
The dowry becomes a cathartic process of mourning, remembrance and consolation.
The dowry becomes a cathartic process of mourning, remembrance and consolation.
Of course the truth is that despite the fact that advertising agencies are shaming us into looking alike on the outside and conservative politicians are trying to make sure we’re all the same race and religion, despite the fact that we haven’t always had the highest tolerance for difference, America has a splendid history of eccentrics, some celebrated, some obscure and forgotten.
“Even if it’s just the way the light is hitting a glass or a strange assortment of items on a table or power lines swooped in front of a house. And really these moments of beauty can be fleeting so it feels nice to capture them somehow. “
She doesn’t have a voice in their presence. What we get instead is the rich, intelligent voice of her thoughts and her memories.
The man who dug Jefferson’s grave was named Wormley Hughes. He was the principal gardener at Monticello. The garden at Monticello is a true thing of wonder. Beautiful, useful, inspiring – a perfect spot to sit and ponder questions of liberty and independence. Wormley Hughes was informally (not legally) freed after Jefferson’s death (famously, on July 4th), and shortly thereafter, Hughes’ wife and 8 of his children were divided and sold away from each other.
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.
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.
“The suburban kids are the worst.” Joe Bird stands with his hands on his hips, disconcertingly unperturbed by the repeated crashing behind him. “Kids” aged roughly 12 to 18 years, of both sexes, throw themselves violently into a chain link fence.
More and more, Pennhurst’s amazing true story is is becoming buried. I like to think my little film is helping keep it alive.
To elaborate on the metaphor of harnessed rage: I don’t mean to say that she tamed it. Rego permitted her rancour a life of its own, a force of creativity to be exploited in the studio.