So often do I want for home, for family. Where others seem so happily sheltered by their place and blood, I have long felt transient in both. Houses and kin have been left behind, their memory a mine once rich caved in with time, or burned quite literally to ash.
This girl is not ready to tell her whole story so she offers it in short words and sentences cryptic phrases and pithy replies she loves stories so much they save her for awhile space She lives in her storybooks because they are safer than ordinary life never makes plans
Perched upon a weather worn post, he watches. The field, once a pasture, has become a nest of bowing grasses. Long shadows flee the setting sun. Orange light reflects off onyx eyes of the watcher. The silhouette of birds equal in number to the blades below. The sky is darkened
She walks down the old dirt road bare feet creating no dust. s White skinned trees hold high their garlands of gold dancing in the wind which whips dark hair across pink cheeks. s Her eyes search the sky of pale blues worn through with twisting white mists. s A
Hi, Black Bears! You are in for a treat today. I recently had the pleasure of interviewing Nelson Artist Raphael Akiba, which I know you will enjoy listening to. Raphael is raw and honest, with a great story. I first met Raphael this summer at Shambhala in Salmo, B.C. where I
This publication is the result of collaboration between students and faculty of the School of University Arts & Sciences and the School of the Arts at Selkirk College. Submissions are published online throughout the year and selected works are compiled into a print magazine once per year.
We trust you will enjoy!