“Like, voutie-o-roony-mo means super extra happy and good. It means everything is voutie, like roony-o, you know.” – Slim Gaillard
Voutie-o-roony-mo
For a mother whose son was murdered
i was born again when he died
with no language
i had to learn a new tongue
Werner’s Nomenclature of Colors and Emily Dickinson’s Herbarium
There’s so much in life that we can’t capture in words or pictures: everything is shifting, changing, and with more hues, values and shades than our eyes can see, more notes than our ears can hear, more subtleties than our hearts can feel or our minds define. But I love that we still try.
Letter From the Editor July: Words and Silence
It seems more important now than ever to tell our stories and share our stories, and listen to the stories of others. To amplify the voices of anybody struggling to be heard, and to celebrate when the words or images or silences speak to us or bewilder us or transform us. To harness our anger or sadness or joy in a wild productive fury, resonating with the strange perfect words we make our own or the deafening silences we inhabit.
Cristina Finotto: Poems and Photographs
Poetry and photography by Cristina Finotto, of the Po delta.
Poets Love Bruegel (and so do I)
This is written not as an art historian, a poetry professor, or an academic or expert of any kind. This is written as a lover not a scholar. Though I’ve probably said too much, there’s so much more to say.
Burns Night (and vegetarian haggis)
Some very brief thoughts on the poetry of Robert Burns, and a recipe for vegetarian haggis
December
A collection of all the articles we’ve published over the past month, for those who like to savor their Magpies’ tidings as an issue. We’re really honored this month to share photography from Paris, art from Ottawa, a brilliant article written in Tokyo about a Ugandan record label, along with beautiful poetry, memoir, and more.
Breaking Away & Seamus Heaney
It’s deceptively spare and simple in a manner that hides a genius of elegance and grace, which places it in the tradition of Ozu or Rohmer.
Three Poems.
I Remember . . .
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