she’s beating / her own head against a doll house / door’ and the narrator’s head ends up in the cake pan. choke on me. These poems show the ways in which the artificial penetrate other parts of a woman’s life and culminate in ‘Costume Party Afterbirth’ where: You’re more like a pinstriped service provider. Fake Pig Suspended in Silicon Sample 3. ‘Horrific Confection’.’ and later from the same poem. Sample 1. but have nothing real to fill them.’ This is an attack on the artificial as she would prefer to be ‘abstract’. ‘unable to be construed’ and ‘spicy misdeeds’. The section as a whole gives voice to confections that insinuate and fester against the matronly domestic goddess and her opposite the domestic witch. fake cakes. It wants her -. Poems such as ‘Oh Those Mercurial Wrists’. (page 42) The final. ‘Spilled Milk’. Here’s the beginning of David Caddy SHWA 20: Juliet Cook’s Horrific Confection . It is a wonderfully idiosyncratic elegy./ a frosted slice.50 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S The textual solidity of the poems forces through to a world that is less make believe and more credible horror through its constant reminder of the self as consumer and its proximity to the raw. You have anthropomorphized yourself. You have frisked your hollow panda bear head until at least one piece of candy fell out your eye socket. You experiment with cup sizes.’ The third section begins with ‘Self Portrait as Gingerbread Girl’ and takes the reader into the heart of this culinary dystopia. Here the narrator longs ‘for a dress that flaps open’ and to ‘escape this edible mess / of shams. holding down the tongue depressor gag.
is a mere warm-up for the full violence of ‘The Angel of Death’ that links its sustained attack on the artificial to a Catholic upbringing and explodes in visceral anger. in MY visceral guide to uterine occupation. some of them are trying to turn me off. You see. (page 63) David Caddy SHWA 20: Juliet Cook’s Horrific Confection . I’ve cued the seizure-inducing lights and the spew of slashed babymakers. Some of them are trying to get me off.51 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S ‘Oh Those Mercurial Wrists’: The way she froths at the mouth then explodes into sexy blasphemy. This leads to The way she makes up her own eyes with a languorous. The way her lips sizzle then ignite – Bananas Flambé. over-the-top glamour she calls ‘Tarred & Feathered’. Painted flames drizzle down to scintillating nipple ring gleams. ‘Faster Lambchop! We must escape the damned rapscallions!’ (page 54) This. Bang your head to the strains of this heretic cunt. but my motorized blades are still whirring furiously. The way today’s look is called ‘Little Bo Peep the Whore’ as she wields a tiny riding crop. the vagina dententa myth is true. however. My womb is a real muckraker and half the congregation’s dirty fingers are stuck inside. exclaiming.
detailed faces.chinchenghung. I expressed the sentimental human sense with a powerful visual effect through the huge.“My interest. as well as abstract figures that involve motion and minimal atmosphere.com . is to create art that reflects the changing times while maintaining the conventional tools and influences of my culture. as a Chinese artist.” Chin-Cheng Hung www.
I would collect paintings of Jacques-Louis David (17481825). His innovative style and mastery of lighting has had a great deal of influence on my work. I firmly believe that formal training is important for every artist. Besides. or rather. A good art education can prepare an artist with not only good skills.Q&A Which artist/photographer do you admire or has had the biggest influence on your work? I admire photographer George Platt Lynes (19071955) deeply like a lot of photographers although I am a painter. and most recently the cover of The Pastel Journal magazine in June 2008. . and Odd Nerdrum (1944~). An artwork with no rich visual content and clear message won’t be able to impress viewers to keep coming back to visit it again and again. If you knew your time was up what would be the last image you would leave us with? I would definitely leave my self-portrait with the world as my last image if I knew my time was up. One can reform the rules easily when they have learned them. He is a member of several prestigious organizations including the Pastel Society of America. Who’s Who in America. Whose work would you acquire if you were a collector? If I were a collector and if it is possible. I like the way he portraits his models and demonstrates such poetic and romantic disposition with an artistic and classical atmosphere. a reflection/mirror of an artist. New American Paintings. and Who’s Who among American Teachers and Educators. How do you feel about formal training? As a classically trained painter and art educator. I would collect any good figurative work. I personally admire arts that have intense narrative content and can speak by themselves. Maurice Quentin de La Tour (1704-1788). Chin-Cheng Hung is a professor of foundation studies at Savannah College of Art and Design . His biography was selected to be listed in the newest editions of Marqus Who’s Who in the World. but also a more thoughtful process of creativity. A powerful and meaningful artwork can last forever. the Southeastern Pastel Society. To me.Atlanta. and served as a member and former President of the Chinese-American Academic and Professional Association in Southeastern United States. a self-portrait is a true representation of an artist. Must there be a statement with each creation? A good artist must be a good thinker. Who’s Who in American Art. His works hang in many private and corporate collections in Taiwan and the United States. Hung has received numerous awards from different juried competitions and has been featured in International Artist.
54 Chin-Cheng Hung ORANGES & SARDINES .
55 ORANGES & SARDINES Besiege pastel 28” x 72” .
56 ORANGES & SARDINES Animosity Chin-Cheng Hung pastel 36” x 63” .
Infatuation pastel 52” x 24” Chin-Cheng Hung .
Connecticut – always has her head bent down in some book.blogspot. she’s scribbling or doing something poetry related on http://theblacktelephone. When she isn’t reading.Michelle McEwen Michelle McEwen – a writer living in Bloomfield.com/ .
they’d get shoved in the river and not complain. didn’t care how she looked eating a peach. with a girl whose mind was always on crossed legs & Sundays? Those were Thomasville girls for you and Thomasville girls did not impress him— they were made to impress mothers and fathers and aunts. What did he want. Real Coffeyville girls didn’t hold hands—they started at the good stuff. Michelle McEwen . Daddy says he was one of the first in Thomasville to fall hard for a Coffeyville girl. Any weekend you could find them on some corner downtown— holding hands. Even on the football field. he said. the Thomasville boys outshined them and their girls took notice— would do anything to be able to jump down from the bleachers. made fun of him for this. his bunch. Gwendolyn Lee. No one ever really intended to make a Coffeyville girl their main girl—except maybe Coffeyville boys who were no match for the boys of Thomasville. The Thomasville boys. but they’d never be able to say they made it out of Coffeyville on account of a Thomasville boy.59 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Sucker Gwendolyn Lee was the first Coffeyville girl to pay daddy any real attention. lean against the fence and holler out the name of a Thomasville athlete. he said. but they’d never be a main girl— they’d get taken to the prom. they called him. Sucker. but he didn’t mind because to him Gwendolyn Lee was just the sort you hung on to— maybe married.
Even the lightskinned. which I have yet to see. then hops right back up as if her body was jelly. I wish I could have known her like this— loose as jelly and not all-the-time-worrying Michelle McEwen . He has a video tape. court house & a witness. The wedding: Sunday clothes. rushed her into marriage. long-haired women would have been jealous. Darren thinks my mother should have been a Soul Train dancer— bets the camera would’ve zoomed in the most on her.60 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Jelly My cousin Darren is determined to tell me about who my mother really is— who she was before the twins took over her belly. he says. of my mother in little yellow shorts and white boots knee-high— claims at one point my mother drops to the ground.
the butcher knife my mother pressed up against that man’s throat. Michelle McEwen Jelly .61 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S about whether James will like the meatloaf she put in his lunchbox for work. he says. Darren will never forget. my cousin says and he means it— knows and holds on to what he saw that afternoon when a sweet-talking-old-flame came bursting through the door— high or drunk or both. Uncle James got the tame Sarah.
Da says we can’t afford to let butter melt.62 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S July The baby came home in July— right in the middle of summertime. Ma says it’s just butter— and the falling out begins. Makes like he’s smoking no more. too hot to be messing around with some oven. will last all summer. Da always loses his cool in July. how everything’s melting— just like the butter left out all day on the counter. just in time for kitchen flies & butterflies & wild blueberries for the pies that never get made because it is too hot to bake. says Michelle McEwen . gets hotblooded when he can’t sleep off the heat. Look how everything’s ripening.
Michelle McEwen July . But there is never a breeze. in July— and there is never ever enough shade.63 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S it’s a breeze being cigarette-less and a father now of four girls. but we don’t have it made. so she keeps a tight hold on the four of us because the boys on our street can’t wait for us to get older. Ma could use a maid. it seems like.
on prom night. on Monday. For change for a soda. just threw on any old thing. Thomasville folks joked. even on Sunday. were already planning what they’d wear on Sunday. said who needed city women when you had Coffeyville— where the girls didn’t think twice before climbing up trees and into backseats. you could un-tuck. unzip. Michelle McEwen . but all girl when it counted— when it mattered most who’s boy and who’s girl. who’d let you. Gloria-Jean was one of these girls out of Coffeyville. feel up on all the Coffeyville girls and for that. father says. unbutton. They leaped into creeks and waterholes with the boys— didn’t mind it when their hair drew up from the water. the Thomasville gym would be filled with them. The Coffeyville girls. Those girls were something else: part-boy the way they slung rocks and ducked just in time.64 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Even on Sunday The Thomasville girls.
O& S P O R T F O L I O LANE TIMOTHY .
At the age of 11 he sold his first painting and at the age of 21 he had his first sold out show. Lane’s nostalgic work is acquired by many well known collectors.lanetimothy. CA.com www.Lane Timothy www. Bonner David Galleries in Scottsdale. . and he finds one of his biggest challenges is keeping up with demand. Lane Timothy’s art is represented by Waterhouse Gallery in Santa Barbara. AZ and Peterson Cody Gallery in Santa Fe. MT.lanetimothyprints. Skywest Airlines and American Art Collector Magazine among others. and is a self taught artist. His work has been featured in numerous magazines. NM.com Lane Timothy grew up in Missoula. and his paintings have graced the covers of American Traveler.
My vintage figures are reminiscent of an earlier more innocent time. while my composition and color pallettes are very modern and contemporary.“I spend most of my time researching and daydreaming of stories I can tell through my work.” . I love the challenge of trying to marry both styles.
American Dreamer oil on canvas 48” x 60” .
Cadillac Blues oil on canvas 60” x 40” .
The Bare Necessities oil on canvas 60” x 48” .
Departure oil on canvas 60” x 48” .
Eye Of The Beholder oil on canvas 48” x 36” .
Solitude oil on canvas 48” x 36” .
Boys And Their Toys oil on canvas 48” x 60” .
Learning The Links oil on canvas 48” x 60” .
Eye Catching oil on canvas 36” x 48” .
My Girl oil on canvas 30” x 40” .
Patiently Waiting oil on canvas 36” x 24” .
Will She Say Yes oil on canvas 48” x 36” .
” I found myself caught up in thinking about the famous scene Roger Ebert took offense to. Jeffrey Beaumont. as we find out who might trade “Stomach for knuckle” or “‘L’ for ‘P’”.” from the book’s second of three sections. the collective “we” is traded for the first-person “I. Even though Ebert objects to Lynch’s alleged mishandling of Rossellini. and sadomasochism. ISBN-10: 1905700849. Later in the poem. Having fear of both death and breath situates the poet-speaker between life and death. Strange Trades. I end up with both— some morning in a classroom whisper.81 ORANGES & SARDINES STRANGE TRADES by Kristy Odelius REVIEW BY STEVE HALLE Shearsman Books.” and readers get a taste of what the poet-speaker has given up and received in return: I trade my fear of death for fear of breath and puzzled. Only another’s . readers discover the title’s “we” is a stand-in for poets or makers. 92 pages. In a way. 2008. kidnappings.” and this Tiresian situation/situating fuels many of the resonant poems in Odelius’s collection. in which Isabella Rossellini’s character Dorothy Vallens is dumped naked on Detective Williams’s lawn. Looking firstly at the poem from which the collection draws its title “We Make Strange Trades. straddles—the normal world of suburban Lumberton and the seedy underworld of gangsters. we’ll find out what we got. finds itself examining its terrain by straddling two worlds a la Lynch’s Beaumont in “Blue Velvet. an irremediable betweenness. this scene is crucial to the film because it brings together the disparate worlds the main character. his female lead. ISBN-13: 978-1905700844 Recently viewing David Lynch’s film “Blue Velvet. Kristy Odelius’s first full-length collection of poems.
walnut grove plantation. separates or prevents the bubbles’ attempt to connect life and death via the oval window or eye. / blowing sugar bubbles at that guy / in the snazzy black hood?” Again. with its cabin window. death and life are straddled. there. you hear?” Odelius offers a connection to Wallace Stevens.82 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S “classroom whisper” knows the trade’s outcome. from sinking. only this time its between Chicago’s wealthy. In the first part of the book. too. ars poetica” also echoes the situation of Robert Frost’s “Neither Out Far Nor in Deep”and Lucille Clifton’s use of the homophonic “hear” and “here” at the conclusion of her poem “at the cemetery. brings readers a sea of allusion: “On the dock. the shareholders and businessmen (its STRANGE TRADES BY KRISTY ODELIUS . south carolina. 1989.” This situation again puts the speaker between. // Underwater. leaving the speaker to call after the separated self or selves. The “oeil-de-boeuf” of an apartment above a cityscape precedes “window winks [of] a seadrowned cabin” later in the poem. faded gray paint / suggests “submerged rock”. then.”Again the speaker is not exactly of the virgins.” a five-poem series all sharing that title. “It’s curtains. you there. when it turns out to be here”). The “faded gray paint” failing to prevent the ship. mixing bubble blowing (breath) with the black-hooded man (death).” both allusions further complicating what’s being done in this poem. / sweating and wearing / gray aprons. setting speaker on the dock to connect with aforementioned location of speaker at window. The final stanza. ars poetica. The color gray reappears in “The Virgins of Chicago (3). “It’s curtains.’ They like welding. by reinventing the end of “Crude Foyer” (“At last. rising above them in an elevator only to later fly in a helicopter “an octave / below the shareholders. which presents the mythical virgins as tradespeople who “work nights at ‘Federal Screw / Products. The title’s curtain. The “faded gray paint” from “It’s curtains” also presents an important connection to betweenness running throughout Strange Trades.” the speaker has set us up for the fulcrum poem “We Make Strange Trades” by showing us a courting of death: “Is this why I stand at my oeil-de-boeuf. who she incessantly echoes and reinterprets. simultaneously there submerged and “here” on the dock.
” see “Dutch Graves in Bucks County”) as the imagination and truth.” among the “dunes. giving readers a both instead of an either/or. however.” the “Mojave landfill. In Lynch’s “Blue Velvet. real world.” and the suggestion is that we be “very predictable. past due” to stave off inevitability.” The past. in the best sense of that word. or singularly “What we see we think we see” get characterized in this poem and “wakes up and climbs the dunes” and “cloud-gazing” then “become[s] entranced by glare and a proper saint sighting. which offers resonant possibility through multiple readings. “the nostalgic green toy in the window. Odelius presents us with an eminently readable collection of poems. finds a resolution in the normal. a world of real weather. odd juxtapositions. the “real” and “inevitable.” the mystery of the opposing worlds is rectified. and its Sandburg-echoing. and prettiness. and Robert Desnos. or does it? In the final poem of the book “Ineffable Green Thing.” get eschewed for the struggle of betweenness. In Strange Trades. only to arrive at an idea of green. Trades can be made. past due.” Odelius infuses Strange Trades with the color red (her virgins are redheads. blue-collar workers. the thought that any or all of us can be “meaner.” Yet the weather is real. wordplay. Odelius entrenches herself in the lineage of poets that mingle attention to image and language with philosophy. STRANGE TRADES BY KRISTY ODELIUS . unresolved. Rosmarie Waldrop. but outcomes remain unsettled. big-shouldered.83 ORANGES & SARDINES mercantile traders). and Jeffrey Beaumont. Influenced heavily by Stevens. / meaner. Loved by All” the reader gets more Stevens (see “The Man on the Dump. Kristy Odelius does not provide readers an easy resolution. and her poems preserve mystery rather than offer ready-made answers. intimate with both. affects Odelius’s poem differently as “The past pages the horizon. for example). very translatable. upon first reading. sure. not red as in Stevens’s “Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock.” And the imagination and truth. Color finally gets the reader somewhere. Strange Trades both surprises and pleases with its melopoeia. which Stevens denies being part of the present.
com .Alex Rodriguez www.itsajackal.
sit down with my iPod. and patrick nagel. Two of them are best friends.” and if another best friend went to art school he’d be off the charts. But not that i’ve gone away from Miami. Born in Which artist/photographer do you admire or has had the biggest influence on your work? There are 2 famous artists that influence my art every time I draw.a’cause I think “if i actually stayed and worked hard in college. Cuba and raised in Miami. it’s amazing how nagel can convae shadows with lines. I’m always jealous when I look at one of my best friends’ work. Then when I lived in California. too many distractions. when I go back it’s become more of a place I get some of my ideas. i started thinking more abstract. and it was driving me insane. Which three other artists would you consider to be your contemporaries? Tony roman. I can’t draw at home. Alex currently resides in Seattle with his faithful flying squirrel Zoe. brian christopher. When I moved to Seattle it was like a flood gate. it’s all about the lines. How does your environment influence your work? Well. but that again is due to another friend.85 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Alex Rodriguez is a pizza slinger with delusions of grandeur. I’d be full of it if I said anyone famous. I wish I had it. Do you have a ritual or specific process you follow when creating art? My biggest ritual is going to a Q&A coffee shop. “the helga pictures” is my bible. I honestly feel like such a joke without it. Three guys I went to high school with. He’s a freelance artist. doing portraits of friends and clients. i’d be doing work as good as him. I don’t have a tv. Warcraft is my art’s biggest enemy. . Like Zoe. but I think that was more to do with the friend I was living with. he’s constantly flying from one place to another. although i think those three guys do some stuff that can go toe to toe with some of the poeple out there. Andrew Wyeth. and mike marsh. I’m hoping to go back to school in the near future. I’d be alot better. the thing i love about wyeth is how a body of work can be centered on one subject. How do you feel about formal training? I think formal training is great. but the computer is a vortex of time. I moved from Miamia’cause I was drawing less and less. quad mocca and sketch book and draw. for a bit. artists have “muses” but i have yet to see an artist that has done such an intimate portrait of a single subject like “the helga pictures”. My art also became more organic. he’s the foundation of my portraits.
photoshop 9” x 12” Alex Rodriguez . watercolor.00 ORANGES & SARDINES apnea pencil.
kayden pencil. photoshop 9” x 12” Alex Rodriguez . watercolor.
photoshop 6” x 7” .88 Alex Rodriguez ORANGES & SARDINES kelly mechanical pencil.
photoshop 14” x 14” . watercolor.89 Alex Rodriguez ORANGES & SARDINES jaz sneakerpimps pencil.
com. fiction and essays released in the United States. extends a unique body of work for melding ekphrasis with transcolonialism. Tabios Eileen R. Recipient of the Philippines’ National Book Award for Poetry.Eileen R. “The Blind Chatelaine’s Keys” at http://chatelainepoet. and a short story book. a poetry essay/ interview anthology. Nota Bene Eiswein (Ahadada. .com) from St. 2009). edits the popular poetry review journal “Galatea Resurrects” at http:// galatearesurrects. Tabios’ publications includes 16 poetry collections. blogspot. an art essay collection. Tabios also edited or co-edited five books of poetry. CA. her most recent poetry collection. She writes the poetics blog. Ms.com and steers Meritage Press (http:// meritagepress.blogspot. Helena.
“kittens with flue. an entire city blazing its lights through tall.”] I confess to being unable to empathize with Shakespeare’s appreciation of Titus Maccius Plautus: perhaps “greatest comic” is like “giant shrimp”? Eileen R. [They long had wished to arrive in the same bed.] Now I understand why some barkers call Oliver Stone un-American. [He said he tore up a skyscraper. [He wears a hat emblazoned with a yellow happy face. she summoned sufficient energy to fix him a martini as they stood in a stranger’s penthouse.91 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Roman Synopsis #5 I could be happy in Alphabet City. behind every leaf a stinger lurks. once more. Tabios . the soles on my feet recoiled but my smile never slipped. wide windows.] With an impassive face.] The fat dog is shedding hair on the sidewalk and observers are buffeted by the choice between focusing on its fur or its distended stomach. [It will be a familiar gesture. buildings crumbling around my notepad. the baby plays with his beard.] She shows him the run on her stocking.] When I stepped on pine cones. [I ripped a page in a beloved book of poetry and wondered whether the act was truly inadvertent. a yellow bud opens. the symbol for Local Government Official aka Tour Guide In Search Of Tips. but it was unexpected when it occurred. they say. [The kids have painted their noses yellow to mirror.] I heard the beat of wings during a migration. judging by the scuffs. [When you reach the edge of the Black Forest the glade moves away and. [In the rose bush.] Dangling from his chest. That’s why Billy serves hors d’ouevres. [Auden said you can’t write a poem about dropping a bomb. I reply before walking towards an open window framing a nude moon with an absolutely stunning belly. and fails to see how his eyes linger.] Once.
True love is never chaste. stunned. [By his face. even most momentarily. one can tell he’s about to deliver the boot. [The tears huddle around a bonfire.] He looks at me as if I had spoken my question. “But. from calling Oliver Stone ‘commercial’. ignored me—to this day his indifference leaves me breathless. that’s a far cry. [Consolation defined as the bat never reappeared]. She totters on ice despite thick ankles.] Billy is deaf but insists on serving hors d’ouevres. [The bicyclists steal because they have transportation.] Someone is insisting.92 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Roman Synopsis #7 I could be happy with your hand on my waist as you try to identify the scent hollowing my throat. Mother Jones.] It transcends the feminine gesture. [A poet finally looks up. Tabios .] He has a gaze like a mirror. Something nearby adds as he gropes himself for additional emphasis.] “Sulpicia. How nice.” [Whatever. [There is nothing like an infant tugging on a daddy’s white whiskers. my twin. [He has never placed his lips on my forehead.” [On every path a branch waits for your step. a Mr. wrote elegies in Latin that had been attributed to Tibullus.] Eileen R. another birth concluded. [Have you noticed how stuffed animals often look wise?] Roy.] Her lapis lazuli blouse evokes a Mediterranean summer and I think. a Roman woman writer.
placed within the interior of a room. a painting is successful if I wish I were there. For me. and well being.Karen Hollingsworth karenhollingsworth. with a glimpse of the ocean or mountains. To blend the common objects of everyday life.com “I love to create paintings that evoke a sense of the familiar. through an open window. A comfortable world bathed in sunlight and cool breezes from the sea. My ‘windowscapes’ are intended to provide the viewer with a sense of solitude.” .
my toaster. and make you change the way you see the world in just a moment. Her work can now be found in galleries across the US . I also try to spend some time each day meditating. But a strong image can impact your whole being. I had to turn my back on any training and let my heart choose what and how to paint. I say. played out in beautiful lines and colors. but as you can tell the ocean affects me greatly. Later. With a well known Atlanta Portrait artist. Selfishly. I ended up in science. then quick as you can. And of course chairs and tables. For many years she focused on portraiture and has several portrait awards to her credit. But at some point. I always loved to draw faces. including the view of oceans and mountains from the windows. has allowed her to combine her love of painting interiors. and then to be practical. I didn’t go back to art school till I was in my thirties. How do you bring emotion across to a flat surface? I think most of the power from a painting happens in the composition. and transforms ordinary things into the most beautiful things. Must there be a statement with each creation? Maybe. If you knew your time was up what would be the last image you would leave us with? Probably. Nancy Honea. it was a difficult time for artists interested in pursuing realism. I find the most incredible inspirations can happen during meditation. and I try to walk there every day weather permitting. learn how to handle the medium of your choice. and that training made a huge impact on my portrait work. as do all animals. and I see how the sunlight lands here and there. When I walk through my house. while concentrating on painting still life’s. which I did. and really have to force myself to travel. I’m mostly a homebody. so the last image I had in my head were all the details of their beautiful faces. with any instruction you can find. But it wasn’t till her mid thirties that she could devote herself fully to studying art. Most formal art programs discouraged realism in favor of other more contemporary styles. For me that is a combination of the story. the sky and land. follow your own style and passion. I have a beautiful park near my home. and decided to change my field of study completely. still life’s. or the way the treetops flow in the breeze. How does your environment influence your work? The biggest environmental influence on me is sunlight. So I have to travel to the ocean at least twice a year. I get inspired watching the clouds. as well as overall composition and technique. a degree in Nursing. and realism had started to make a comeback. The combination of painting rooms. I was disappointed with the focus of the art schools I had access to. Q&A How do you feel about formal training? When I graduated highschool in 1973 and wanted to study art. That way every painting stays interesting and exciting. landscapes and sometime’s even birds into one painting. not necessarily a statement that you can put in words. and decided to focus on studying Portraiture. she has been intrigued with painting room interiors and windowscapes.94 ORANGES & SARDINES Karen Hollingsworth knew from a young age that she wanted to be an artist. or narrative. she suddenly decided to add a chair into the composition and from that day on. . a pair of jeans on the floor. a portrait of my husband and my cats.
Karen Hollingsworth Deep Breathing oil on canvas 36” x 48” .
Karen Hollingsworth Overcast oil on canvas 40” x 40” .
Karen Hollingsworth Symmetrical oil on canvas 40” x 40” .
98 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Karen Hollingsworth Annie’s Place oil on canvas 36” x 60” .
Weave. where he earned his MA in Writing from Portland State University. and Quarter After Eight. Willow Springs. In Posse Review.com. Juked. He is a regular blogger for Fringe Magazine. Taiga. New York Quarterly. theimaginedfield. His poems appear or are forthcoming in Exquisite Corpse. RealPoetik.Sean Patrick Hill Sean Patrick Hill is a freelance writer in Portland. Oregon. . diode.blogspot. Copper Nickel.
Sean Patrick Hilll . To sock puppets stuffed with dirt. The bombers had sights with crosshairs strung with such vicious gossamer. We had no idea that kid was in the barn. One afternoon is enough to know why black widows prefer outhouses. To rusted floats. To horses blind as Homer. To hymns written on sandpaper.100 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S When This Rose Parade Burns maybe then you’ll stumble on an undying understanding of why the Panhandle hung on to its cherry trees. Break a widow’s web. Ask the pilots and they’ll tell you. To its mortgaged plows. carrying so much spoiled milk. it tinkles like glass.
I’m sure— the self tires of itself. To desire to map at all. Snow allowed to scatter allows everyone to sleep in the barn at night. What is significant enough to tie the map in place. fulcrum and task. Survey markers nailed to crucifixes. the way a drift fence can only view the world askance.101 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S When This Drift Fence Burns no need to hold the weather to its lines. You are right. the doors unhinged. Without roads or open range. Sean Patrick Hilll . Spindle and lathe. What drove cartographers to the rotten bottle.
his familiarity with the human figure. and while other elder artists have settled to concentrate on successful subject matter as their careers advance.’ Marcel Proust (1871 – 1922) Wade Reynolds has been painting from life for over a half century. his dramatic figurative art as well as his subtly glowing still lifes and his images from intimate gardens to vistas of water in nature. In Figure as Landscape 1 the male model is viewed from behind. Long respected for his portraiture of famous and ordinary people. Reynolds seems determined to visually inspect the world until even the most microscopic elements of what his eyes encounter are described in light and color. Similarly in No. interaction with props . the upper portion of the flank and the buttocks resemble those glimpses of mountaintops as the sun rises.102 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S A Different Vantage: Wade Reynolds and The Figure As Landscape Review By GRADY HARP ‘Only through art can we get outside of ourselves and know another’s universe which is not the same as ours and see landscapes which otherwise have remained unknown to us like the landscapes of the moon. instead of seeing a single world. Thanks to art. meticulously recreated with his deft sense of structure.and instead discovered a manner of plinth or support for the figure that suspends the need for focusing on any surface except the molded configuration of the body as a receptor and reflector or absorber of light. both male and female.’ For Reynolds. expressions. Wade Reynolds elected to devote a period of time during this century to wed his experiences of observation in a series of ten paintings collectively called The Figure as Landscape. Henri Matisse said ‘What interests me most is neither still life nor landscape. so rich in specific details. and his view of the natural world offered the opportunity to redefine how we look at the nude figure. our own. Selecting ten models. but the human figure. faces. he succeeded in subtracting those elements of Figure as Landscape 1 the figure that invite the viewer into the personality of the model –eyes. 2 only half the female form reflects the light source while the remainder of the ‘body’becomes the . It is through it that I best succeed in expressing the almost religious feeling I have towards life. composition and the effects that light absorbed or reflected define. we see it multiply until we have before us as many worlds as there are original artists.
Figure as Landscape 2
Figure as Landscape 3
Figure as Landscape 6
incidental features of the
surrounding landscape. In
No. 3 Reynolds has included
glimpses of the personal
aspects of the male model
but only in the sheer curtain of
shadow as a passing cloud
might obscure. Similar uses of
body form in Nos. 4 and 5
allow Reynolds to spread light
and shadow as on a range of
hills, while in Nos. 6 and 7 he
pulls our attention to the
ground surface, finding
perspective and incidental
configurations of more
complexity – still defined
solely by light and shade. We
do not see these models as
individuals: we see them as
‘bodyscapes’ or landscapes.
The final three
paintings in this luminous
series, Nos. 8, 9, and 10, seem
to be pulling Reynolds’
attention back to the figure
as a figure, or more acutely
involving the viewer’s eye as
a return to the reality of the
model while still projecting the
the nude figure
as being at one
begin to see
folds in the
covering of the
plinths as well
such as the
breast, the ear,
the axilla –now
doorways returning to the
figure as figure. The body is
becoming a mirror of the
landscape as the light and
shadows define it.
Reynolds is not the first artist
to repeatedly paint a subject
until the possibilities of
variation seem exhausted
(think Monet’s water lilies,
Thiebaud’s San Francisco
streets), but there are few
artists who at the peak of
their careers celebrate the
simple basics of their craft –
light and dark and the spatial
relations they create –with
the skill and sense of
discovery as we see in this
series The Figure as
‘Only in men’s
imagination does every truth
find an effective and
Imagination, not invention, is
the supreme master of art as
of life.’ Joseph Conrad (1857
Figure as Landscape 9
Jane Varley has published
poems and reviews in
literary magazines, and
she is the author of a
memoir, Flood Stage and
Rising, published by the
University of Nebraska
Press. She has a Ph.D. in
poetry and creative
writing from the
University of North
Dakota, and she is an
associate professor and
coordinator of creative
writing at Muskingum
College in Ohio.
Her travels to Iceland
have inspired her to write
poetry again after a few
years’ hiatus. “I find that
northern climates give me
clear thinking and acute
perceptions of what it
feels like to be alive on
105 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S
In the night before, fear comes, that old bed visitor.
You sweat through insomnia—you can feel movement
of blood inside your body, and your parts feel out of place.
Is that your heart beating in your throat?
There is the suitcase you worked on.
Clothes that can be layered, imagined in weather and culture.
You have the essential pair of carefully selected shoes.
The shoes. Pressure point of body against earth,
sturdy, long-range. Black is the color,
black volcanic rocks, black as the imagined place you go
when you think you can disappear.
plywood and particle board. Some are expensive. bobhouses wheeled across the lake. like that one that fell through. invite me in! At twenty below I see you snow tracking over the frosty road to a private city of shanties. a palace of the deep. and feed the lines into darkness with no fear of what happens in the underworld.106 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S The Ice Fishermen I love the fish houses. tarp-draped and hammered. You hinge your doors on wooden floors and auger holes into the ice-ceiling. Oh Fishermen. I can picture the interior. I’d like to try this business of dropping hope into the shiny waters to see what comes back through the perfect circle. Silvery shapes flash at the bottom like the sharp sudden lightning of a dream. made from good wood or metal. Jane Varley . Fix your hooks with smelt and minnow.
in front of the window at home where I cried for beauty and the freezing wind cut through the aged window pane. Line by line I pronounced “The Idea of Order at Key West. I searched for the ones with the gold and white. thick plastic with a bit of luster. That winter I chewed sunflower seeds and worked a jigsaw puzzle of a landscape scene. stretched and blurring. no poetry in my voice but a wishful thought for the poetry of sitting alone. Winter deepened and we hung plastic over the windows to keep the outside out and inside in. I recited Stevens to no dramatic effect. all those dusky pieces that seemed alike. making abstract and interesting the looks of the world.107 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Beautiful Arrangements One misty afternoon in November in a basement office on campus.” words I had filed like exact and obedient soldiers of fortune. all the poetry lost in my rote repetition. to make the dogwood tree and mustardcolored weeds. Jane Varley . the easy ones.
Be the dog. hard on the uphill. Be with the dog in the bright field by the river. Sweat. partner of my body. all that I crave? My greed. Run to my companion. flesh and bone. ride my bike in the mountains.108 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Greed I want to play basketball and golf. Stretch and strip to my bare human flesh and become unmuscled. fast going down. Do you know. Eat grass and lie in the sun. Walk the dog. with you. Frolic. lover. Paw the tiled floor. bone to bone and flesh. I live inside this body. I want to cut grass and weed the garden. To find evidence of love in us. lax. Jane Varley .
snow. urging me on. standing still with a whole world of young mountains. arctic terns angling the sky. the sea not broken into shape or song. and sky. The river. Why do the gods in our hearts do this? Bring us out and turn us free? Rattling around. inspect the gray-white layering of water. even further. As the bells of Akureyri close down the afternoon. It is a daguerreotype of the mind. I can hear them inside laughing. we drive on. crossing the shallow fjord to the village where a furnace takes in damp rectangles of peat. mountain. mismatching our lives.109 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S The Bells of Akureyri No one will find me here. I will go and sit by the river. Jane Varley .
and the stage is given up to Ammons to carry us through to the end.[it is] sad. dancing. sequestered. a sound that celebrates hard times. Rather. her qualities as a human being.” Ammons speaks to themes familiar to her back-country upbringing –the community. forlorn. In the section “Ain’t No Shame.” Finney is accurate. walking.”written by the poet Nikky Finney. the family. and her skill as a poet. And it is this preface that acts like a grand soliloquy – it sets the stage for us to know her past. Ammons’ poetry is the “high un-lonesome. She takes on the wealthy and . depressed. 2008 Reviews By MICHAEL PARKER MATCHING SKIN by Shirlette Ammons (Carolina Wren Press. it is a “sorrow song that sizzles out of the tops of long leaf and yellow pine. is also Shirlette Ammons sophomore book of poems. Specifically. Matching Skin is an absorbing collection patched together in four parts. Finney seems to explain. spoken and sung. Finney first describes the “high lonesome.” which is a back-country “twanging guttural octave” type song.” And perhaps at its core. Introducing Matching Skin is the gloriously written preface “The High Un-Lonesome of Shirlette Ammons. and the razor-sharp edge between the old ways of living and the new. with the vibrancy of today and the echoes of her heritage. [etc. and sometimes running for their lives.” which consists of impressions such as secure. I immediately realized what a pity it all was -.]” Ammons is not the “high lonesome. goodbad love. forsaken.. exits. maudlin. reclusive. 2008) Matching Skin. estranged. emotionally-trenched. it establishes a measurement for what we can expect when Finney closes her remarks. exist the still fresh footprints of history – “you hear the smooth slide of African feet. I had never heard of Ammons until receiving it from Carolina Wren Press.that I missed out on the vibrant voice and the intriguing stories surely present in that debut. without shoe the first.” you ask? Well.. You hear harmonica solos and the irregular meter of holiness praise houses. one of this year’s most fascinating book titles.. and tethered. What is the “high un-lonesome. More significantly.110 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S A Collection Of Favorites. We are entreated with narrative and song.” Finney unabashedly explains.
Amiri Baraka. don’t-ya-pity me.” In other words.” “Tattooed Smile. witty. interpreting the stories and visions she experiences on the “back roads” and “hurricanes”of life until there are no roads or hurricanes left to interpret. and the simple country folk. I felt an empowerment in her narrative voice as powerful as a hurricane and a self-assuredness the width of the Bible Belt States. It’s the heart of the entire CD. the poor. Her language is the type you might hear in the streets.” “Juju Man. fully fleshed-out. Ammons is going to be a driving force in the weave of American poetry. I joyed in her vocal abilities. But for someone like me. I cannot stop listening. street-smarts. the messages woven throughout this John Anonymous (both on page on in music) resonate with me profoundly.” and “John Anonymous. In all. rap-star. and even an astoundingly witty “Do the Funny”for Dave Chappelle. homes. spunky. Long before I placed the CD “John Anonymous” in the CD player. Grace Palley. singing and rapping with such soul poured into the music enraptured me. The male bass vocalist for “Ain’t it (A Shame)” transforms Ammons poem into a classic black spiritual. and back-country fields and forests of the middle-class. It’s a pleasure to introduce my favorite list of 2008 with Matching Skin A Collection Of Favorites. churches. They are full of various rhythms with beats and soaring melodies. 2008 . Adjectives that came to mind as I experienced Ammons’ poetry: self-assured. and commanding. prophetess. wise. singing in the melody of reality and veins of hope needed to make it to the end of hard times.” were joyful experiences.” “Looking Glass. who has never yet had the opportunity to see or listen to Shirlette Ammons perform her work. article. especially in regards to describing characteristics. I read the poetry section of the same title with the greatest passion. Matching Skin ends with the section “John Anonymous. powerhouse. clever. Reading the poems “Ain’t it (A Shame). and the concluding song on that CD. It also is the title to the accompanying CD included with the book. There is yet another accolade paid by Finney to Shirlette Ammons that I not only echo but I magnify it to the level of celebration: “[Ammons is] a young poet intent on rolling hard on the back roads until the road ends or something new begins or the hurricane hits. I wrote earlier about Finney setting the stage for us.111 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S the bourgeois. Also within Matching Skin are poems penned to many of the greats we sense have been mentors to Ammons: Gwendolyn Brooks. bra-burning feminist. I cannot stop hearing them and aching for them when that need to touch that innersoul strikes. In fact.” It’s a title rich with meaning and could be the theme of an extraordinary. speak-it-how-it-is.
Campbell’s poetry A Collection Of Favorites. the sadness to be drawn out of the shadows.. In Hesitant Commitments. when I read Jack Gilbert’s poetry and his thoughts here on the raw intentions of poetry. 2006) In his poem “Beyond Pleasure. To have within one’s skill the thoughtful. Campbell courageously turns inward to interpret for us the images of the lost lovers and meaningful affairs of yesteryear (and the affairs not so meaningful but needed in order to soothe the ache of loneliness. gentle awareness of the minute “parts” of the vast whole. And in all of these moments of significant connection. Tremble (Rose of Sharon Press./to give us time to see each thing separate and enough. Refusing Heaven.” “redemption”.” from his National Book Critics Circle Awardwinning collection of poetry. 2008 . In Campbell’s poetry exist narratives that embody these raw intentions. by Pris Campbell and Tammy F. What is it to “see each thing separate and enough”? Simple. and New Zealand. Rome. the European continent. Because Campbell suffers from the debilitating disorder CFIDS. their expressions (intentionally displayed or not intentionally). I always turn to the poetry of Pris Campbell. being at the “last blink of innocence”./ The poem chooses part of our endless flowing forward/to know its merit with attention.112 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S HESITANT COMMITMENTS by Pris Campbell (Lummox Press. Hesitant Commitments is a significant work. whether it be physically reading their movements.” Undoubtedly. Campbell reveals her heart – that she was always searching for “paradise. and to “see the face/ of her true love reflected in the one panting/ above. or their simple (sexual) and complicated (conjoining of hearts) relationships. where her loves are Odysseus and she is Cleopatra. Some might considerthis brave. Jack Gilbert describes the worth of good poetry: “Poetry fishes us to find a world part by part.. Campbell has an amazing insight when it comes to seeing the “whole” of the human experience – the aptitude she has for interpreting the human. London. as Campbell describes them. Campbell takes us on journey’s to the romantic Greek Isles. “black holes”). Paris. or. 2008) INTERCHANGEABLE GODDESSES.
Robinson. With this in mind. But Campbell gives us amazing stories and images seemingly right out of the mind of Mrs. In this collection. and also my heartstrings. Whether she is writing about her visit with Eleanor Roosevelt. 2007) Robert Hass is a noted translator and teacher at the University of California at Berkeley. Because she is the one in control! And neither does Hesitant Commitments feel like an elegy or funeral pyre. Campbell writes these in the tone of celebration. and life. I introduce to you Time & Materials. dynamic enough to enrapture me. this skill comes easy because she knows the intricacies of life and the important lasting impressions of connecting. a soul whose passion.113 ORANGES & SARDINES could easily wallow in the more maudlin. Campbell is engrossing – how she masterfully develops a fully-breathing depiction of a person. or the old woman across the street dancing alone in the night. It is not an uncommon trait for editors and publishers to seek out poetry and voices that challenge them. capture my attention. or otherwise – work that has the feeling of now written all over it. Campbell’s insights hint toward a wise and humane soul who’s forever opening doors for us to walk through. romantic notions of aging with grace. For Campbell. longing. Time & Materials is winner of the National Book Award of 2007 and the Pulitzer Prize in Poetry 2008. Again. motherhood. We are very fortunate to have her beautiful narrative voice and poetics becoming recognized. TIME & MATERIALS by Robert Hass (HarperCollins. The joint chapbook “Interchangeable Goddesses”by Pris Cambell and Tammy Trendle also became a beloved collection after listening to The Jane Crow Show interview in June (2008). thematically. I stress how adept her skill at depicting the human condition so keenly and thoughtfully. the first collection from the A Collection Of Favorites. marriage. love. But if I might focus on Campbell again. Campbell has the gift of sentience and the understanding of human behavior that equates with knowing the “endless flowing forward” of life. the ravaging effect of CFIDS. Echoing Gilbert again. the ghosts of her dead soldier brother. Her work really shines and warms. 2008 . the memories of lovers of year’s past. His latest work. He served as poet laureate for two years in the mid-’90s. both poets poignantly address themes of womanhood. and sex-drive is at its peak and not willing to let the reins of time pull or control her. structurally.
on Hass’ masterful skill at writing about anything.” Hass hints about enchantment in poetry: “It is good sometimes for poetry to disenchant us. there are two ways of saying this -. nothing more than enchanting to experience.. 2008 . JEFFREY BROWN: So much of your work is about trying to examine or A Collection Of Favorites. you are thinking. ROBERT HASS: Yes. Hass’ narrative poetics can appear at first glance so nondescript and unchallenging that the unseasoned or impatient reader may not venture in. For this astutely. But I will say that the need to be enchanted seems to come from the mind of an amateur. his penchant to take the seemingly mundane conversation.” which I don’t think is quite true. or scene and treat it with such poetic skill is.” What does he mean by this? Is he speaking of subject matter or structure? And what about the art of “enchanting” or being challenging? Does poetry have to enchant us to be relevant? It is not my intent to answer these questions in this review. I mean. it dawns on you that you just -we don’t have a language for what would be the experience of a tree or. Consider Hass’interview with PBS. for that matter. at some point. where. some of Hass’objects for his poems are of the I-see-them-daily variety: the dawn. And the other is to say what Ed Wilson. which is that every species lives in its own sensory world and.org after receiving the Pulitzer Prize. a fox or a robin.. language philosophy in the early 20th century. After all. But let me expound. It’s like sitting in tutelage of a master at work at his most brilliant. a field mouse. Because possibly it sheds light on the nature of the poet. and the color red. the environmentalist and entomologist. undoubtedly. the interior of a house. event. if you would allow me.114 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S esteemed Robert Hass in nearly a decade. biogeographer said. in which Hass defended the importance of writing about “anything”: JEFFREY BROWN: By implication. a tree. So. even a tree. I say this holding as evidence Hass’ collection. birds. there are limits to say anything. In “The Problem of Describing Trees. masterful Time & Materials.or there are a million ways of saying this. One way is to say what Wittgenstein said. though I’ve been thinking about them for weeks. “The limits of my language are the limits of my world. it is true. Hardly enchanting. the eating of cucumbers. the desire to enchant is his furthest intent.
I came to understand about him. what is it in words?” I came to understand about him that he’d lost so much that he felt like everything he didn’t get down -. and he was born in Lithuania in 1911. he raises themes that analyze art. But what I am not sure I understand -. And he lived through much of the worst violence of the 20th century in Europe.. and as close as the forests of the High Sierras and the California coast line.. And I think I can understand the problem of finding the right words or any words. if art doesn’t somehow preserve our memory of the gift of life on Earth we’ve lost.” well that is their prerogative. But I can attest that within Time & Materials are ruminations on various images and themes that are fleshed out concisely. “Reality. ROBERT HASS: . great poet.. the border of North & South Korea. He had this sense that. Czeslaw Milosz. One of his poems begins.. He lost so much that I know -..115 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S describe things like that. life.. And in these locations. who. JEFFREY BROWN: Great poet. Mexico. nothingness won. Hass introduces us to expansive landscapes or solitary landmarks or object (familiar and unfamiliar) in locations as far away as Berlin. So there you have the purpose of writing about the mundane and unenchanting – “to preserve our memory of the gift of life. so something like that.if he didn’t get it down. you know? JEFFREY BROWN: If he didn’t get it down into a poem. and Thailand.is.and maybe this is what distinguishes poets from the rest of us -. war. man’s inhumanity.” If anyone dare look upon Hass’ work and call it droll narrative or “nothingness. expressively and with language that is a treasure. nature. and A Collection Of Favorites. Specifically. nothingness won. 2008 . ROBERT HASS: Yes. why the need to describe trees? What is the burden on you that you must come up with a way to describe the world? ROBERT HASS: My mind goes straight to my dear friend and mentor.
” the grandmother rubbing his sister’s neck so hard with a washcloth that she draws blood. 2008) The word “please” is employed to enhance or soften the sincerest of requests. 2008 . reply with allowance or acceptance.116 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S relationships. lust. trying to escape: If they ever heard of slavery. heart and reputation is seen weighing down its back. violence.” “the braided belt.” This mission statement hardly could be considered by a poet not in full understanding of his craft and the importance of the art. there are images of abuses and the innerbattle for self-acceptance: “father’s leather belt. or for understanding. * PBS interview can be read in its entirety at http://www. Hass’aim to get the whole man.org/newshour/bb/entertainment/jan-june08/ poetry_04-30. “Please”. From the poem “Pause. the narrator feeling as vulnerable as an “open field. when spoken. In the sections Repeat and Pause. In truth. as the narrator. “please. empowerment. life has been a long song full of dichotomy: abuse. the sleeve to this timeless collection adds an exemplary quote from the New York Times Book Review that evokes my exact sentiments: “It has always been Mr. love. and in some regard. consider it. the work song – the best music A Collection Of Favorites.pbs. It’s upon these thoughts that I introduce Jericho Brown’s stunning and passionate collection “Please. is called forth with a cold-cocked and drawn out desperation for assistance. To Brown. for consideration. relationship.” to name a few.html PLEASE by Jericho Brown (Western Michigan University.” is an expression offered with emotional gravity –that the hearer will understand the offering. longing. As a final note. fulfillment. clarity and selfacceptance. head and heart and hands and everything else. into his poetry.” we get a sense of Brown. It’s the song of a not-so-easy family life and the realization of his sexual orientation.”a work of poetry that at its core are pieces of Brown’s life narrative that he offers to the reader on the outreached palms of his hands. confusion.
the mark of the beast. the singer seeks an exit from the scarred body and opens his mouth trying to get out. Nor the closest extension Cord. God. holding nothing tightly Against me and not wrapped In leather. a hand that took No thought of its target Like hail from a blind sky. Bring back to life the son Who glories in the sin Of immediacy. I bear the bridge Of what might have been A broken nose. not the pear tree Switch.117 ORANGES & SARDINES is made of substraction. Bless The boy who believes His best beatings lack Intention. but brutal In its bruising.” Not the palm. I lift to you What was a busted lip. Make full this dimpled cheek Unworthy of its unfisted print And forgive my forgetting The love of a hand Hungry for reflex. but God. Father. save the man whose arm Like an angel’s invisible wing A Collection Of Favorites. Involuntary. calling it love. His desire to transcend this past is most apparent in “Prayer of the Backhanded. not his braided belt. eliminated the air Between itself and my cheek. 2008 . not the broomstick. Bless the back of my daddy’s hand Which. fast.
. A Collection Of Favorites. but for Rumble’s unique repetition of phrases and his syntax. the city of contrasts: houses the federal government. explained that the writer is “someone who pays attention to the world. and musicals of yesteryear making up oxygen of their atmosphere. with the eye of an insider. In the last section of the book. “Please”is a very courageous work. two last points: 1) Brown’s poetics throughout “Please”are as finetuned as a professional. drugs. vocalists. Natalie Cole. 1995). Janis Joplin. Diana Ross. And 2) I appreciate poetry that crosses the border of surface emotions and gives us poetry that exhibits emotional depth. KEY BRIDGE by Ken Rumble (Carolina Wren Press. Brown’s poetry is written with songs. which helps accentuate the narrator’s internal conflict with the subject matter at hand. Key Bridge captures.” It’s in these poems in which Brown’s poems are most powerful and passionate. 2008 . death. family-life. welcomes millions of tourists. street-life. and yet has continually through the years struggled with high poverty rates. probably one of the most courageous in my memory. and growing up in Washington.C. as the backdrop and symbol around a collection of date-titled poems that address themes of race. But not only do I love Key Bridge for its poetics.C. despite the effects.” Sontag’s remark comes to mind when I consider my review of Ken Rumble’s Key Bridge. D. sex. Rumble uses the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Washington. and sincerity. integrity. in “The Art of Fiction” interview published in The Paris Review (Issue 137. 2007) Susan Sontag. Power. the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz.118 ORANGES & SARDINES May fly backward in fury Whether or not his son stands near. But these are not so much tributes as they are realizations that Brown and his lovers are the representations of these singers as they grope and spread and climb and join and “give in to [the] mouth/tongue and not bite. and Danny Hathaway. In closing. D. Help me hold in place my blazing jaw As I think to say excuse me. Luther Vandross. Experiences are enhanced with the sounds of Minnie Ripperton. all of beauty and ugliness of his experience with the city.
And I determined that Davis’ work would have to meet two criteria: 1) the content within these poems could not in any manner deflect. Upon opening the book. starts something else but forgets what. Hitler’s mustache pulls strings for certain elevators. Nor 2) could the collection. Hitler’s mustache does not believe in peace.. and genocide of Jews during the dominance of Nazi Germany. A sampling of titles looks like this: Hitler’s Mustache: The Mustache is a riddle. or lesson the severe gravity of the horrors.. ripcords for certain threads.. . does not respect university professors. inhumanity. killing Jews. triggers for certain bullets.” Any student of this historical period would catch the correlation of these characteristics with the early days of the Nazi Party in pre-holocaust Germany. among the first names that will surge to mind will be that of a fanatic with a mustache.turns up its nose. as if it were an intentional choice to never mention the name again. I quickly noticed Davis’ callout to Elie Wiesel’s quote: “But when later we evoke the 20th century. has contempt for the law. cables for certain women. . levers for certain pulleys. 2008 . zippers for certain ovens. there are 76+ poems that all begin with the phrase “Hitler’s Mustache:”. be an apologist of Hitler’s nature and actions.” In all.. two disparate thoughts came to mind: the audacity and how ingenious. All the while. loses track of it.” And I immediately gloried that Davis chose a quote in which the name Hitler wasn’t even used. the contrary was the case.. Davis’work is every much a hilarious fixation on the square mustache in general as it is social commentary on the utter absurdity of everything Hitler/Nazi and everyone Nazi/Hitler. moves on to something else.. Davis continues: “Hitler’s mustache begins something... And Hitler’s Mustache never failed the criteria I set forth. atrocities. latches for certain trapdoors. ridicule. brutality.” “Hitler’s mustache is a cancer. And Davis clearly spotlights this in the very opening poem: “Hitler’s Mustache: The List of Facts. in any manner.119 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S HITLER’S MUSTACHE by Peter Davis When I first saw Peter Davis’ book Hitler’s Mustache. In fact.. except it can’t be answered A Collection Of Favorites.
one dome of flesh grows. The.. and the fecal-impacted colons of German mystics. You know things you wouldn’t tell the police. all dreaming of super-humans. “Well.mustache says “What’s this? I’m not a cannibal!” And the bartender says. Their wounds swell with infection. I”m leaving you with these sections of poems. All the clawed Fascists are ashamed to seek medical attention. 2008 .... you look like a mustache to me. I think of dead soldiers tying neckties with pinky fingers. can I have a drink made of something other than boredom?” The bartender gives him a drink made of mustache. (From “Hitler’s Mustache: Mustache Begins in Martin’s Ferry. in the middle years of the twentieth century. pussing to be healed. [A] mustache says to the bartender. “I’m bored. 1 “You are aware of the fur trade and the killing of animals.120 ORANGES & SARDINES Hitler’s Mustache: The Punk Band Hitler’s Mustache:Of All the Possible Face Fur Hitler’s Mustache: The Short Story Hitler’s Mustache: The Basic Situation of the Clandestine Mustache And to prove my point that Davis ingeniously uses this form of satire to scrutinize Hitler. Mustachio”) 3 . Therefore. and the shriveled faces in mass graves that are not discovered. and one upper lip tussles wildly with the fur latch on this small.” (From “Hitler’s Mustache: The Basic Situation of the Clandestine Mustache”) 2 In the Mustache Museum of untrue truth.” A Collection Of Favorites. black trapdoor..
This collection. is more intimate and vital: it is like a heartbeat.” and “furiously good fun. SOME by Douglas Kearney (Red Hen Press.. the sacred act and the shared meal. Poetry can read like a great river..” “amazing.” “surprising. and the sexual connection. July 2008. and the magic and the miracle. and even the spoken word of Unraveling the Bed. 2008 . (From “Hitler’s Mustache: The Jokes”) Davis employs a wide range of poetic structures to build this truly incredible narrative about the most controversial mustache in the history of the world. stories. Leonin specifically highlights desire.” and “innovative. Mia Leonin tackles the highly arduous task of interpreting love. the hunger and longing. the first collection from the Cuban-American poet. . Douglas Kearney’s writing is an explosively energetic and hypnotic style that mixes moments of self-examination and societal analysis in a flight of words. What’s the difference between a mustache and a black hole? A black hole isn’t attached to your face and growing from your face pores..” “historically relevant. 2008) Reviewed by Michael Parker in the Cuban-American issue of MiPoesias. In the poems.” “poignant. and love as the brilliant chameleon set against the fierce play of love – the joy and peace. longing.. The poet Nin Andrews called Hitler’s Mustache “refreshing.. love as the religious experience. 2006) Reviewed by Michael Parket in the first issue of Oranges & Sardines. Under the auspices of love. screams. on the other hand.” UNRAVELING THE BED by Mia Leonin (Ahinga Press. A Collection Of Favorites. Here is a joyous collection! And here is an impressive poet whose star just may be rising into a more prominent space of sky. FEAR.121 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S .” I might add: “undeniably memorable. March 2008. She also stunningly analyzes sub-themes such as love as service..
and vision of the future never crosses emotional or sentimental lines. 2008) The last Franz Wright collection. not ever comfortable with who it is or what it wants to be.” a extraneous work that addresses his muses. His references to and reflection of the past. And they resonate in me – knocking wildly around the rafters of this heart! GOD’S SILENCE by Franz Wright (Knopf. in flux.are the same themes beating in Senator Barak Obama’s magnificent speech on race relations in America in February 2008. Discovering Kearney at this time seemed fate. and that reverberate in any human with a heart. won him the A Collection Of Favorites. Yes. for our time. his voice doesn’t preach. Kearney walks with his past as if he’s walking with a wise mentor. or heritage past. 2008 . especially those speaking to race-related issues . as many of his themes. Kearney’s work is a storm of reckoning and awakening. idea of the now. Some is a collection of vibrant verse that is as much performance art (a one-man play) as it is a work of immense historical significance on the past and upon the time we breathe in. At its backbone are the dreams of the courageous.the strokes of the heart beating behind his words . Kearney interrupts his work with a seeming plea to break down the walls of hatred and racism. In this. It’s straight-forward – this is how it was and what it is. Yet. and the activists that are ever prescient. the dreamers. societal. Like Peter Pan’s shadow being stitched to the sole of his foot. and the sheer idiocy of how the black performer was treated. we see the brutal ugliness of our treatment of others. timeless. Near the middle of Kearney’s extraordinary poem “The Poet Writes the poem that will certainly make him famous.122 ORANGES & SARDINES and apparent songs. gleaning what needs to be gleaned. the multifarious abuses on the black man. then interpreting it for us. But underlying this are the echoes of the dreams of the greats of past and present. One can never divorce themself from their personal. our past is stitched into our soul. Fear. and how it will be –based off of a predictable causal framework. familial. It’s part call-down-heaven’s-power Sunday sermon and part shake-the-foundations-of-the-earth gospel hymn. Kearney’s poetry depicts a society always at diverging tides. the slave trade. Walking to Martha’s Vineyard. linger awhile in these poems and you sense you aren’t reading Kearney as much as sensing he’s performing a full-cast play somewhere behind the text.
I have selected God’s Silence by Franz Wright as my favorite poetry work of the year. We search for and write about the strings that connect us . as proved in the line: “Proved faithless. To me.M. and addiction at other moments.no man knows my story. he counteracts this with poems and insights full of hope. but analyzes it on the spiritual plane of the human soul connecting with God. the themes. and then being courageous to even express his own struggle with doubt. that haunts me while falling into dreams. and realistically. You’ve reached me. personal trials. God’s Silence is his first publication since that award. despair. faith. You’ve captured me. being selfdeprecating another moment. the seemingly loud silence from the God he seems so intent on hearing.” Though Wright wrestles with the demons of doubt and physical trials. This theme is most evident in the jarring reality behind his own revelation: “I have heard God’s silence like the sun. 2008 . Rilke and shows he is the voice that can circle around the concept of God and do it convincingly. but Wright’s poetry followed me into my dreams and rattled around in the back of my head in my days. still I wait. * If you released a collection/chapbook last year and your publisher didn’t send me a copy. a singular sense that we are absolutely alone . and even redemption – structured under Wright’s compassionate perspective – transcends the tide of genre-like religious poetry. That was in 2003. Rising from the pages of God’s Silence are the refrains of a haunted soul trying to come to terms with all of the contradictions of his faith. In all. God’s Silence is a collection that tackles this very internal conflict of having connection. And this conflict of believing arises in part to the estrangement that we feel from God. and more poignantly. A Collection Of Favorites.” I adore poetry that resonates in me long after I shut the book and walk away. This is effect many of the works on this list had on me. Franz Wright steps onto the same plane as R. the continual search for meaning. get in contact with me either through O&S or personally. So we write for understanding. my sorrow. One of the primary conflicts in literature and poetry is loneliness.that universal connection that means that no matter my experience and no matter your experience. sincerely.123 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S Pulitzer Prize. This is the core of Franz Wright’s work and it breathes with mystical manifestations of faith and adoration at one moment. because of the silence. I understand you.
“I seek qualities of repose, balance and visual harmony in my
compositions. These delicate and elusive traits could never be
achieved without a dedication to depicting each situation’s
unique and distinctive quality of light.”
Rachel Constantine was born
in Philadelphia in 1973. She
discovered her passion for portraiture
early on, and the desire for academic
figurative training would lead her on
an adventure that would culminate
in 2003 with a certificate in Painting
from the Pennsylvania Academy of
the Fine Arts, where she graduated
with honors. Since then, she has
participated in 20 exhibitions, won
three awards from the Woodmere Art
Museum in Pennsylvania and another
from Allied Artists of America in
New York City.
In 2006, Rachel was invited to exhibit
in Artworks Gallery at the
Philadelphia Museum of Art as the
local compliment to the Museum’s
blockbuster exhibition: ‘Andrew
Wyeth: Memory and Magic’. Her
work can be found in The Vivian O.
and Meyer P. Potamkin Collection in
the Pennsylvania Academy of the
Fine Arts, and is featured in the new
hard-cover illustrated book Alla
Prima: A Contemporary Guide to
Traditional Direct Painting, written
by Al Gury, the chairman of the
Pennsyvania Academy’s painting
Photography by Denise Guerin
ORANGES & SARDINES
Which artist/photographer do you admire or has had
the biggest influence on your work?
The painters whose works have inspired me most are
undeniably John Singer Sargent and Cecilia Beaux.
Books of their paintings are always strewn about my
studio, ready for me to pick up and study whenever
I get stumped in a piece. I’ve also always been a
great admirer of the early French Impressionists and
their influences on late 19th century American art.
I’m fascinated by their economy of brushstroke, the
attempt to say more with less.
How do you feel about formal training?
I happen to be of the mind that there are some
fundamental “rules” in painting, and that a
foundation in anatomy, color theory, perspective, art
history, etc., is very important. This might not be
entirely the case for artists who are either inherent
genuises or who paint more abstractly. But as a
classical representational painter, I’ve found formal
training to be pretty inescapable. I’ve seen many
young painters who eskew formal training and whose
foundational mistakes—some easily correctable early
on—become deeply entrenched. But there’s always
a balance. I’m also not one to endorse endless
training. At some point one has to jump in and pick
up a paintbrush.
Do you have a ritual or specific process you follow
when creating art?
Like most artists, my projects are typically sparked by
a particular quality I observe in someone (and less
often, but occassionally, in some thing or some
place) that I feel compelled to try to capture and
translate visually. I almost always paint people I
know—even if it’s just casually—because I prefer to
have that emotional connection going in. At the
same time, my paintings don’t necessarily aim to be
“about” the person I’m working with; it’s the
characteristic of the individual that I try to use as a
vehicle to express larger concepts. Typically, I’ll bring
a subject into my studio, try my best to get them to
relax and not “model,”and then photograph them in
an attempt to achieve a specific pose that speaks to
me. I try to have as few preconceptions as possible
at this point, because my whole goal is to capture a
“found moment.”Once the pose is set, I bring the
model back for sittings, as needed.
How do you bring emotion across to a flat surface?
For me, classical painting is all about light; I find in my
own work that a piece’s success often rises and falls
according to the accuracy of it’s depiction. An
instructor of mine once said that in learning to paint
light, one learns to capture emotion, and I think that’s
true. So it’s through the subtleties of the way light
falls that essential things like tone and mood are
conveyed. And, on a more pratical level, I’d mention
that this is why I rarely use artificial light sources;
there’s a limitlessness about the color and range of
natural light that artificial light just can’t reproduce.
As a painter who doesn’t subscribe so
wholeheartedly to the concepts espoused by
modernism and postmodernism—or at least, I should
say, isn’t particularly affected by them—I’d also
argue that the foundation of any solid painting is
solid drawing. To my thinking, color in and of itself
does not make art. There’s form, function and
foundation there. It’s one thing to say something’s
beautiful—because there’s beauty in almost
everything, if you take the time to stop and really
look hard enough—but it’s another to call it a work of
art. So I tend to admire painters who are strong
How does your environment influence your work?
To me, this is among the more interesting questions
to think about. Environment, of course, can be
physical—as in locale, the place where you’re
physically working—or emotional, that is the place
you’re painting from internally. The latter, as you
might expect, permeates every aspect of my art.
As I look back over my body of work, among the
emotions that seem to stand out most is longing.
And by that I don’t mean to imply depressiveness
per se. It’s more so the human instinct to connect—
connection between the subject and the artist, the
subject and the viewer, but also between the subject
and something larger, something metaphysical,
In terms of physical environment, I’m frequently torn
between my own instinct to flee for newness and
what I’ve come to appreciate as an advantage to
“soaking in” one’s surroundings over a longer term.
Having lived—and painted—in Philadelphia for the
better part of my life, I’m always surprised by the
constant possibility for new subjects. And I’m
humbled by the legacy of a painter like Andrew
Wyeth, who spent all of his 91 years in nearby Chester
County, and whose paintings betray a profound
sense of physical and emotional place.
Rachel Constantine Dove oil on canvas 40” x 36” .
128 Rachel Constantine ORANGES & SARDINES Michaela charcoal and graphitie 22” x 30” .
129 Rachel Constantine ORANGES & SARDINES Pause oil on canvas 30” x 30” .
130 Rachel Constantine ORANGES & SARDINES The Sculptor oil on canvas 30” x 30” .
. in your dreams your syntax. Rebecca Foust was born in Altoona. as if you are an outsider. Foust falls back comfortably into her native town. as if you were an inhabitant. And after reading Mom’s Canoe. instead she expects you to know.. she now lives in Northern California. it will find its way into your poems. you will feel as if you were./escape the small-minded tyranny of your small-minded Midwestern coalmining town. 30 pages. but it is as though she never left western Pennsylvania.. from the first poem to the last. Sometimes one has to leave to appreciate “back home” and understand that “back home” shapes you and makes you who you are and if you are a poet. eventually.[it]..” In Mom’s Canoe. And she does not explain things that may be unique to her town. sometimes.. Go ahead…aspire to transcend your. the reader is “back home” in the Allegheny Mountains of western Pennsylvania as if he were born there.. too. Pennsylvania and grew up in a small town made up of coal mines and farmland.. stopping over to pay her a visit./But when you’ve left it behind you may find it still there. even if you “aspired to transcend. You will know of: [the]..131 O R A N G E S & S A R D I N E S MOM’S CANOE by Rebecca Foust REVIEW BY MELISSA MCEWEN Texas Review Press... even though... — from “Altoona to Anywhere” And in your poems! In Rebecca Foust’s Mom’s Canoe.. and going back home for a visit — that is how vivid Foust’s poems are in this chapbook.. — from “Things Burn Down” . the smell of your hair.[and] escape. 2008. she is reliving with you. times were hard.thick smoke from the papermill all day and night.roots.
— from “Mom’s Canoe” You’d go back to him./their feet beat a work boot tattoo. like shadow…/Remember how it glowed like honey in summer. and you’ll nod in remembrance: Do you remember your old canoe? Wooden wide-bellied.132 ORANGES & SARDINES .. Rebecca Foust’s chapbook...the men…[and how]/their coats exhale wet wool and wood smoke.. from page one to page thirty. laid off. thick vines choking/everything... but not how Foust tells it... is the epitome of what a chapbook should be. — from “Allegheny Mountain Bowl” [the]. your swaggering. Not damask...beer/served on an unfolded Altoona Mirror. tapered ends made to slip through tight river bends swiftly../How could you after he blackened/your eye. The poems in here can hold their own in any literary journal or anthology.. laid off.. you won’t have to ask” about Mom’s canoe.. MOM’S CANOE BY REBECCA FOUST ./second husband.. you’ll listen as if you’ve heard the story before./laid off... — from “Once was a River” “And if you understand. to me. — from “Things Burn Down” [the]..cottage down in the Cove —mildew and wild roses. Mom’s Canoe. is a strong compilation. dumb-bitched you and wrecked your canoe? — from “Backwoods” Overall...
Front & Back Cover Art by Lane Timotny www.com .poetsandartists.
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