Categories
Art Literature

Because That’s What Snow Is, Right?

blueflower

A little treat for the snow. You wouldn’t believe the bad rep it gets. Maybe you would. But…’tis the season for forgiveness?

Snow

A subtle difference is in the sky,
A light to dream or softly whisper by—
As if, with Heaven’s quiet grace endowed,
A candle flame were whisk’d within each cloud,
And showing faintly through the grey-cast veil
That makes some shining Ceremony pale
Concealing kindled starlight from our eyes
Lest we perceive what angels realize;
Oh still that thrill of eager wonder bright
We feel for this white magic at mid-night.

Categories
Art Literature

Your Reputation Precedes You

redflower

On the theme of “Reservation,” why not write about one of the greatest social enigmas of all–getting to know a stranger? And what if that stranger just happened to be the world’s most savage literary critic, Edgar Allan Poe? Wallie and I decided to explore the reservations between strangers (and not-quite strangers) meeting for the first time.

***

There is a superstition amongst players that a performance of Macbeth brings ill luck on the company. We had just given a performance that I remember, when I first met him. It was a poor season and perhaps we knew we were not at our best, but we gave it what we could on tight, empty bellies, breathing cold air through cold noses and making fine gestures with numb hands. The winter was bitter and had worked itself into our bones. But it was not the play nor the weather that troubled us. It was a villain with a pen, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe.