"This work is unlike any other, in its range of rich, conjuring imagery and its dexterity, its smart voice. Carroll-Hackett doesn’t spare us—but doesn’t save us—she draws a blueprint of power and class with her unflinching pivot: matter-of-fact and tender." —Jan Beatty
Foliate Oak wants your lyrical essays, your hybrids, your most brave, most zany writing. Please submit photography and artwork also. We want to hear from people whose work we have not published. We want newness.
Website: http://www.foliateoak.com/
Full Guidelines & Submit Here: https://foliateoakliterarymagazine.submittable.com/submit
Spent a lot of time the last two days in traffic jams.
Make art about something unexpectedly positive arising from being stuck in a traffic jam.
8/25/2016
Make art about ceremony.
8/26/2016
Make art about grandmothers.
8/27/2016
Make art about spirituality or faith as a spectator sport.
8/28/2016
Make art about realizing you already had what you though your were looking for.
8/29/2016
Make art about finding family, or about the family you choose, rather than the one you were born to.
8/30/2016
Mercury goes into a three week retrograde, starting today. Careful with communication and travel plans.
Make art about something spinning backwards, or about a snafu in communication or travel.
8/31/2016
Make art about taking a shortcut.
9/1/2016
Make art about coming back home.
9/2/2016
Make art about a specific request from a child.
9/3/2016
Make art about dragons.
9/4/2016
Interestingly, the word dragon derives from two separate Greek words. One word means “a huge serpent or snake” and the other means “I see clearly”.
Make art about seeing the panoramic view, the big picture.
9/5/2016
Make art about getting your wings.
9/6/2016
Recently witnessed a young man in line at the grocery store pay for the purchases of the stranger behind him, just as an act of kindness.
Make art about an act of kindness toward a stranger.
9/7/2016
In that same grocery store line, the woman behind me, even after having witnessed the young man’s spontaneous act of kindness, ranted on about how awful young ones are.
Make art about being blind to what’s right before you.
9/8/2016
Soundtrack for the day: R.E.M.
Make art about losing your religion.
9/9/2016
Whoever the next man in my life turns out to be, he’s gonna need to love onions 🙂 or at least be tolerant of how much I love em.
Make art about loving someone in spite of themselves 🙂
9/10/2016
I have been diagnosed with Complicated Grief Based PTSD. PTSD is so misunderstood.
Make art about PTSD, about the echoes and scars of trauma.
9/11/2016
The sky was so blue that day.
Make art about the tension of beauty set against tragedy.
9/12/2016
“Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy.” (Proverbs 14:10).
Make art about healing bitterness. Or about finding compassion for a bitter person.
9/13/2016
“Where is a woman, there is magic. If there is a moon falling from her mouth, she is a woman who knows her magic, who can share or not share her powers. A woman with a moon falling from her mouth, roses between her legs, and tiaras of Spanish moss, this woman is a consort with the spirits.”~Nzotake Shange. Ms. Shange has inspired me since my teen years. She still does, every day.
Pick a line from a writer who has inspired you for years, and use it to inspire art.
9/14/2016
Make art about the Harvest Moon. Or about an eclipse. Use either as a metaphor in a new and different way.
9/15/2016
Make art about stitches, something sewn together, or something coming apart at the seams.
9/16/2016
Make art about a late night visitor.
9/17/2016
We managed to surprise my oldest son with a birthday celebration today 🙂 Not an easy task to catch him off guard that way 🙂
Make art about surprising someone.
9/18/2016
Came home from my walk to find The Fisher King on TV, one of my favorite movies.
Make art inspired by a scene from a favorite film.
9/19/2016
Writing today about a particularly tough lesson I learned.
This week, meet Karenne Wood, a poet and linguistic anthropologist who grew up in the suburbs of Washington, DC. She earned an MFA at George Mason University and a PhD in anthropology at the University of Virginia, where she was a Ford Fellow. Wood is the author of the poetry collection Markings on Earth(2001), which won a Diane Decorah Award for Poetry from the Native Writers’ Circle of the Americas. Her work was included in the anthologies Sister Nations: Native American Women Writers in Community (2002) and The People Who Stayed: Southeastern Indian Writing After Removal (2010). In her poems, she often explores themes of identity, cultural practice, and language within portraits of historical and contemporary Virginia Indians.
An enrolled member of the Monacan Indian Nation, Wood serves on the Monacan Tribal Council and directs the Virginia Indian Programs at the Virginia Center for the Humanities. She has served as the repatriation director for the Association on American Indian Affairs and as a researcher for the National Museum of the American Indian. Wood curated Beyond Jamestown: Virginia Indians Past and Present, exhibited at the Virginia Museum of Natural History. She has served as chair of the Virginia Council on Indians and as a member of the National Congress of American Indians’ Repatriation Commission.
Submissions are now open for Nimrod International Journal’s Spring 2017 issue, Leaving Home, Finding Home.
“For this issue, we invite poems, short stories, and creative nonfiction that explore ideas of home. We are especially interested in receiving work by immigrants, “Third Culture Kids,” and expatriates. Other ideas include work about age and home, the connections between family and home, and home as a state of mind. For poetry, submit up to 8 pages; for fiction and creative nonfiction, 7,500 words maximum.”
Light will be a journey of emotion through photography and poetry. It will feature the work of established and emerging photographers and poets. The theme for the inaugural issue is Human. It’s a bit of a challenge. We identify humanity with countless topics. There are many ways to make the “human-ness” of our situations personal, beautiful, and memorable. But how do we take what’s so familiar and make it fresh and surprising? We’re looking for photography and poetry that investigate the theme. Give us your boldest, slyest, most inquisitive visions of the human.
“I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer.”~Violette Leduc
Make art about relentless heat.
19 August 2016
So I stood in my yard today and watched a truck hauling a trailer lose control just long enough to smash my mailbox to smithereens.19 August 2016
Make art about witnessing destruction.
20 August 2016
Visiting with family and looking through some newly discovered old family photographs, including some I’d never seen of that wild lil girl I was 🙂
Make art about yourself as a child.
21 August 2016
My sons helped me shuck, cut, and can six dozen ears of corn today. It’s a messy job, but now the house smells like caramel corn, and we have yummy summer in a jar for those cold winter months.
Make art about a task that’s hard, but worth it.
22 August 2016
I’m headed out later this week for a spiritual retreat and a couple of road trip visits with family. Excited, but fretting over getting all my stuff ready.
This week meet the fabulous Karen Craigo. Karen is the author of the poetry collection No More Milk(Sundress Publications, 2016), as well as the forthcoming collection Passing Through Humansville(ELJ Publications, 2017). Her poetry and essays appear in numerous journals, and she is the author of two chapbooks,Someone Could Build Something Here(Winged City, 2013) and Stone for an Eye(Kent State/Wick, 2004).
Despite the seeming refusal implied by No More Milk, there’s vast generosity in these poems, a sense of holiness in even the smallest of gestures. Holy, but not numinous: these are embodied prayers, “in praise of what’s left/ and all the hands it has known,” the kind that makes you “bow beneath the burden of words.” There is a profound personal morality at stake for this poet who loves the people and things of this earth in all their itchy-butt blessedness, “the slugs/ as much as the lilacs,” who manages to sing like “the bird/ that has made us rise…/…yesterday’s anger/ reduced to syllables in the air.” Alleluia.
—Heidi Czerwiec, author of Self-Portrait as Bettie Page and Sweet/Crude: A Bakken Boom Cycle
Foliate Oak Literary Magazine wants your best writing, art, and photography. We are seeking submissions from contributors who we have not previously published. Please read our guidelines before submitting:www.foliateoak.com/submit.html.
From their guidelines:
“We love previously unpublished quirky writing that makes sense, preferably flash fiction (less than 1000 words). We are eager to read short creative nonfiction also. We rarely accept submissions that have over 2700 words. We enjoy poems that we understand, preferably not rhyming poems, unless you make the rhyme so fascinating we’ll wonder why we ever said anything about avoiding rhymes. Give us something fresh, unexpected, and will make us say, “Wow!” We’re not interested in homophobic, religious rants, or pornographic, violent stories.
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