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My Grandpa's Tremories / The Pinecone Wars

4/26/2020

by LEE DOUGLAS

West Virginia Road Trip by geoff dude | Flickr

My Grandpa's Tremories

“That’s how they getcha,” Grandpa whispered in sync with Kevin Bacon. “They’re under the got damned ground.”

I grinned, loving the moment.

“Sons of bitches,” Grandpa mimed cocking a rifle in time with Kevin. He raised it to his cheek, aiming at the TV. “Boom!”

I slap the couch. “You get it every time.”

“Kevin hits it every time,” Grandpa leaned back in his ancient recliner, folding his hands across his belly. His eyes flicked toward me, curious. Then they lit up with recognition. “Kevin! Want to watch Tremors?”

It was the third time he’d asked. “Of course, Grandpa.”

Fame

4/12/2020

by TOTI O'BRIEN

Utah Rocks by Lisa Cyr | Flickr

I began the sculpture with little in mind, trying to focus but incapable of true articulation. I always arrived at the lab exhausted by daily cares, only wishing to lose myself in my gestures, thinking possibly of nothing. That would work, in this particular case, as the instructor had requested a cluster of primary shapes inspired by a common theme. I could let my hands go, unworried of a final design that I would figure later. I started patting blocks of clay into spheres, halving them for easier handling. I smoothed, then reassembled them two by two.

I was thinking of rocks. Stone formations that I knew from my childhood—huge calcareous concretions, large boulders with a moonlike feel. By association, I recalled the mighty profiles of cactuses crowding those same mesas and plains, neatly matching the harshness of the granite terrain. My young eyes had long wandered over such lunar forms, greens and greys cut against too cloudless blue skies, burned out by a triumphant sunlight. I had loved them as kids love the first things they discover, explore, recognize—beyond limits, I mean. For me cactuses were creatures of power and grace, which I worshipped.

My Grandpa's Tremories / The Pinecone Wars

Fame

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