 Album cover for Afton Wolfe, Twenty-Three. Twenty-Three
Afton Wolfe Released February 3, 2023 Independent Review by Roy Peak This review is another crossover review with The Rocking Magpie. They have plenty more good stuff, so scoot on over there after you read this! More Music Magic From One of Americana's Most Prolific Artists To get the full meaning of the title of Afton Wolfe's latest release you have to go to the man himself: "The number 23 is Magic, and as such, it has been significant in my musical journey, so my delusional apophenia led me to release these 5 (2+3) songs together on 2.3.23 for the purpose of conjuring all the Magic I possibly could from this Music.” Is music magic? It most definitely can be and Wolfe conjures up five songs on this EP that fits the bill.
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 Cover Art from Floating Candle A girl with glasses reaching forward from a dark background Floating Candle Author: Sparrow Starfell Sardothian Review by Julie Carpenter Memoir is one of the most difficult forms of literature, if not the most difficult. Even if you have a tale to tell – and this author has an amazing one – it’s tough to move outside yourself to see your life as a story. But fortunately for the reader, Sparrow has a natural instinct for storytelling and an incredible life. These two threads come together to create Floating Candle – a memoir that’s gripping and painful, but also uplifting.  SCRUFFY LOOKING GIRAFFE IN CHARCOAL From the Sacred Script: Writing from Chaos by Julie Carpenter I’m taking a figure drawing class with my husband for fun. He’s quite good and I am – it’s safe to say – the worst sketch artist in the class. But it’s freeing. My expectations are low enough to allow me to meet or even exceed them with very little effort. Anyway, I think it’s good to try new ways of thinking and seeing as you get older, regardless of the results. In an effort to retrain my brain to see things in patterns of light and line, I’ve been watching videos about sketching. Below is one of the videos I found most fascinating.  Cartoon Chicken holding book - art by JPC Sacred Chickens Cult Anti-Festo and Personality Quiz Have you ever thought to yourself – wouldn’t it be nice if I had a guru or preacher or authoritarian leader to tell me how to behave, what to think, how to feel and what information I can consume? No? Then you are primed to join our cult. Find our criteria for joining below. This document will serve as both a personality quiz to see how you fit in and a sort of anti-fest to explain what we're all about. If you join, you can expect writing tips and tools, book recommendations, an advice column for those with existential or metaphysical crises and more! How do you access all this wonderful stuff? Just check in here on the blog or in our FB group. Watch this space for more ways to connect and our upcoming podcast, Party Bus To Hell.  Pale apricot rose with green leaves - photo by JPC The Unlovable Garden by Julie Carpenter I have had and loved many gardens, from my very first back yard in Memphis, where my boxer dug up the plum trees and ate half my climbing roses, to the haunted hillbilly house where we didn’t need curtains in spring because the wisteria draped itself in billows from the big oak tree out front. But I had one garden that, if I’m being honest, was hard to love.
 Graffiti seen from a train window in Belgium, 2015 Four Poems by Jeff Weddle We Could Be Heroes Just Your Standard Love Story Settled In Not John James Audubon, Actually We Could be Heroes After they murdered Kong, the flyboys went out for beer. “What a day,” Larry said to no one in particular. “Did you see that damned thing? Big as a damned department store.” “Can department stores really be damned?” asked Reggie, the twin brother of Larry’s ex-wife, Maud.  Tedd Hazard Destructive Criticism Self-released Review by Roy Peak The acoustic scene in Pennsylvania is crazy damn strong. There must be something in the seltzer. There's folk punk icons Apes of the State with their high energy acoustic emo songs of higher truths; the highly prolific and rocking A Day Without Love; Sweet Anne Marie who sings honest songs of relationships and moving on; and now we have Tedd Hazard, a gruff-voiced singer from Pennsylvania who released an album of 17 songs that clock in just under 49 minutes called Destructive Criticism.  Five Poems
by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal Broken Face Your Memory Cruises Be There The Stumbler A Better Place Broken Face I have a broken face like Black Francis in Surfer Rosa. The sky fills with clouds and twilight enters my eyes. I open up my mouth to catch the rain that starts to fall this evening. I lean against the wind that walks with me. I am weeping as a silver moon breaks away from the clouds.  Guillermo del Toro's Cabinet of Curiosities Netflix Series Review by Roy Peak Guillermo del Toro has been a bit hit and miss with me. His films always have an ambience to them, an atmosphere of dread and mystery, a most interesting color palette, unique stories, often with scenes of weird violence and grotesqueries unimaginable. Often the sets are a character as much as the actors. Pan's Labyrinth was all mood and horror mixed with a sweet fairy tale, but I figured out the "surprise" ending almost immediately. His Hellboy films have been nice to look at but I miss the fun and sense of embracing horror that creator Mike Mignola imbues his comics with. In The Shape of Water del Toro was able to seamlessly meld horror, dark fantasy, and romance into a one of a kind magical feature. (More like this, please.) In the Netflix series Cabinet of Curiosities del Toro himself introduces these eight tales of horror in the manner of Rod Serling's Twilight Zone, using an intricate cabinet as a set piece for each show. Most of these tales are lifted straight out of pulp horror fiction literature, which works well with del Toro's style.  Photo courtesy Briianvision Dream Writing by Julie Carpenter I have a vivid dream life that sometimes crosses over into my writing. Of course, many times, dreams die with the light, cracking into dust and scattering. Poof! I’m no longer running in place through a field of skulls while zombies fling lime Jell-O bombs at my head or sweating through an interview with FBI agents in the guise of talking dogs, or whatever was happening in those immediately forgotten visions. Vanished nightmares disappear into a miasma of never-was. Just as well. But sometimes I have dreams that follow me into the waking world, hanging on in the light, refusing to dissipate, some lucid as the full moon behind inky tree branches, some hiding around corners and only jumping at me when triggered by an object, a word, or a scent. Those detailed dreams I sometimes put into words and stories. Dreams seem safer pinned in ink to a page. Is this cruel? I can’t tell but I reserve the right to defend myself. |
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