By Mary Warren Foulk One weary pandemic day I found myself returning to Mark Doty’s Still Life with Oysters and Lemon. During my second semester at Vermont College of Fine Arts, my faculty advisor urged me to read it, and within the first few pages, I understood why. I was…
By Phibby Venable All my mother’s words live around here,and I am always placing them in whatever orderI can remember.They hold the door open each morning, and suggestI have a better gratitude and attitude,for being aliveI stretch my eyes all over the sky, I lean upand look over the mountainsMy…
By William Reeves It was always about the eighty-eight black and white keys, the foot pedals, the rhythm, the synchronicity between the left hand bass clef and the right hand treble clef notes. It was about the chords, the sharps, flats, naturals and the time signatures. It was never about…
By Mary Warren Foulk One weary pandemic day I found myself returning to Mark Doty’s Still Life with Oysters and Lemon. During my second semester at Vermont College of Fine Arts, my faculty advisor urged me to read it, and within the first few pages, I understood why. I was…
By Phibby Venable All my mother’s words live around here,and I am always placing them in whatever orderI can remember.They hold the door open each morning, and suggestI have a better gratitude and attitude,for being aliveI stretch my eyes all over the sky, I lean upand look over the mountainsMy…
By William Reeves It was always about the eighty-eight black and white keys, the foot pedals, the rhythm, the synchronicity between the left hand bass clef and the right hand treble clef notes. It was about the chords, the sharps, flats, naturals and the time signatures. It was never about…