"The forest cries out to me,
time to come home.
and write about my beauty it says.
Come home my child.
The birds will sing for you,
leaves will rustle,
and the wolves howl.
and I will heal you."
… from a 2004 article by the ny times … the loneliest whale in the world. scientists have been tracking her since 1992 and they discovered the problem:
she isn’t like any other baleen whale. unlike all whales, she doesn’t have friends. she doesn’t have a family. she doesn’t belong to any tribe, pack or gang. she doesn’t have a lover. she never had one. her songs come in groups of two to six calls, lasting for five to six seconds each. but her voice is unlike any other baleen whale. it is unique—while the rest of her kind communicate between 12 and 25hz, she sings at 51.75hz. you see, that’s precisely the problem. no other whales can hear her. every one of her desperate calls to communicate remains unanswered. each cry ignored. and with every lonely song, she becomes sadder and more frustrated, her notes going deeper in despair as the years go by.
Milk of the She-Wolf
Imbolc, traditionally celebrated in early February is a time to celebrate the midway point of Winter, and the coming
of Spring. Join Brecia Brixia Bloodbeard, Meme, and James Nowak for an evening of poetry, music, and story telling.
Brecia Brixia Bloodbeard : music and shadow puppetry
Meme: spoken word poetry
James Nowak: folklore
Sat. Feb 8, 6:45pm
31 Kent st. (near Dublin) - NOT AT THE HOUSE BY THE TRACKS !!!
Accessibility notes: There is a flight of stairs to front door and to the washrooms.
Please arrive on time.
Vasilisa the Beautiful 1899, by Ivan Bilibin
black queen by jeremy “hush” clark
some of y’all might remember the newsprint punk zine “slug and lettuce”, and if you do you remember jeremy’s art at the masthead of most issues. scenes of oogles and crust punks fighting unseen foes with bows and arrows, or dreamily eyeing off the edge of the page while whistfully swinging their feet perched atop broken hydro lines.
jeremy’s art is beautfiul. it fills me with romance and tells great epics with a single image.
i am thankful for their art and all it inspires.
i think these are high bush cranberries! or cramp bark.
you can tell by the seed. it is flat and kind of in the shape of a heart.
my old roommates called them “stinky foot berries” when i made a sauce out of them a few years ago.
the bark is used to relieve menstrual cramps.
tree in hamilton swallowing a rail. this is more poignant than dandelions sprouting through the cracks.
on my way to a warm ride home after my last shift at the radio station.
if the wilderness is gathering,
its children will then make
their ways well into
that dark place where old knowing
always coming and going
growing into shape beneath our feet
we step out of this world and
into the next we see a future
policed, but for those outside,
powerful forces come together
as children who wander towards
the woods in sweet sombre
i see them from this window,
pulling on the masks of squirrels, wolves and deer
i hope for them from this window
they know the strength in their totem armours
that they learn the knowing
so the wilderness may truly
gather its children.