by Elly Call He carried the radio because it might have been his infant. Its cries provided his unusual building materials. Beyond the collonades of guitar twang he set in front of himself, around himself, behind himself, Was the glass-trash gravel. Mid-grey alley-way. Some sassy traffic. None of this mattered to the man who took the blues and constructed– (Ionic musical sequence, the symmetrical harmony of temple relations) No his head was never covered. (The heart of the house was the courtyard.) Blueprints in his…Continue Reading “The Richmond Transients: The Architect of the Side Walk Airspace”
by Elly Call Origins aside, Some might have said Her mother Dedicated Her to some archaic deity, With requests for beauty or fertility or wealth. The deity had granted a nimbus of hair, luminous through the car exhaust. When He bent down to Her, it was an aggressive kiss introduction, And She pleaded at His face with Her wet paper hands. They didn’t work, So She conjured with sharp bone fists. She had a sinuous back. He held her wrists. There was the stop-go road…Continue Reading “The Richmond Transients: Belvidere Witch Woman”
by Christopher Sloce Whatever nostalgia taps into, it is something primal. Nobody I know is immune to suffering its effects, even the hardened among us who revisited some cultural artifact, only to learn our tastes didn’t match up with what we now find moving or funny. And fear and horror are nothing if not primal. There is something instantly recognizable in the cel-shaded early animation style that taps into that same feeling, which Al Columbia realized somewhere along the line. Al Columbia’s early artwork are…Continue Reading “Notes on Al Columbia”
The only thing that might be better than Cobblestone(s) is the zine that the staff made at zine fest. About zine fest.
by Cyrus Nuval I had the delight of interviewing one of Poictesme’s favorite photographers, Nicholas Scarpinato, a 19-year-old VCU student. The interview took place in Nicholas’ apartment; he had just gotten back from a shoot, and apologized for the mess in his bedroom. The rug had been pulled to the side where he had a set put up in a corner. Dozens of cameras perched around. Mason jars, photographs, sculptures and sketches covered every available surface. Heaps of laundry laid wildly on bins. A cracked…Continue Reading “Featured Artist: Nicholas Scarpinato”