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A poem contains its own meaning. Robert Frost, when asked to explain a poem he had just read, is said to have answered, “So you want me to s...
Monthly archives:August 2015
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Title page of 'we plié, unto this last'
what-life, wilderness. what dawn, its smallness and our, our line
strung on with it. what...
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Vera Shorter at home.
On Books, Civil Rights and Smoking
At 92, Vera Shorter has slowed down. Slightly. Her days of consciousness-...
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How publishing cycles and vegetable celebrity don't always align.
My aunt called the other day. “I’m going to send you an article,”...
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Photo by Lynn Christoffers
Sarah Kernochan is a dynamo — a documentary filmmaker, screenwriter, director, and novelist. At 26, she...
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Nettie and Colin at their studio-shack, Photo by Michael Cummo
Their arts play off each other nicely.
If you Google “famou...
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Ag Fair, West Tisbury, 2013, by Ed Keating
An excerpt from Sian Rebecca Williams' second novel, Fourteen.
By Sian Rebecca Williams...
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Tiny House in a windstorm — Photo by Tammy Strobell, flickr.com/rowdykittens
About a year ago, my husband told me I didn’t need anoth...
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Marie-Louise Rouff in her studio gallery.
Colors and lines, from bits of memory.
“I have no clear idea of the final paintin...
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Andrew Moore: Swallowtails, 36.75 x 59", oil on linen.
The geologists, 1786-2015
By Paul Levine
One day last November I joined a ...