3 June 2017
I collect photographs from thrift stores, other people’s pictures sold, I guess, in estate sales and such. I carry some of them with me when I travel, sometimes keep some of them on my night stand, wait for them to tell me their stories, or just so I can say that someone remembers them.
I scanned in some of my favorites.
Make art inspired by one of these photos.
Malevolent Soap
Deadline: July 1, 2017
Malevolent Soap is an independent journal of poetry and fiction. We’re based in Melbourne, Australia, but our issues feature emerging and established voices from around the planet. We publish annually, in September. Anything goes, but we’re partial to work that explores intersections of ‘high’ and ‘low’ culture. Whether it invokes Nicolas Cage as muse or bemoans Rick Deckard’s overconsumption of MSG in verse, we’re interested.
Our debut issue is slated for release on September 1. Submissions are open until July 1. We pay $20 AUD per published piece.
To submit, visit the website malevolentsoap.com
COLLATERAL
Poetry, Prose and Art on the Impact of Military Service
Submissions accepted year-round.
Collateral is an online literary journal affiliated with the University of Washington Tacoma. We publish poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, and visual arts concerned with the impact of military service beyond the combat zone. The voices of those more indirectly impacted by war sometimes go unheard, and our journal seeks to capture the “collateral” impact of military service in all its forms. We publish work by veterans, reserve/active duty soldiers, and civilians every May and November; we accept submissions year-round through our website. Send up to 5 poems, 3,000 words of prose, or 7 images.
Website: www.collateraljournal.com
31 May 2017
For years I suffered with mazeophobia, the fear of getting lost. One family member, I remember before one trip, scoffed, asking if I was afraid of flying. No, I said, I’m afraid of airports. What I actually was fearful of was getting lost in the airport. Not long after that, I ended up stranded in the Minneapolis airport for seventeen hours, walking, walking, every inch of that airport. By the time I finally boarded my plane, I wasn’t afraid of airports anymore. But…the fear of getting lost in general remained.
I bought and studied an atlas. I bought a Garmin GPS. I learned how to use the GPA on my phone. I created a system of tracking my entire journey. I not only got in my car and traveled with others, I got in that little red car and traveled by myself, thousands of miles every year, two lane backroads, me and Garmin and my maps and my notes and my music.
I still have a phobia of becoming lost, but I am more afraid of being trapped, limited, by my fear.
Make art about what it means to be lost.
1 June 2017
Make art about what’s being bought and paid for.
2 June 2017
Make art about the decline of an empire.
30 May 2017
Been hearing (and singing) this song since I woke up.
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Make art about circles, inside circles, circling, unending spirals, cycles, the circles we inhabit, the circles we create.
27 May 2017
Make art about struggling with depression.
28 May 2017
Make art about learning how to rise from the ashes.
26 May 2017
In The Citizen’s Handbook, Charles Dobson talks at length about what he call harmonizers: a facilitator whose main job will be to encourage people with different views to listen to the other, and ask questions, rather than trying to score points.”
Make art about harmonizers, about creating or fostering harmony, about harmony through compromise.
25 May 2017
Been reading and thinking a lot lately about vintage sewing, about work done by hands in the countless generations before me.
Make art about feeling connected to something from another era, another time. Reveal this connection through a specific daily process or specific object.
24 May 2017
“When someone steals another’s clothes, we call them a thief. Should we not give the same name to one who could clothe the naked and does not? The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat unused in your closet belongs to the one who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the one who has no shoes; the money which you hoard up belongs to the poor.” ― Basil of Caesarea
Make art about thieves, thievery, about thefts of the spirit.
Mary Carroll-Hackett: Poetry and Prose 
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