A Blog of Seattle Arts & Lectures
The sun beats down, hot as fire, as hatred burns with a fierce desire. The olive trees weep, their branches low, as death and destruction continue to grow. They now stand as silent witnesses to this l...
I like red, and I like birds, and I like red birds. So, I like flying. So do birds. I don’t like worms. Birds do. So, I will look for birds sometimes. This poem was written by Kingston Jackso...
On the other side of the door, I can hear you crying– and there is something so obscurely beautiful in watching a star collapse before my eyes. Erosion. Implosion. Explosion.
This comic was made by Avery Brown, as a 6th grader at Renaissance School of Art and Reasoning with WITS Writer-in-Residence David Lasky, performed at our SAL Presents event with Oliver Jeffers...
I have a name, but not one representative in its nature. You humans refer to it with these multi-syllable menageries called pheromones, symbolic as inaccessible to most fine creatures on this earth, b...
When did I start falling behind My life, a game of 4 square I must have not been paying attention When did they started adding all these new rules I was completely oblivious Everyone ran along the lin...
In new woods, deer come as new life, growth, but blood looming. For you, deer, may have swift eyes, but what of your hooves? Because you must run, swift as the wind, but can’t hide. DEER is of the c...
Two roads in front of you, you take the road less traveled. Pfft, easy. Wait. Is that a Third road? When did that get here?
My brain is orange juice in a Klein Bottle. My sloppy thoughts go around in circles, but the journey is smooth. My legs are the wings of a bird. Taking chances and leading with purpose Even flying on ...
To travel is to be a passenger whose Memory is something that follows us where our lives themselves cannot. Personhood in motion is merely moment, after moment, after all; pieces of ourselves we put t...