a frame
fearless and fragile
with skin that skates
until it settles
into a creamy repose
houses little lungs
which
suck
the dust of dusk
under the mustard moon
“Mustard Moon” by Meaghan Merrifield
You Make Me
those gobs
of greenish muck
that slide off your tongue
in petty,
privileged,
lumps,
make me yearn for
the sight of humiliation and
soupy mutilation
“Stop Talking” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork: I got Your Back by Keith P Rein
So Tired
I’m so tired
of spitting up pinkish chuckles
and periwinkle grins
for the sake of polite
conversation and
I am so tired of
those blunted, whispering pains
just above my belly button-
where acid has swallowed my
parties
and my
friends
and my
life -as it was-
And I’m so tired
of leaving this room and walking out
into a world where there is too much sunlight
because Iamsotired and
I just want
to
rest.
“So Tired” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork: Tired by Nina Schroeder
Little Girls Lost
She is
glitter-coral nail polish
chipping
like the white on an aging picket fence–
no more lavender ribbons
or dainty satin shoes
to protect
her virgin skin
from the dirt
of the earth.
Just the
picked
and peeled remains
of
what used to be
brand
new
“Little Girl Lost” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
For more information on artwork, click images.
Art Heap: Sunday Funnies
Pug Love by Retrowhale
We Are Creating The Future by Pope St Victor
Let’s do Lunch by Sammy Slabbinck
Danz Trio by Marco Puccini
Aesthinia by Alejandra Giraldo
Cinema Surreal: I’ll Show You Mine
A short animated film that explores the boundlessness of human imagination & the exchange of feelings and ideas.
Our imagination flies — we are its shadow on the earth.
– Vladimir Nabokov
Film by Sean Donelly
Letters from Limbo
I don’t know
if I am looking in
or looking out
of
that window in the middle of the sunset
but sometimes
my ears melt
into my teeth
and I am content
to be a thing
swimming
inandout
of
Oblivion
“Halfway to Heaven” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork: “Fight or Fright” by Dessi Terzieva
Girls on Film: Re-evaluating Nostalgia in The Great Gatsby
Last night I attended Doug Benson’s Interruption of The Great Gatsby at The Cinefamily. I hadn’t seen the film, but had heard that it was a big, awful mess designed to win over young viewers with brain-numbing hip-hop music and party culture extravagance. I couldn’t wait for the mocking to begin. But something unexpected happened between Benson’s “Does this movie take place on Earth?” and Thomas Lennon’s “Can anybody tell me who that character is? For a million dollars? Anyone?”….
I became interested.
Like a lot of people who heard about Luhrmann’s Gatsby before seeing it in a theater, I went in expecting to be offended by the off-base portrayal of the Jazz Age. Because I admittedly adopt the type of unfounded nostalgia that no person my age should. As the camera swooped into a lavish hotel room and the thumping bass of club music played over the speakers, my instinct was to say “Hey! THAT’S NOT HOW IT WAS! ” But I realized then, that I had no right to think that because all my ideas of The Jazz Age are based on images from Boardwalk Empire and Betty Boop.
It’s true that the emotional nuances of the original story are stomped on by Luhrmann’s signature vulgarity. And it’s true that he made Gatsby’s house look like a rap music video, but when we strip it down isn’t Gatsby an excessively rich dude who throws parties littered with drunk girls, booming music, celebrities, and free booze?… The interpretation isn’t exactly off the mark.
Luhrmann’s movies are often panned, but I really think that he has a talent for showing that young, stupid people are young and stupid no matter what backdrop you throw them against. We want to believe that we’ve missed out on something. That superficiality is just the oozy afterbirth of the 1980s and that our beloved Jazz Age was better than whatever we’re living in now. But the shallowness that we criticize without restraint in our own time, existed without question, in the times that we idealize.
It was not a tale of disillusionment ..or the hopelessness of time, but I left the film wanting to understand my attachment to worlds that can no longer be accessed and my need to believe that the magic so absent in the world today existed decades ago.
–
Angie Hoover
The Show Tell Project 