K. Cohen also had a piece in the “Come Outside” issue of qarrtsiluni — Matinal.

Teju Cole (modal minority) lives in New York City. His previous contributions to qarrtsiluni are here, here, here, and here.

Karen d’Amico is a native Californian working as an artist in London, UK. She uses her blog Fluid Thinking as a way of documenting her work. This is her first appearance in qaartsiluni.

Mikey Delgado didn’t attend university or serve in the navy. He has no theories. He does, however, have a blog. His previous contibutions to qarrtsiluni are here and here.

Laura Murphy Frankstone (Laurelines), longtime painter in oils and acrylics, is just coming off of a two-year drawing spree and is trying to work her way back to brushes and paints. Her addiction to sketching, though, goes on. This is her first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

James Gapinski is a Wisconsin poet and the current editor of Beauty/Truth: A Journal of Ekphrastic Poetry. His works have been published in the United States and abroad, most recently in The Muse, Quantum Leap, Down in the Dirt, Splizz, and the Scars Publications Anthology Writings to Honour and Cherish. For more information about James’s works please see here. This is his first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Nathan Horowitz (Jackrabbi) lives and works in Vienna, Austria, teaching English,
writing poetry, and blindly obeying his cats. He also had a piece in the Education issue, Gripped by Sunlight: The Education of a Secoya Shaman.

Joe Hyam (Now’s the time) lives in Tunbridge Wells, UK. He was a journalist, but now spends more time writing poetry and growing vegetables. This is his first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Jean (this too) describes herself as an unhappy Londoner, unhappy bureaucrat, happy translator, copy-editor, and writer of political reports and speeches. Her visual and verbal creativity got blocked when she was six or seven and miraculously reappeared some 45 years later thanks to blogging, a digital camera and the inspiration of artists and writers met online. Her previous contributions to qarrtsiluni are here, here and here.

Ian Jones is an oil painter, musician, stone mason and part-time Alaskan fisherman. A member of the Rossist group of artists (www.rossism.com), Ian lives in Orlando, Florida, with his dog Julius. His work has been seen in various local gallery shows and can always be seen at www.IanJonesArt.com. This is his first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Lucy Kempton (box elder) is British, living in France with husband and dog, sometimes teaching English. A displaced dilettante and prosaic spirit, who may yet entertain poetic angels unawares. This is her first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Emma Kidd (ben conservato) says, “I am an Australian artist living in France since 2004. I am getting tired of the French asking me why I am here. I find inspiration everywhere.” This is her first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Maria Melendez has published recent poetry and essays in Barrow Street, Zone 3, Altar and Isotope. Her newest collection of poetry, How Long She’ll Last in This World, appeared in 2006 from the University of Arizona Press. She lives in northern Utah and teaches creative writing and multicultural literature at Utah State University. This is her first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Tom Montag is a poet and essayist. Recent titles include Curlew: Home (memoir) and The Big Book of Ben Zen (poetry). He is at work on a long-term project about the middlewest called Vagabond In the Middle. He blogs as The Middlewesterner. His previous contributions to qarrtsiluni are here, here, here, and here, and he served as editor for the Finding Home and First Time themes.

Peter teaches English at a Virginia high school. He blogs at Slow Reads. His previous contributions to qarrtsiluni are here and here.

Pica (Feathers of Hope), one of the guest editors for this edition, takes her cue from Pica nuttalli, the endemic magpie of central California, chatty and alighting on gleaming things. She also helped edit the Science as Poetry theme, and her own contributions to qarrtsiluni can be found here and here.

Brian Pike has a website here and an artist’s statement here. He lives and and works in Richmond, North Yorkshire, UK. This is his first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Erika Rathje is a graduate of the Communication Design program at the Emily Carr Institute in Vancouver, BC. A web and graphic designer, she enjoys tea, chocolate and European desserts. Current interests include writing, blogging (at thirteen cent pinball), food and public health. This is her first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Marja-Leena Rathje is a Finnish-Canadian artist living and working in Vancouver. She has exhibited her printworks internationally as well as in Canada. Her eponymous blog is a showcase for her work and artistic process, as well as her reflections on many subjects that inform her work including culture, archaeology and Finnish history. Her previous contributions to qarrtsiluni are here, here, here, and here.

Rachel Rawlins (frizzyLogic) is currently very excited by meditation, knitting and spreadsheets. This may change. She drinks very expensive coffee which she can’t afford and is hoping this will change. She loves taking pictures almost as much as she loves the dog, the cat and the boys. Her previous contributions to qarrtsiluni are here, here, here and here.

Daniel Ribar (In the Lion’s Den) describes himself as “Just a person struggling to find faith and hope in the bright spots of our existence.” He also had a piece in the “Short Shorts” edition of qarrtsiluni.

Kate Sheckler is a student in the English Literature Master Program at the University of Montréal. After 20 years as a milinery designer, she began writing and in 2005 was a recipient in the Quebec Writer’s Federation’s mentoring program. Her short fiction has been published in Carte Blanche and she teaches creative writing at the Thomas More Institute. This is her first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Tall Girl (Smoke and Ash) is a tall poet living in Yorkshire, who loves walking the hills and valleys around her home, photographing dry stone walls, and blogging. This is her first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Jared Wahlgren is a poet and student. His work has appeared online at 3lights, static movement, flutter, brink magazine, elimae and rogue poetry review, and in print at cosmopsis quarterly, as well as in the last edition of qarrtsiluni (here).

Amy Watkins is a poet, visual artist and founding member of the arts group Rossism. She lives in Orlando, Florida, with her husband and daughter, and pays the bills by proofreading camping guides for AAA. Her poems have appeared in The MacGuffin and The Louisville Review. This is her first appearance in qarrtsiluni.

Lori Witzel (chatoyance): In addition to co-editing this issue with Pica, Lori is the new Circulation Manager of qarrtsiluni. Lori is a writer and artist based in Austin, Texas whose day job is in marketing. Her writing has appeared in qarrtsiluni (here and here) and in the fever-dreams of an elderly Huaorani shaman. She had a brief but glorious career as an actress, playing a deranged woman in the cult classic Slacker.

Marly Youmans‘ most recent novel is The Wolf Pit. Her latest fantasy for children is Ingledove, and her first book of poetry is Claire. Currently forthcoming are: stories in Postscripts (U.K.), Argosy Quarterly, Logorrhea (Bantam), The Beastly Bride (Viking), and other venues; poems here and there; and a limited edition novella, Val / Orson, from P. S. Publishing in the U.K. (2008). This is her first appearance in qarrtsiluni, but you can read more of her work online at her blog.

Silent Messengers: Connecting with D’Amico #2
by Marja-Leena Rathje, printmaker and Karen d’Amico, photographer

*

In Its Four Voices – Silent Messengers: Connecting with D’Amico #2

Download poem (MP3, 2.18 MB)

text by Tom Montag, audio editing by Erika Rathje, vocal performance by all four

by Brian Pike (#1.9 in the gallery)

*

Shutters

There is little shadow cast,
I shy
away from the high notes.
We place our souls
in envelopes
and lip them shut.
We take away
the day
half dark, half sputtered,
semi-erected.
We built this house here,
the shutters
have
tired (e)y(e)s.

by Jared Wahlgren

*

The Skull of Arlen Siu

The calavera of Arlen Siu
wants coffee.

Relieved of being pretty,
she laughs and laughs.

Revolutionaries march her face,
enbannered,

down the avenida. Who carries off
her clavicle, toes, and elbows?

That symphysis of shadesong
hinged in her pubis.

Volcanic birds, volcanic trees,
volcanic economy…

The calavera of Arlen Siu
wants fair-trade darkness.

Wants the universe to collapse back
to knuckle-bone size.

Underground, every pound of dirt’s prized
for its infinite beauty spots.

by Maria Melendez

*

mark

flesh to fossil
what we were
bone to stone
fell away
dark chest open
what remained
fishbone spine
etched on rock
pale rib-basket
our body-print
empty now
last tattoo

our mark

by Tall Girl

*

Edge

On the edge I stand,
peering over.

The wet crags below flick sunlight back.
I remember how I slipped on some moss
as we made our way up the last hill,
so I step back from the edge.

The chasm cut beneath those rocks
seems so insignificant now.

You peer over as I move back.
To you it’s still significant. You shudder
and pull away. You want me to hold you;
you want comfort, but there is none to give.

by James Gapinski

by Daniel Ribar

*

Barn standing

If no fire guts it,
the sills rot out.
Oak a foot thick
will give to damp
within two hundred years.

Ice first split
the stone below.
Bore with a stone drill;
fill the groove with water.
One winter
will shear granite.

When the sills give,
the clapboards pleat
under the weight
of hay wagons.
The windows buckle,
and every summer
we mend the glass.

by Katherine Abbott

“Face 1,” by Laura Frankstone of Laurelines

*

Botticelli
A sketch after Botticelli by Laura Frankstone

This head’s more proud and sparkling than the one
Sandro painted—something like the sun

Blossoms in the face, as if acclaim
Five hundred years to come could flare as flame

In him; he is a mirror reflecting lights
From God and Medici, a moon on nights

When mythic paintings char by his own hand,
Jumbled with lutes, rouge pots, and gilded fans

In Lenten bonfires of the vanities.
And yet the face that’s swerved toward us espies

Neither magi, baby, nor company
Of nobles near the girl—he turns to see

In dazzled eyes across the near and far,
His picture glowing like the Christmas star.

by Marly Youmans

Handbook for Explorers, 10

Getting lost’s the better part of getting there;
The other half’s not knowing where you were
At first; or what it is you may discover -
God’s word, or a herb that’ll provide a cure
For broken bones or dislocated minds -

As darkness wraps up the mountain face
Where you flounder, and contrary winds
Give loose advice . . .

. . . and confused, you tread space
And falling, wonder how long until
You land; find not oblivion but snow
To cushion you, and guess you’re still
Alive in a dead world of ice and rock,
At whose heart lurk new secrets to unlock.

photos by Lucy Kempton

poem by Joe Hyam

by Rachel Rawlins

*

Safe

Here
you’ll find
no racing pulse,
electric touch,
flower folds
or passion’s flush;
no heated gaze,
no sweaty limbs,
no swollen, thrusting
metonyms.
Nobody sins,
no one reclines.
She doesn’t taste or smell his skin.
Not here, their carnal valentine.
No petals were crushed to make these lines.

by K. Cohen