A new poem from Poet, Friend, and Fellow Traveler Samuel Solomon. Published for the first time here...
For May and our TIME ZONES issue, we bring you a playlist of pop from the recent past: songs mostly about love, which are really all about time...
Image, from left to right: Salvador Dalí "Metronome," 1944; Man Ray "Indestructible Object," 1923 (1965) and Claes Oldenburg – Coosje van Bruggen "Silent Metronome," 16 inch, Version Three, 2005 (Photography: Attilio Maranzano)
We can hardly believe it, but the cruelest month has come to the end, and along with it, we’ve put a wrap on our inaugural issue at Olympia Monthly.
As our name indicates (and because we celebrate the tides and moons, whether we like it or not), we’re on a monthly schedule around here. So, at the close of April, we’re excited to be switching gears. And as we speed joyfully into May, we are happy to present our second issue, a month-long exploration of literally all things related to TIME ZONES!
Artist and photographer Frances F. Denny understands about ghosts. Maybe it's because we're all previous residents of Rhode Island (she received her MFA from Rhode Island School of Design), but like us, Frances is in tune with the special magic of 200 year-old New England houses and the silent tread of spirits on worn floorboards.
Little and Big Edie Beale are, of course, the inspiring stars of the Maysles brothers’ 1975 cult documentary Grey Gardens. As a 2006 Broadway show, 2009 television movie, and countless “inspired by” fashion collections and Vogue editorial features all attest, the real point of Grey Gardens is its mother and daughter song and dance team who burn like aggressive and affecting comets through every frame. And the Grey Gardens house itself – a fourteen-room estate in fancy, old East Hampton – is no more than the incidental scenery upon which the camera occasionally lingers.
Some people love the spring. But I'm afraid I'm sort of frightened of it. The wind, the rain - the whole sky moves constantly, leaving me mostly ill-dressed and sort of uncomfortable. I'm used to thinking of it as long-lingering winter chill rather than a harbinger of the summertime, freedom from coats, irrepressible SUNSHINE. But I think I'm starting to get better at coping with the clouds.