Submission Sixty-Eight

We sat out on the deck all night
From 20 feet away the rain fell,
onto the pavement,
where it began to forget itself

the headlights flickered through-
spelling in flashlight:
Last Chance,
Remembrance

The night,
it grew so dark,
we actually had to hold the lighter
at the bottom of our frozen breath
to simulate the sunrise

He had been missing for over 2 weeks
We exchanged journal entries,
tried to pretend like they weren’t eulogies

I grabbed your pinky
whenever a cloud would yell too loudly



I think the best part about growing up
Is not having the time
or ability
to miss someone

Behind our first house their was a Lilac bush
we would play in the backyard on Sundays,
you refused to go near it,
you said it was because
the mirror had made you afraid
of anything too easily beautiful

I think we both knew from a young age
the body makes you work for it

Around 4 a.m
my stomach jumped
It wanted to join the rain
which is to say,
it wanted to forget.
you did what you’ve done our whole lives
patted counter clockwise

the pads of your fingers
felt like Last Chance

Ever since he left
a body part has gone missing,

I think I see him
at the end of a trail of headlights
Collecting the parts of our selves
we tend to forget too easily.

Submitted and Writtend by: Andrew Pine

Submission Sixty-Seven

“Welcome to the Fairie Worlds festival”.

I was there, it was my sixteenth birthday, and I could not wait for my day to unfold. I thought about the coming hours, the people that would come, the music that was to play, and more than anything else I looked forward to meeting Brain Froud, an artist’s inspiration.
The gates opened, and people from all over the world came pouring in. It was amazing to see how they wore their creative souls on the outside. Elaborate hand sewn costumes, giant wings, painted bodies, men on stilts, and simple smiles stretched across the crowd. Each one a work of art, telling you a thousand untold stories as they soaked it all in.
Somewhere in the distance music began to play, it started out soft and low, drawing me nearer to make out the lyrics. “Hear the howling of wolves, provoking the night, wild dances in the full moon light...” Every able creature was linking arms and moving to the music without a care as to what waited upon their Monday desk or what anyone told them they should be. Complete freedom overtook the night with every beat of the drums.
When at last my feet could no longer take it, I braved the line of the goblin market. I have long admired the work of Brain Froud, his drawings and paintings have been the inspiration for my own art many times. He, along with his wife and son, had flown in from England to be at this festival. It was not too long before I was there standing in front of him. We shook hands and he wished me a happy birthday as he drew a small fairie on the inside page of my favorite book, Good Fairies/Bad Fairies. I can’t honestly tell you what I said to him or his talented wife, as I was struck so speechless from the reality of it all, that tears had formed in my eyes.
It was silly to cry, I know that now, but at the time the whole day made me feel like a part of something bigger than myself. It felt as if anything that you dared to dream of, could and would manifest into an attainable reality.
I met some wonderful people; I am still in touch with a few of them, others I wish I could find again. I danced to the most amazing music sung straight from the heart of poets. I was able to meet the artist whose work got me seeing fairie art in a whole new way, I was sixteen, and it was the happiest day of my life.

Submitted and Written by: Kamea Black

Submission Sixty-Six

"The Hand that Speaks Images" ~ Anonymous

Submission Sixty-Five

Saw a lovely lady at a bus stop with this backpack and requested to take a photo.
She agreed and thus,submitted it to my project.



HAVE HOPE

Smile Dolls!

Take a moment to listen to your favorite song many times and dance!

Submission Sixty-Four

Call Me A Leaf

Every fall I take notice of the leaves. They become so vibrant just before they take the flight on the blustering wind express. Eventually they become settled in and wither or whirl away.

I look at life just as I look at a leaf. Look closely at their veins. They have so many paths and patterns, like our many journeys they connect to others. But all the lines eventually come to an end. In the end there is splendid color in the preparation to “fall”. I believe our spirits do the same.

Recently I’ve noticed the imprint of fallen leaves on the cement paths of downtown. Shadows, so beautiful, where they were alone or were connected, then whirled away by a blower or breeze. Even after the leaf was gone the shadow remained.

Spring comes again for another chance at life, just like our journey if you believe in such things.

Enjoy this beautiful time, be peaceful in your winter slumber and look forward to awakening in the spring, anew!

~Submitted and Written By: Josie Leahy-Brooks

Submission Sixty-Three

He sees me still

Circumstances keep us apart
Me in the hospital
Greeting new faces every twelve hours
for six days
Him home sick unable to come.

Fate would have it
day thirteen comes while I am away
He isn't there to see me
on the Most Dreaded Day.

I leave this place
a woman changed, different though the same

Anticipating his arrival
I forget myself
I shop for dinner amongst strangers
that won't know the difference
nor care.

Driving home though
my breath begins to catch in my throat
panic and fear strangling me
What if this changes everything?
What happens if he looks at me
and can't see ME any more?

Dried tears on my lashes
I turn to greet him at the door
His hair is gone too and he sees me still
and he holds me tight
while we cry together.

Cindy Scillo
December 5, 2009
Day 15 after my first round of chemo