By Ian Breidenbach
Instructor: The Ferryman
Meeting Times: Weekly service to take place on , lessons will begin at dusk.
Cost of Admission: One hot meal (upon arrival) plus (+) 2 assorted canned goods (1) will provide payment for one evenings lesson (one film and one reading) for an unlimited number of members of your community.
Read MoreBy Sophie Chester-Nash
This set of photographic postcards takes ordinary scenery from the midday cityscapes of London and uses a slow shutter technique to deliberately blur what we can see to create an aesthetic vision of place, enhancing blues, pinks and golds within our gaze.
Read MoreBy Quiline Kakoty
The music in the bar was soft and the lights were dim. Three glasses clinked.
“I was never born bitter,” Ashi said quietly, swirling her vodka.
Read MoreBy Martha Lineham
At 8am on a Saturday morning in August, patterned and ageing amusement arcade carpets in the seaside resorts of Blackpool, Bognor Regis, Scarborough and Skegness are simultaneously vacuumed by arcade staff.
Read MoreBy Joshua Walker
Morning slips through the broken cabin window,
light pooling across the floorboards.
Read MoreBy Julie Steiner
“If I die young,” the country smash begins,
oblivious to the fact it’s being played
within a children’s hospital. Dismayed
Read MoreBy Valentina Fulginiti
A shopping cart will do, loose wheels
on rusty hinges, an IKEA tarp tossed
over dubious Lares. Home is a memory
of something that once called shelter.
Read MoreBy Jeff Hardin
Whole cities burning became the norm while
so many, unconcerned, didn’t bother looking up.
They chose to live there, a voice said, a chorus
agreeing. One historical moment alluded to another.
Read MoreBy Rod Ugalde De Haene
Dark days, and how beautiful to feel the low light,
cold days of sweaters and socks with sandals,
and then warmer days, with wrestlers,
and how long the hours are when night arrives
Read MoreBy Lynsey France
Each nameless acre becoming puddle
creek, river (I’ve never been this far)
to describe skin; its heavier
Read MoreBy Lisa Perkins
The sky is a turning flood, a reflecting
blanket of misunderstanding, the muted
violence of dishwater grey and steel
Read MoreBy Hauk Engelien
don’t you know enough now?
I’ve told you how it ends
how everything darkens
in the hour of the wolf
Read MoreBy Eleanor Updegraff
Recently, I have begun a collection of shoreline pottery. Small, thumbnail-size fragments, sanded by the waves.
Read MoreBy Emily Doyle
The grotesque and melancholic inspire me the most; in my work, I don’t believe in the rules of photography or what is considered a “good” image.
Read MoreBy Knut Birkholz
End of April, this elderberry and I still missed signs of life, while the delayed spring was
not holding back anymore all around us.
Read MoreBy Leon Craig
‘The ghosts are much less bad at this time of year, my aunt thinks she’s got rid of them,’ Zara said, inviting me to Almgard for the midsummer weekend.
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