Category: Arts

Less Than Pretty.

  By Dana Gornall I came to dance out of necessity. At around age five, I would wake up fairly regularly in the middle of the night screaming in pain from leg cramps. My bewildered mother took me to the doctor (of course), who sent me to another doctor who recommended surgery to cut the muscles in my legs. They were tighter than they were supposed to be, and this seemed to be a quick and easy “fix.” Instead she followed another doctor’s suggestion and signed me up for dance. I quickly fell head over heels in love—the smell...

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Under the Sky. {Poetry}

  By Tammy T. Stone   Up—and the sky and sun together reveal a forever-dream, inviting us to wonder what might happen if we went soaring right through the gauzy blue, where we might land, what will sink into our bones along the way. But I am still here, on this side, so I keep my gaze steady, only looking up a little, and under the cover of snow, I see electrical wires and tree branches hanging in close conference, sharing secrets. The snow has cloaked their differences but they knew this all along. They don’t ask, “Who am...

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The Metal Mind.

  By Ty Phillips   Heavy Metal. The term brings up a myriad of images and emotions: Satanism, angry youth, noise, ignorance, beauty, intelligence, art and more. It all depends on who you ask. To me, metal is like a pulse pounding, symphonic cacophony of inspired anti-establishment brilliance. Entire albums are devoted to George Orwell’s 1984, or the medieval religious persecution of Europe. Rage Against the Machine’s hip hop inspired metal musings cry out against American police state and racial policies. Truthfully, there are just crappy metal bands out there and we all had to suffer through the non-metal...

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Face of Love. {Poetry}

    By Tracie Nichols I feel, in my bones, that everything on this glorious planet has a soul—stones, trees, rivers, animals, people. So I struggle with what feels like my complicity in using parts of the green world as “resources.” I wonder about the sacred life we remove from it’s original home and consume in our everyday lives. This poem is a collision of two trains of thought: 1) I have long, heartfelt conversations with stones and trees and other beings in the green world, and often wonder how they feel when we remove them from where they...

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Begin Again. {Poetry}

    By Elizabeth Eilers Sullivan New year fresh as fallen snow Layered atop—previous year’s waters seeped into the ground beneath The sky above Expansive and deepened Horizon to center to vanishing point Land of living skies And ground of deepened snow Step lightly, gentle strength, rising up Pressing down No fallen snowflake ever the same. The poem before the page.       Elizabeth Eilers Sullivan, MA, MFA, is a writer, SourcePoint Therapy practitioner and SomaYoga teacher. With four young boys, adventure and learning to live well while supporting others in health is a joy. Yoga, writing and...

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Buddhism For Dudes

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