A Blog of Seattle Arts & Lectures
Black My color is the color of absence, silence. The memory of something you thought was there, but now it’s gone. The color of your mind when you’re in a deep rest. The color of shadows that foll...
By Kathleen Flenniken, WITS Writer-in-Residence One of the most important attributes of art, and especially poetry, is the way it opens a door into another person’s life experience. A poem—a mere ...
By Laura Burgher, Writers in the Schools & Broadsides Project Intern I placed the final broadside up on the bookstand and took a step back. Patrons at Seattle Public Library’s Northgate Branch w...
Paris, Le Canal Saint-Martin Dark and silver clouds rule the sky over the dark winter city. The black bare trees reach for nothing and the murky water under the rusty iron bridge has no inhabitants.
By Erin Langner, WITS Program Associate & Sonder Editor When Linda Pastan and I approached a classroom of The Center School, where she was about to speak, we were three minutes early. A teacher i...
By Emily Bedard, WITS Writer-in-Residence On a recent day when the trees flashed a hundred hues against a cloudy Seattle sky, I entered a fourth grade WITS class, planning to play with color. We bega...
The Sea I kept deep-sea secrets in a little black bag. I carried boats through the toughest storms. I asked the fish where the shark lived. I was rough but calm. I was tired. I knew when the storm wou...
The Hymnal I am the hymnal and I have heard prayers. You call them prayers, I call them hopes Of a mother who drank away her youth.
I Used to Be a Small, Thin Bone I used to be a sloppy flower afraid to take bloom, but now I seem to walk the clouds, ruling over all that crushed me. I seem to be a small, thin bone too shy to find m...
I Used To I used to worry about my life: what will make me finally draw that smile, what makes me chase the dreams. But as soon as I hit high school, things weren’t as they seem.