We are at Boots, Etc., exit 149 when driving South in Georgia towards New Orleans. We watch as a man hammers hand-wrought silver tips onto Henry’s new red leather boots. The man uses shining little nails, he squints, he moves his hands as delicately as a pianist, as a mother braiding hair. As he works behind
Author: Anna Winslow
Speaking Eryngos
The sea burning, the heads of blued Thistles nodding now, You are drift Ing across the dry grassy Field of perception. Above me, Humming with the Softness of hands in mud, Words wing and land, Clutching the branch of hope That this is finally a sign. The ache between the dunes, tilted Towards
A Conversation with Marie Schleef
Marie Schleef is a Bard Annandale ’14 Alumna who spent a semester abroad at BCB. She now lives in Berlin and directs feminist theatre productions; her seven and a half hour show Name Her premiered last year in September, and this Spring her new show, The Tin Drum, is set to premiere in Cologne, providing
On drift: The Drifting Text-Based Performance Series
cherub henry and Sam Harper moved to Berlin from New Zealand via London almost eight years ago. They now both study under Hito Steyerl at Berlin’s University of the Arts. cherub also works as a sex worker. In the summer of 2019, Sam and cherub founded a series of text-based performances called drift. drift is
Lament of Demeter
Among the silks, I felt for a bare arm. Among the racks of silk and chiffon, I felt for an arm that would be propped tenderly beside the body it belonged to, a body trying to make itself stand in the way of a whisper, or as translucent: a body that was hiding. My fingers
Angel
This story is part of our Summer Fiction Month 2020. Click here to view the stories featured this Fiction Month, as well as past fiction pieces. One morning in late spring, when only the earliest risers of the orchard were awake, a car was found crashed into the milky river that surrounded the town. The man
Icelandic Sunset
She sat on the toilet seat to wait for the dye to set, and while she did she ran a bath to soak her feet in. She poured in mint bath salts. She thumbed through a magazine. There was a spread about women before and after plastic surgery. She no longer thought plastic surgery was vain; she thought it had to do with the autonomy of a woman’s body. She associated it vaguely with the word empowerment.
