Used to see lots of psychedelic princes and princesses on Haight Street. Not many these days. But here were hundreds of the turned on and tuned in, dressed like birds and peacocks in heat.
Here is something I’ve always believed: Just knowing I am an artist, asserting that identity, is more important than what I produce. It is a victory in itself.
This summer, an exhibit and accompanying book, Picasso: The Artist and His Muses, brings light to the women who inspired some of the artist’s greatest paintings: Women play an essential…
The Rumpus Poetry Book Club chats with Sandra Meek about her new collection An Ecology of Elsewhere, writing landscapes, and the power of syntactic density.
After I’d been working on my second novel, Skinny, for three years, and by “working on,” I mean writing aimlessly like Jack in The Shining, a friend of mine requested…