Author: Admin

Greg Stewart’s NYC

Nowadays sets up for the outdoor screening of the documentary, “What Lies Upstream?”   Screening: “What Lies Upstream”    Upon entering Nowadays, I am greeted by the familiar sight of young women in high-waist shorts and tattooed limbs, a common theme in the now bustling neighborhood of Ridgewood, Queens. The backyard vibe is accentuated by the colorful picnic tables with umbrellas glistening with tinsel. The dog-friendly space seems to invite everyone to befriend one another with ease. The mix speaks to the fact that demographics of New York have been in flux. Prior to the screening, a whimsical illustration of a wombat with the words Hyrax Films imprinted on it is projected onto the screen. String lights line a canopy overhead. The music prior to the film accentuates the mixed crowd, ranging from Spanish jam bands to ethereal electronic music. One can’t help but notice this environment is very kid friendly; multiple families enjoy the outdoor environment in a city where so often people are cooped up in tight apartments. Anne Horner from Maysles Cinema detailed the context of the film and some information about how the effects of polluted water can reach every one of us in spite of our distance from West Virginia, where the movie takes place. A cool breeze blows through and fills the air with a pleasant vibe. The din of voices hushes, but...

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Music & Peace: On the Road in South Korea

Listen to the Music:  On the road in South Korea with David Gittens David Gittens is as close to a Renaissance man as one can get these days, when you include the facts that he’s an artist, musician, designer, inventor, and for many years an ambassador for peace and understanding between and among Americans, as well as other residents of Planet Earth. His flying machine hangs in the Smithsonian; he has designed and built automobiles in the UK, and he regularly sends out non-denominational inspirational videos in celebration of the seasonal thresholds to an ever-expanding mailing list. On September...

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Thad Rutkowski/The Ore Hole

    THE ORE HOLE   By Thaddeus Rutkowski During a school day, a science teacher took my class on a field trip. We hiked to a patch of trees growing in a crater in the ground. “This was an ore hole,” he explained. “Iron ore was dug here; then it was blasted in a furnace and shaped into pellets. That’s what made this area rich.” All we could see were trees growing in a pit. In one section, people had dumped their garbage. Bottles, cans and other non-degradable items lay on the surface of the fill. As we walked through the leaf cover, a girl announced that she saw a penis. “It’s sticking up,” she said. “Where is it?” the teacher asked. The girl pointed to a whitish, erect object on the ground. Around the base of the object was a dark-brown sheath. “It’s a mushroom,” the teacher said, “It might be edible.” On closer inspection, the mushroom turned out to have an unpleasant smell. No one would touch it. We left it where it was. * In the evening, my parents started to argue about something—I couldn’t tell what. I tried to watch television with my brother and sister and not listen to my father’s voice. “You’ve turned them all against me,” my father said. “You’re all against me, you and your chink children.” I knew what...

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Paul Sohar/Poetry

The senior nurse leads the march out of the room, clutching the garbage bag to her
respectable spare tire, leaving the night table open and empty.

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Thad Rutkowski/Hard Biking

HARD BIKING   by Thaddeus Rutkowski It’s raining, and I’m on foot, heading for my parked bicycle, when I see a bike go by with two umbrellas attached to it. One umbrella is over the main rider, and the other is over the back wheel, as if to protect a small passenger. Maybe there is a child in the jump seat, but I can’t see any passenger as the bike rolls away. I have no umbrella. I have only a plastic jacket with a hood. Light rain falls onto my face as I start to ride home. “This isn’t so bad,” I think as my pants get soaked. “At least the air is warm, and I don’t have far to go. I ride through deep water at the side of the street. With each pedal downstroke, one foot gets wet. Maybe I should get two umbrellas for my bike. They could protect me and my daughter, if she were still small enough to ride on the back. * Between the traffic and the curb, a taxicab door opens in front of me. I’m too close to stop. My front wheel hits the door, and I fall off my bike. I pick the bike and myself up as a woman gets out of the car’s back seat and walks away. I get back on my bike and ride, but when...

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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 ragazine.cc, 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.