To make a mark, like initials carved on a tree, because the digital world is not enough. To play with words and sounds because I can sing a tune only on the page. To run wild and barefooted through a vast field of images with all their sparks and connections. To be heard as a…

When I was a kid, my mother never had enough money to fill the tank on her old Chevy with one missing back fender. She would pull into Percy’s garage and buy a dollar’s worth of gas at a time. In those days that would last us a while and she’d parcel out the funds…

Here in Broomfield, CO we embrace One Book, One City, in which many citizens all read a selected book and talk about it, listen to lectures and readings. Turns out we also have a national version, The Big Read, originated and promoted by the National Endowment for the Arts. This year The Big Read features…

Sena Jetter Nasland’s ninth novel, The Fountain of St. James Court: Portrait of the Artist as an Old Woman, is a good read, mostly. I did carp to myself about the sumptuousness of both the language and the settings. The book is a novel within a novel, no mean feat, eh? The outer shell shows…