At night, the logic reverses. The dark spots indicate a lack of clouds. You still can't see the stars in these patches, of course. It's just more slender sections of cloud cover that don't reflect the city light as well.
The stars, our own star - how I crave it. If the weather stays like this, I may start writing again. And really, that's not a good thing.
A few people have been concerned that I have dropped off the face of the Earth since I haven't been writing any fiction. I still have a creative outlet; I've just turned to more visual projects. Specifically, I'm doing a lot of collage work. I'll post new pieces here from now on, but you can see a pretty complete collection here:
Flickr Set: Art(ish)
I pulled up the tomato plants today. I'd been putting it off, since so many green cherries still weighed down the branches, and tiny yellow flowers still insisted on blooming. But everything had ceased to ripen, the vines were a brown and decaying mess, and my neighbors were probably tired of looking at it all.
Three overgrown plants. Removing them was like cutting down a forest. I filled half the complex dumpster with them. Pulling and cutting and stepping on dropped, popped fruit underscored the sense of death and passing that permeated the last 5 days.
It rained on my way home Wednesday after Amy told me about Kaya. It rains most days in November. There's not enough sunshine, and this is a big part of why things die. She warned me that winter would be hard, maybe too hard for her.
In May, I planted bells, poblanos, serranos, dill, and basil, but all of those were crowded out and consumed by the tomatoes. They were the most vibrant, wild, prolific tomato plants I'd ever seen. The first I'd ever planted myself. They tasted better than even the farmer's market tomatoes. Depending on how widely you stretch the word, you could even say I loved those fragrant plants and the bright red bouquets they gave.
As I cut through the thicket and finally made it through the lower branches, I found three pepper plants. Stunted, but living and flowering, just weeks before Thanksgiving. A small green pepper hung from one of them.
Life. Different, more delicate life, only visible after something more powerful and virile stepped down. I read too much into it, I'm sure, in my need to make sense of tragedy. Nonetheless, maybe she's finding the same in her own garden. I hope she is finding what she needed, after casting what she had aside.
I love you, Kaya. Always will. Keep on growing, okay?
With Little Apocalypse, I started creating collages for illustrations and promotional postcards. And then as I got bored with Little Apocalypse, I started creating collages as stand alone pieces and as portraits of my friends. And after showing them to the super supportive, badass record-spinning Shawn Mediaclast one afternoon, I ended up with an art show! Random, right?
If you're in Eugene you should totally come by and check it out. The display is from March 1st to 14th at the Museum of Unfine Art and Record Store, 537 Willamette. There will be some other artists on display as well: Tony Brown, Brian Bushon, Bonnie O'Clair and Scott Johnson. Not to mention Unfine Art has great collage work up pretty much all the time. The reception will be during the First Friday Artwalk on the 6th. Come eat cookies with me!
I find myself fascinated by the supernatural, aliens, and the cultures surrounding them. But never in my life, until this weekend, had I experienced a convincing UFO sighting myself.
Friday night around 10:45 a friend and I were driving down 13th street heading East when he says, "Do you see that orange light?"
"Yes," I say to him, unimpressed. "It's a plane."
"Pull over."
"I am not pulling over to look at a plane."
"Pull. Over."
So I pull over and we get out of the car. At this point we're standing on 13th and Hilyard looking almost directly North, just a tiny bit NNW. There's a bright orange point of light in the sky about halfway between the horizon and zenith. And it's moving, so it's not Jupiter or Venus, but it's moving more slowly than you usually see a plane move. Then again, direction and speed are subject to a lot of illusion at that distance. A plane high in the sky headed directly towards or away from you appears stationary, a plane near the horizon moving directly towards you appears to shoot straight up. So, yeah, I'm still thinking it's a plane.
"Have you ever seen a plane that color?" J asks me. "And planes are supposed to have flashing lights on them."
"Well, maybe it's a satellite." I'm still unimpressed.
We watched it for maybe three or four minutes. Then the orange light starts to blink a little bit. Moving behind some clouds, I think, though at this point I am pushing the bounds of skepticism. Friday was beautiful and clear.
And THEN....
1... 2... 3 points of light separate from this original orange light and start slowly falling towards the horizon. The original point of light disappears entirely and then the three others fall behind the trees and out of our field of vision.
And we both start freaking out, drawing some quizzical looks from other people on the street. And then we called our friends and convinced them we were insane.
Did anyone else see this or have any idea what it might have been? I'm completely dumbfounded.
Apparently, I'm considered a "paranormal news outlet." This fills my email inbox with all sorts of interesting press releases and promotions.
Crystal Stephens of Electric Artists writes to tell us that the new A&E show, Paranormal State, will premier on December 10th at 10 PM ET. They'll air two cases back to back, featuring a young boy whose story is similar to "The Sixth Sense" and a single mom whose home is haunted by a history of brutal murder.
David M Kriegher writes to announce his website Dark Stories, a collection of true and truish ghost stories presented in both French and English.
Thanks for sending in your paranormal stories. I apologize if your event passed before I got around to sharing it here.
For frequently-updated and all-encompassing paranormal news, try the Debris Field. Lesley has this news outlet thing down.
I recently got an invite to an interesting blog series written by George Eberhart of the American Library Association. His current series is a listing of reportedly haunted libraries in the United States. (None for Louisiana, but three in Oregon.) Some are mundane, some are creepy, some are pretty scary. Is your local library listed?
On another note, I've set up shop in Eugene, Oregon. We moved into our apartment a week ago, P already has a job and I've got an interview Tuesday, so wish me luck. As I get settled in and explore what the area has to offer, I hope to start some projects here inspired by the amazing writing community in Shreveport.
Speaking of, have all you Shreveport poets set up a page on Everett Webb's Poet's Registry? Everett has taken over Red River Ink and combined it with other resources, including the Registry and his own Topcat Live. Go have a look at what he has to offer.
I keep planning to catch up on all your blogs. Please forgive me if it takes me a while. After a month travelling the country and a week trying to get established north of the Mason-Dixon, I think I finally have time for some reading.
Miss you guys!
Spacious Skies
Amber Waves of Grain
Purple Mountain Majesties
I haven't even made it to the fruited planes yet, and I think I've fallen in love with America.
More pictures as we have time.
Yo! We're back. No trips in space. Apparently we're not good enough for the aliens. (Too liberal.) But I have cool pictures for y'all on flickr.
Roswell, here we come. Maybe I'll be online at some point in the next 10 days. Or maybe I'll be abducted by aliens and come to laugh at your puny Internet technology. On the moon, we have evolved beyond computers.
These are the first from a set of homemade postcards. I rather like these. These first two are collage, made entirely of pieces used without permission ;) But I'll end up using a variety of media. And in case you couldn't tell, these are very much in the style of PostSecret.
As you may have read, local artists and local poets have been working together on an exhibition at the West Edge gallery on Milam Street. Tonight their efforts are ready for the public in "Standing at the Edge."
Members of the Trapped Truth Society, West Edge Books and News, and others will be presenting poetry in response to selected works of art in the West Edge Artists Co-Op gallery. The readings will be held in conjunction with the Shreveport Regional Arts Council Trolley Tour. More information is available at anchorpoet.
And from what I've heard, Donecia Pea will be there for the Shreveport Times, and Red River Writes and North of New Orleans may be getting some exposure, too. You might even get to see our ugly mugs in the paper.
So be there tonight! I will. And I want your company, because you're wonderful.
STANDING AT THE EDGE
Thursday, June 21
6:00 PM - 8:30 PM
WEAC Gallery on Milam, downtown Shreveport
Free to the public.
The collection of poetry, representing work by nine poets (Laura Flett, W. Macaulay Johnson, Kitty Lutke, Nan Dozier, Patrica Cochran Murrell, Mawiyah Bomani, & Nadine Charity) and eighteen artists (including Jane Heggen), will be available at a nominal fee.
I feel like an ass for not knowing sooner. I skipped a lot of emails, didn't read the news. I would have liked to go to the funeral, at least to say what I'm about to tell you here.
I don't know that I could call him a good friend. We'd only communicated by email in the last few years, and infrequently at that. But I can say that he was someone that made a difference to this community. And he made a difference to me.
Larry was a leader for Democrats, progressive, and liberal citizens in Shreveport-Bossier. I worked with him before and during the Kerry campaign, and contacted him first anytime I wanted to know what was going on over the years since.
We tried to generate hope together as the war machine threatened to tear our faith in the United States to shreds. And we were heartbroken together as Bush slid into his undeserved victory.
And I did lose faith. But Larry, Hugh McKinney, and many others like them helped bring some of it back. And they taught me that even if you lose, you will still be proud that you fought for what you believed in. Losing doesn't mean there was no point in trying.
And I know Larry was involved in the community on a number of different levels, too. He was president of the Breakfast Optimist Club (and I think I'll be making a donation to their leukemia foundation in his honor). I'm sure he touched countless lives in ways both small and large.
I know he'll be missed greatly, and that his role in our city will be a hard one to fill.
I also know that when my time comes, if I can say I have touched as many lives as he did, I will be able to die with some satisfaction. I hope he is resting in peace.
Thanks, Larry.
I know, I know, I'm in a lull. Plus I've been busy, and out of town, and at the edge of insanity.
I've been scolded. I've been scolded on one end (okay, more than one) for not posting any more recent additions to our comic world. And I've been scolded on the other for posting anything.
See, I want to keep letting this universe evolve, and keep sharing it here. But P doesn't want to do it that way. And he has a point.
So, no more comic book stuff here until we actually have something completed, published, and ready to brag about. We may build a separate website where we post some preliminary artwork, more related short stories, etc. And trust me, you'll get a link when we do. And spam emails and MySpace bulletins.
In the meantime, I guess I need to go chase down Nica, work on a story that's been brewing for too long, "Coffin Parade," and maybe scan some of my ridiculous postcards for y'all.
I'll be catching up at y'alls own blogs as soon as things slow down over here.
Also, I've decided that the possessive of y'all doesn't require a second apostrophe, the same way his, hers and its don't need one. Aren't you glad you have me to make these important decisions?
I was so intent on seeing RRI and NONO's transfer happen, I completely forgot to mention Jason Lammons (BOOK · PHOTOGRAPHY · MYSPACE). Jason co-edited the first issue of NONO, and the blasted thing never would've been printed without him. Plus he just rocks.
Forgive me, Jason!
For the last several years I've hosted a website called Red River Ink, and published a zine called North of New Orleans. Both were intended to let writers from Shreveport reach each other and the community as a whole. Now that I'm leaving Shreveport, it's time to pass those endeavors on to someone else. Because they did bring a lot of people together and make some noise in our literary community.
Thankfully, I found two eager volunteers who are going to do an awesome job of keeping both projects going, and take them in new directions. Everett Webb is turning Red River Ink into Red River Writes, and already has the new site up and running. If you had an old page on RRI, you can check the new site for instructions on submitting updates or new entries.
Get to know your webmaster. Check out Everett's other projects and websites:
TopCat Live
Poet's Registry
Legacy of Shadrack
I'm really excited to be leaving my hometown and starting a new and very different stretch of my life. But I'm also going to miss the great community we have here. I think Red River Ink and NONO are two of the things I am most proud of having contributed to Shreveport. I hope all of you will support Everett and Pam the way you've supported me.
Don't forget to go check out Red River Writes!
The Fertile Pen Group is seeking submissions for
NoNO (North of New Orleans)
Deadline: 15 July 2007
Send by email to: pamraintree@yahoo.com
Include "NoNO" in the subject line
Seeking original writings and/or B&W drawings depicting the cultural aspects of religion in the Ark-La-Tex, as follows: 1 Flash Fiction 100 word limit; 2 General Fiction 700 word limit; 1 Investigative Report 250 word limit; 1 Essay 500 word limit; 1 Anecdotal True Story 750 word limit; 3 Poems 30 line limit; 6 Poems six line limit; 1 Cover Art 4 x 6 format.
Written material should be sent to the editor in the body of an email. Contact the editor prior to sending artwork. Previously published work should be accompanied by the publication information so proper credit can be given. Submission for publication in NoNO constitutes a one-time copyright release for the issue following submission. Two free copies of NoNO will be reserved for each person whose work is published, to be claimed in person. Reserved copies will be held until the next issue is released.
Registration of copyrights is the responsibility of the copyright holder.
You've all been spelling y'all wrong. Seriously. You know how an apostrophe works, yes? In the word don't, the apostrophe goes where the o would be if we weren't so lazy we turned everything possible into a contraction. So if we agree that y'all is a contraction for you all, there should be no more debate about this very important subject.
Thoughts?
