Tag: art
member name: Birdie Jaworski
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June 20, 2008 09:59 AM EDT --
One of the artists paints my garage wall.
Two years ago, taggers hit the side of my garage that faces one of my New Mexican town's alleys, hit it with white aerosol spray in the shape . . .
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November 27, 2007 08:24 PM EST --
In the midst of dark, war-torn 1939, artist Marc Chagall feared his days were numbered. The Nazis marched toward Paris, toward the small enclave of artists and intellectuals housing the middle-aged Russian . . .
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June 08, 2007 11:37 AM EDT --
I shifted from fourth gear to third as I ditched a Santa Fe strip-mall street for the steep grind of uneven asphalt that split a west-side mesa into two snowy halves. My young son, 9, leaned against the . . .
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April 05, 2007 09:26 AM EDT --
I teach beginner guitar at my boys' school two mornings a week. Most weeks I let the students decide which songs to learn. They pick music that would make most instructors flinch - thick brassy chords . . .
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August 23, 2007 09:04 AM EDT --
Thursday, August 23
Wild Card!
Post your best story, poem, or article on writing! A prize (Yes! A real-life prize that I will ship to you!) will be awarded to the piece that I enjoy the most:
The Navajo . . .
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August 01, 2006 12:46 PM EDT --
Since you've been gone I'm just falling apart, there's a hole in my life, in my soul, in my heart, and I stare out this window 'till light becomes dark.
I kept singing those words over . . .
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August 02, 2006 07:46 AM EDT --
One summer vacation I collected Monarch butterflies and pinned them to an old walnut board in the family barn. I was eleven and chubby with a Dorothy Hamill haircut, and my two younger sisters and I built . . .
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June 04, 2007 11:44 PM EDT --
Last night, after kid and animal retired, after the graduation party down the street was well under way with the wail of Mariachi music and the reek of cheap beer, I lit a ginger candle, opened the walnut . . .
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September 18, 2008 12:51 PM EDT --
A massive football player, his uniform black, heavy, robotic, runs through a modern city, a flutter of torn books beneath spiked shoes. He carries a graduation cap in one hand, stolen from the head of . . .
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June 24, 2007 04:49 PM EDT --
My son, age 12, called me to his side. He sat at the family computer. The screen flickered with the ochre, black and gray of NPR's website.
"Mom! Look! You should send one of your stories here!" . . .
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