1 August 2017
(ĕl′ĭ-gəns)
n.
Refinement, grace, and beauty in movement, appearance, or manners.
Tasteful opulence in form, decoration, or presentation.
Restraint and grace of style.
Make art about the elegance of the natural world.
30 July 2017
Was asked by another young person to teach him about cooking and food preservation. Blows up my heart to pass the old wisdom on ❤
Make art about preserving and teaching old wisdom.
31 July 2017
Woke up hearing music this morning, a tenor singing down the hall, song woven through the fabric of my waking air
Make art about who you hear singing in the distance.
Better late than never 🙂 Since I missed yesterday….
Anomaly (formerly known as Drunken Boat) is accepting submissions in poetry, fiction, nonfiction, comics, and translation from June 1 – September 1. Send your best, most challenging work through Submittable today! anmly.org/submit
SPECIAL CALL: Anomaly’s GLITTERBRAIN folio seeks work by queer and trans indigenous people and people of color who identify as mentally-ill, neurodivergent, or as having mental illness. Send up to 5 pieces, and a brief bio to sarahATanomalouspressDOTorg by August 15th.
28 July 2017
Make art about someone who speaks without thinking.
29 July 2017
Make art about chasing your own tail.
27 July 2017
Make art about those who sow discord, about resisting the chaos they create.
26 July 2017
The world is in so much pain right now, so much anger, so much fear. If I am not mindful, that collective despair will weigh down on my back, settle ’round my shoulders like a yoke, until it chokes me, and I am become part of the problem, rather than doing what I think I should–choosing light, choosing peace, choosing Love–doing all that I can to be a force for compassion and Love in this world. So I have to make sure that I care for myself, body and spirit. I personally seek solace in the natural world, in my garden.
It reminds me, daily, that we are made not from our successes, but from the narrative of learning embodied in failure, every lush, red tomato now the product of years on my knees, learning, lessons gifted by seeds that did not germinate, rain that did not fall, soil that wasn’t ready, woodlings that wandered in and ate the fruit, reminders of my rent being due, for sharing this space.
Reward, and humility, in equal share, mistakes and losses, the cost of carelessness, the reminder that I own no space alone in my time on this planet, reside always in the garden. But even more, for me, in that small space, dwells possibility. Even in the darkest winter months, I imagine what will come, with spring. I find solace in the garden’s persistent gift, the imagining of an unimaginable future.
Make art about where you find solace.
25 July 2017
Make art inspired by or incorporating a set of instructions.
19 July 2017
Make art about self-deception, about deluding the self.
20 July 2017
Make art about pardons, the act of pardoning, about choosing to punish or forgive.
21 July 2017
Experts have often drawn a correlation between heat and crime.
Make art about the emotional effects of extreme heat.
Mary Carroll-Hackett: Poetry and Prose 
Recent Comments