Sine proprio. It means “without grasping.” It’s Latin, a phrase used in the vows taken by Franciscan friars—or that’s what I learned from my friar friend, anyway. Specifically, sine proprio is the phrase used for the vow of Poverty. I would’ve thought they’d use a phrase like “without money” for a vow of poverty. But the point …
Opening up my mailbox to find indie (literary) books I might never otherwise discover is one of the pleasures of reviewing for IMAGE Journal. Each month I get to read and ponder a new one for their digest of delights, ImageUpdate, and recently it was Animal Heart, a collection of short stories by Paul Luikart. Luikart has worked …
We almost didn’t make the visit; it stormed in the morning. But the day shook off the rain and we headed east, miles of wet vineyards glowing green in the new light—my bearded beloved, my wee boys & me. Out in Greenport, at the house of our good friend V. Hansmann (poet, essayist, and host of …
“Tell me what you’ve been thinking about lately,” I said to my husband. (This is—a friend pointed out to me recently—a classic June question. I like to hear people’s deep thoughts: what they’re wrestling with, who and what they love, what they’ve always wanted to do with their lives. You’d be amazed how deep you …
95% of my days are a quotidian mixture of laboring at my desk and the care and feeding of hurricanes. (Pictured here: Hurricane #1 and Hurricane #2, along with a rare eye-of-the-storm moment) I’m pretty tired, usually; but when all is said and done, it’s a lucky life. Last week, though, felt like I’d been …
Originally appeared in ImageUpdate, a publication of IMAGE Journal. Poems as Temples Orexia by Lisa Russ Spaar Temples exist, possibly, not because the Holy is holier there, but to make us awake to it. A singular hour—one with a lover who is going on a journey, for example—draws up all our attention. Maybe this is why “Temple” and …
Originally appeared in ImageUpdate, a publication of IMAGE Journal. Poems of Violence and Mercy Said Not Said: Poems by Fred Marchant “Imagine a fishbone lodged in your throat. / Imagine it kicks and squirms. / You cough, you hack, you try to heave it out…” writes poet Fred Marchant in his new collection Said Not Said. “[Y]ou try as …
Given the legions (10,000? 15,000?) who attend the annual AWP conference (Association of Writers & Writing Programs), it should feel like a faceless sea. So how is it that, for every hour I spend there, I run into somebody I know? I’m not even especially well connected. I’m a very wee creature in the AWP zoo. …
Originally appeared in ImageUpdate, a publication of IMAGE Journal. Making Meaning from the Past Social History: Poems by Bobby C. Rogers “We were there to visit the ruins, the shabby places my father had lived during the Depression,” writes Bobby C. Rogers in the title poem of his collection, Social History. The speaker is six at the time of the …
First of all—hi. Warmly. Because that’s how you’ve always greeted me—with love. Remember me? You were a big brother or sister to me a long time ago when I warily stepped into church—a spiritual seeker, highly skeptical of Christians—and you shocked me with how kind you were and how closely you listened. That one night—when …