Author Chris M. Arnone notes in his introduction that “My Name Was Baby: An Intersex Memoir” is “about healing …(and) challenging … the ideas of ‘normal’ and ‘happy.’” He accomplishes this in a memoir that explores the in-between. His intersex variations made Arnone feel neither here nor there. Those feelings extend to his experience as an... Continue Reading →
I read six books during June. But honestly, I read all six of them in the 14 days of the month in a hurried rush to the finish line. And Yael Van Der Wouden's The Safekeep was my favorite (honorable mention to Witchcraft for Wayward Girls by Grady Hendrix and Hot Girls with Balls by Benedict Nguyen).
In a solo show at Reuben Saunders Gallery, Needham utilizes vibrant hues to acknowledge the quiet comfort and abundance of nature. Recently, a friend mentioned that a tree’s roots go as deep into the earth as the tree itself is tall. I think about that bit of trivia every single day — about the abundance of nature,... Continue Reading →
You. Guys. It's real. It's live. It lives. Our podcast, Your Roots are Showing, has launched, and I'm full of all of the feels. All. Of. Them. Effusive. Bubbling. Over the top. You can listen wherever you get your ear candy. And please do.
The slim novella Vampires at Sea sounds intriguing enough: two vampires on a pleasure cruise through the Black Sea in a not so distant future. What a perfect smorgasbord. What a romp through potentially bloodied waters. Only Rebekah and Hugh are energy vampires. Yeah, like Collin from What We Do in the Shadows.
Bill Andrews spent over three decades working in hospitals throughout the south and central regions of the state. But throughout his life, his passion has been woodworking. “I think of the two things — pharmacy and woodworking — as two separate parts of my life,” said Andrews, who is 82. “Hospital pharmacy was pretty stressful,... Continue Reading →
The name comes from a line in a terribly problematic movie, Shag. The antagonist hollers the phrase "Your roots are showing!" at Melana as an insult. And that line always stuck with me. Always. I said it all the time. And in 2006 I saw the movie But I'm a Cheerleader on one of my first dates with Mallory (of course she helped expand my queer touchstones). And that whole scene of them talking about their roots. This one.
On the last Sunday of the month, Apollo Fermentations, a locally owned kombucha joint, hosts Analog Sunday with artist Kinta McGhee. Participants can grab scissors, glue, magazines and other paper ephemera, snag a 'booch from the bar, and collage to their heart’s content. Recently I tried it out myself alongside more than 30 other collage-makers.... Continue Reading →
They call it the Frequency Illusion (or the Baader–Meinhof Phenomenon), that once you see something, you can't stop seeing it. And now all I can see is Icarus flying, falling. It started with Private Rites by Julia Armfield. Our queer book club loved Armfield's debut novel Our Wives Under the Sea so much so that when her sophomore novel came out, we immediately placed it on our to-read piles. The novel's drenched in literary allusion...
“Reclaiming My Roots,” a printmaking exhibition by Marco Hernandez, explores the push and pull of the artist’s dual Mexican and American cultural backgrounds: the exchange between tradition, spirituality, and resources. The show is on view in the Regier Art Gallery at Bethel College in North Newton, Kansas through February 12.
shelly. walston. writes. 