Author: Admin

Matt Kennedy/Art

Lauper *** Panik Collective Dancing About Architecture   by Matt Kennedy The quote “Dancing About Architecture” has been attributed to Laurie Anderson, Steve Martin, Frank Zappa, Martin Mull, Elvis Costello, Thelonius Monk, Clara Schumann, Miles Davis, George Carlin and several other people along the way. The original citation to appear in print was attributed to Martin Mull via a paraphrase by rock critic Gary Sperrazza in the September-October 1979 issue of Time Barrier Express, in which he wrote: “because I truly believe – honest – that writing about music is,” as Martin Mull put it, “like dancing about architecture.” The...

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John L. Stanizzi/Poetry

WALMART The knuckled trailer park rests in topsy repose on a plinth of ledge beside paltry little Windham Airport whose main function is flying people up so they can skydive down, and where every now and then at dusk a Cessna’s vesper whispers across the wide sky above Walmart, citadel of cornfields’ provenance where I’m going, despite my better judgement, that idiosyncratic fiction that shillyshallies all over my windblown sensibility, chameleon pinball banging off the facades of Home Depot and the hollowed out Sears building rusting against a stand of sick maples and being devoured by a parking lot where the lamp posts have risen blind in the twilight, and out on Route 6 an ’83 Ford simulated-wood-grain-sheet-vinyl-woody-wagon smolders back to tatty Willimantic, loaded down with Risoline Smoke Repair, bird seed, cukes, mangoes, and maybe a couple of cheap work shirts. I’m going in to Walmart, where expediency leverages integrity and the fishing tackle is cut-rate. And when I come out I’ll drive away from the sunset shambling behind Sears, turning my back on the litigations, the proscribed unions, the bodies aflame in Bangladesh, slapped children coiled on factory floors, their tiny fists clinched around their 6 cents an hour, while that seductress, Convenience, whispers hokum in my ear, biting my neck softly, as I drive past boarded shops, rusted vehicles, and a declining sky which welcomes me weakly,...

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Jean-Paul Gavard-Perret/On Location-France

Q: What film make you cry?
A: I’m unreasonably empathetic towards people I’ll never meet, and easily sucked in to a great film. There’s many films that have made me cry. They aren’t always tears of sadness. Beauty can quite often bring me to tears. Off the top of my head, I’d have to say anything that Wong Kar-wai and Christopher Doyle did together. Especially “In the Mood for Love”, and “Chungking Express”.

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Alan Britt/Poetry

PLANTING A SEED   (For many people)     In the back room with Van Morrison. In the back room. In the back of the back room with Duckett & Beaz, back somewhere below purple azaleas, on our backs & on the back of a B&O retiree’s gold-plated swan song. In the back, on chrome teeth insured by Federal Reserve henchmen, aka Wall Street, reserved by senators, reserved by bayoneting my ancestors through a nightmare called Trail of Tears. But who’s counting? Corporate news says when Congress tells a lie, it’s innocence by misrepresentation or its last resort: AA. Cigarette, shoulder hunched, lip down, nose lit like a rhino in the sooty cavern of a red tin Christmas ashtray delivered when the couple was together but now prefers bachelors & bachelorettes on the lam, starving for the most part, but hobbling supermarkets, public restrooms, & strangling G strings Stevie style just to spook the spookable! Revolver in Hitchcock’s dolphin’s teeth doesn’t explain our plight, yet softens the blow. Haines homesteading the outskirts of Fairbanks & James, well, James Wright, that is, St. James or Gerard, pick your saint with pungent concretes & slippery abstractions reminding us that the mantra survives, elusive as a manta off the blistering coast of Australia, or tippling the shallows of a Tennessee stream, just above that mercurial ripple where words descend & take root....

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Sue Atkinson/Education

In the dark firelight, my thoughts spin to memories of teaching in the 1970s. I remember, as a young teacher, loading (far too many) preschoolers into my van for a spur-of–the-moment field trip, and on a summer day too hot to play, taking them wading in a fountain signed “no swimming.” Then, in the 80s, setting up early intervention programs, deciding how the programs would work —because who, other than the teachers and parents of these young children with special needs, would know what was needed? And even in the late 90s, in the more conventional setting of a public middle school, putting subjects aside for a full week to celebrate Earth Day with the entire 7th grade, hiking, doing trail work, picking up litter around town, making posters, hearing speakers, and helping students create environment-themed fabric squares to combine into a class quilt.

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The name Ragazine was coined in the mid-’70s in Columbus, Ohio, as the title of an alternative newspaper/magazine put together by a group of friends. It was revived in 2004 as, the on-line magazine of arts, information and entertainment, a collaboration of artists, writers, poets, photographers, travelers and interested others. And that’s what it still is.