Turtles, wagnerianus, azalea

Monkey (mummificated)

Helianthus tuberosus

Chameleon, hanging begonia

Arie van’t Riet is a medical physicist from the Netherlands. His x-ray photographs are available in limited edition prints. More information on those and more examples of his work can be found at http://www.xrart.nl/.

Iguanas,bromelia, tillandsia

Along the road side

Chicken

Caduseus dutch

Turtles, wagnerianus, azalea

Dragonfly, Wild Roses

Today marks the digital release of Tony Curtis: Driven to Stardom, the definitive film about one of the silver screen’s most fascinating stars!

From his difficult childhood in the Bronx to his rise to international fame, Tony Curtis gives his most honest and intimate interview of all in a film that’s not only a biographical account of the legendary actor and his six-decade film career, but also an exploration into the universal concept of fame and its impact on Hollywood stars. Combining personal interviews from family, friends and co-stars (including Hugh Hefner, Theresa Russell, Harry Belafonte, Debbie Reynolds, Mamie Van Doren, John Gilmore, Sally Kellerman, Nicolas Roeg and Jill Curtis), filmmaker Ian Ayres forms some incredible material into a revealing portrait of one of Hollywood’s greatest legends.

This feature-length film is now available in North America on the following platforms: iTunes, Amazon Instant Video, Google Play, YouTube (TVOD), Vudu, XBox and Sony Entertainment Network (Playstation).

Available on Vudu at http://www.vudu.com/movies/#!content/512966

To rent or own from Amazon please see here.

Tommy Emmanuel is an acoustic guitar virtuoso who has delighted fans with his complicated fingerstyle technique. He has been playing Maton guitars for most of his career. A long standing fan of Chet Atkins he recorded the album The Day Finger Pickers Took Over The World with Atkins, the album also turned out the be the last Atkins ever recorded. Tommy still performs at the Chet Atkins Appreciation Society every July in Nashville. He recently wrapped a tour alongside Martin Taylor.

What was it like being taught to accompany your mother on steel guitar when you were only 4? Do you think looking back those are some of your most fond memories? What do you think is the most important thing you learned from her?

It was so long ago, it’s hard to remember everything. I recall it was exciting to play music with my mother – everyday I looked forward to hearing the school bell, knowing that I would run across the road to our home and my mum would be waiting to play. She showed me some songs that were simple and easy to remember. She taught me how a song is constructed, to know the difference between the verse and the chorus and the bridge, and to look out for key changes. I think I learned the importance of melody against chords through learning all these songs.

Do you remember what it was like to work as musician at the age of 6? Did you ever get stage fright when you first started playing to crowds?

I was never afraid of going on stage – in fact, the opposite is true; I couldn’t wait to get out there. I’m just the same today.

I read somewhere that you vividly remember the first time you heard Chet Atkins on the radio, can you tell us a little about what that moment was like for you back then?

I heard Chet on the radio and it sounded better than anything I’d ever heard. There was a power and great tone in his playing, and at the same time, it was very commercial-sounding for its day. Everybody was attracted to Chet’s records. I recall thinking, “I want to do that.” He sounded better than everyone else.

What was Chet Atkins like? Aside from his playing what did you love most about him?

He was a guy who loved life and loved people and was fascinated by human achievement. He taught me to appreciate the cleverness of some people and to not forget the simpler things of life. His positive attitude and humble approach with me and everybody else around him, made life seem like it was full of possibilities.

What do you love most about playing the guitar?

The fun it brings to people to hear and watch it. It is a weapon of mass construction!

Why do you prefer to use Maton guitars?

I like everything about them. They feel great, they sound good and when you plug them in, no other guitar comes close. I like many brands of guitars, but for me, the Maton is the complete package.

What was it like to perform with your brother Phil at the closing ceremony of the Summer Olympics in Sydney in 2000?

Two words: exhilarating and unforgettable. We played lived using inner-ear monitors and Line 6 pods. We played to a backing track but we were live. It was such a big event that the rehearsals went for two weeks. It was an amazing achievement and I was so proud of my country for hosting this amazing event.

Do you think certain talents such as musical ability are inherited to a certain extent?

I think a person’s desires and abilities are definitely handed on through the generations, but those who do well with their abilities are the ones who are willing to put in the work and be dedicated, and who are willing to sacrifice for its fruition.

Why do you think music has been such a powerful force throughout the ages?

Music goes back to the dawn of civilization. There’s a principle here: sing to that which is unproductive and it will be productive. Nature will always answer your call. In the same way that native Americans would sing to their crops to make a good harvest, I play to the people to try to make their lives better.

 Do you ever wonder where your life would be now if not for the music?

I cannot imagine one day without music – it would be sad!

Do you still enjoying touring as much as you did early in your career?

I enjoy touring more than ever because I’m not just a player in a band. These are my concerts and I have a greater obligation to the audience to give more of myself.

Is it true you don’t use set lists? Why is that?

I only use a set list if I’m working with a band or orchestra so that people know what’s coming next. When I work on my own, I don’t need a set list – I decide what I’m playing on the fly based on being in the moment.

I read somewhere that Steve Vai considers you one of the most inspired acoustic guitar players he has ever seen. What are your feelings on that? How does it feel to have guitarist from all various skill levels admire your work?

I’m just one of millions of guitar players around the world. We are like a brotherhood and sisterhood and we are all different. Steve has been a good friend to me and his words are always encouraging. The funny thing is, we are all so busy that sometimes we have to communicate with each other through interviews like this!

What advice would you offer the beginning guitarist?

Learn some good songs. Keep it simple and give yourself lots of time.

Is there any one moment that you consider to be the highlight of your career?

No…every day above ground is a good one for me. What’s next is what’s intriguing to me. A life in music is filled with endless possibilities.

What projects are you currently working on?

I’m always hoping to write more songs, but I’ve been practicing some Jerry Reed songs recently to play them better. I have a new solo album in the works and also an album of love song covers with John Knowles as well. We are busy boys!

What do you think is the key to a life well lived?

Everything in moderation. Keep things simple, don’t get greedy and be generous.

If you don’t mind my asking what are your personal feelings on death and what comes after? How do you hope to be remembered when your time comes?

Death does not sadden me, it’s just part of life. I have never cried at a funeral. I don’t worry about being remembered, I just do the best I can while I’m here. I certainly don’t know what will happen to me after I die, nobody does!

Anything you’d like to say before you go?

Music is one of the best ways to communicate feelings and ideas, so use it wisely.

Existence, Example and Eccentricities

Two floors down

and one wing over,

a maid, in snow-white

armor and mild-

tempered faith—

a muffled trouble—

reduced large portions

of men to size

with little application.

Not-so-good ensued.

It wasn’t the girl’s

fault. This isn’t the press.

An ancient state of mind

must be forgiven.

Note: This is a found poem from the Pulitzer Prize-winning work, Advise and Consent, originally created for the “Pulitzer Remix” National Poetry Month challenge website. The poem was only available for viewing for April, 2013.

Jen Karetnick is the author of three poetry chapbooks, the latest of which is Landscaping for Wildlife (BigWonderful Press, December 2012). Her work has appeared widely in print and online in Barrow Street, Blood Lotus, Cimarron Review, Cleaver Magazine, Georgetown Review, Gravel Mag, North American Review, and River Styx, among others. She works as the Creative Writing Director for Miami Arts Charter School and a freelance food-travel writer and critic for several national and regional publications, including MIAMI Magazine, Relish, 10Best/USA Today, and Vegas Player.

Among the European artists, the works of Theo Danella stand out by their lightness. An aesthetic that no longer is commonplace in our time: Winning and friendly, sometimes even funny. Here, with dignified restraint. Sometimes, loud, but not shrill.

The style of Theo Danella’s work is partly by hand, but this is by no means technology-abstinent. On the contrary! Despite references to the traditional painting contemporary aids, the world of color sometimes from the Flemish early Baroque, the grain here and there reminiscent of Gulbransson, show how the artist tries to be transported into the present. There are also scanned drawings in mimeographed ornamental arrangement in addition to digital sketches, and “mixed-media” and digital “computer painting” (the painting board under the “mouse-pen”) square. Painted beauties photographed before – “mounted” – garden fence. Collagen own drawings, integrated with vector-like graphics or images in the ink style.

For more information on his work please see: http://theo-danella.com/ and
http://www.danella.de/

Backward, Turn Backward

Quiet in this square, stained wallpaper room, haunting low-toned mirror and slow moving music dancing out the short ban radio. My mind seems easily to walk backwards the steps of years. Then profoundly reality is repeating my personal history with so many persons. I lived through their faces, voices, events like a movie. I do not need to meet them as they are today as some memories are sacred like fresh linen folded and put away like rivers to the sea like beach bone-dried sea shells waiting for generations to be collected. Remembered for what they were, and went like stamps on letters, traveled. Just to be put away in glass jars like red sweet jam held to sun light. You wonder beyond yourself and with those who knew you as they are constantly on edges, disappearing, again and again, taking a little of you with them as if until now you had never been here, hardly lived, even known by others today. Then fate like gravity soon  has its way of placing you alone in this room somewhere in this hour. And the mirror you look into is like an abstract image you cannot fix. Becoming more invisible  each time you take a peek. You hate to cut the lights off. Fearing next morning the mirror can no longer hold you. Its the quietness, isn’t it, that makes you think of these types of thoughts.

Stanley Noah has a BGS degree from the University of Texas at Dallas. He has been published in Verse Wisconsin, B.O.D.Y.,  Main Street Rag, South Carolina Review, Poetry Nottingham, and other  publications in the U.S.A., Britain, Canada, and New Zealand.

Lost Girl

The front door flung open. Big blonde Jim, his toothy grin and short round Mrs. Standler. Expectant.

“You must be Nelly. Come along. I’ll show you your room, it was just painted”, she said.

Sunlight flooded the narrow hall. The dark Victorian house. At the top of the stairs a yellow cream room. A view of the city and an especially good view of the apartment house across the way. Visible a family on their patio. Close. Nelly felt safe. The room like an attic with its octagonal shape and low ceiling.  Jim’s room next to hers crammed full of books.

“I’m studying for the bar, my third try,” confessed wide-open Jim.

Nelly immediately liked him, his broad smile.

She was in a hurry for success. No patience, peace, schooling or game plan. She started an array of odd jobs: disco dancing, hostessing, escort services, waiting tables. Nelly met many people in a hurry like herself. At the end of the day she related her adventures to long-suffering Jim and woebegone Nina , an alcoholic blonde on the 3^rd floor. Show and tell. Entertaining Nelly. She continually noticed the family in the apartment across the street playing games, standing close. She yearned, shrugged off empty and kept on with busy.

One night Nelly didn’t come home, nor the next, nor the next. The weeks and months passed and no word . Jim passed the bar and Nina stopped drinking. Wide eyed Jim and woebegone Nina grew inseparable. They got married. They moved into Nelly’s room, it was larger. She hoped they would.

Too ashamed to tell Jim and Nina she couldn’t pay the rent, she left.  Sleeping and eating were not daily events. Nelly made trouble. She wouldn’t go topless, perform sex acts, she mixed up customers’ drinks. Hunger pangs distracted her. She developed a food fixation and found that booze dulled the pangs. She was lost. There was a little church. Sometimes she sat on the steps for comfort. She never went inside. One night she did. Go inside. She wandered into the small church. She started going often for the calm, to see the pastor’s eyes. The see through pastor talked to Nelly softly. Like her mother when she read stories to her, a little girl. The pastor offered her a place. In return general housekeeping, cooking and eating. He suggested school, college, direction. Nelly got on track and figured out responsibility. New feelings came along with safe. Pride was one. She felt warm enough to think. Think about what she wanted. Wrapped in new possibilities, Nelly.

Originally published in Nashville Review and Shine Journal.

Neila Mezynski is author of Glimpses and A Story (2013) from Scrambler Books; pamphlets from Greying Ghost Press; echapbooks from Radioactive Moat Press and Patasola Press; chapbooks from Folded Word Press, Men Who Understand Girls (2012), Nap Chapbook, Floaters (2012); Deadly Chaps Press, Dancers On Rock (2011), Warriors (2013), Mondo Bummer, Meticulous Man (2012), Mud Luscious Press, and At The Beach (2011).

Ambien

If you had a car, you would drive to 7-Eleven and eat burritos with a construction worker named José. Instead you take another pill and drink a bottle of wine. Slip, sliding away to Paul Simon. Shave your head, just the sideburns. Then you let your wife find the razor and the empty bottle and the pink elephants dancing in tutus around the room singing, “After Midnight” to Clapton’s electric guitar. Light white candles and pray “Hail Mary” on your knees, slip sliding away and cursing your wife for an imagined infidelity. Face paint, hair clogging the bathroom sink, paella dumped on the kitchen floor, a cut that needs stitches, long distance calls, ants marching through cracks in the walls. Your wife calls the doctor to send for help, you dream that they haul you off to the loony bin.

Here you find peace, here you find redemption, here you find God.  Here you see your father who died, your brother who died, your sister who died, and they speak to you in tongues and you understand the meaning. Here is where you are, here is where you are lost, here is where you disconnect from your physical self and become an empty self, who no one understands, as if you’re speaking in tongues, the language of death, the language of a very deep sleep.

Claire’s poetry and photography have appeared in numerous journals and magazines. You can find her poetry in Thrush Poetry Journal, Blue Fifth Review, and Poetic Pinup Revue. Her photos can be found in Blue Print Review, Microw, Pirene’s Fountain, and Thumbnail Magazine, among others. She is also a contributor to the poetry anthology Point Mass by Kind of a Hurricane Press and the forthcoming Lummox 2.

Michael Xavier is an American underground author who writes of love and loss and all the things that matter. As someone who prefers to let his words speak for themselves there isn’t a lot known about the mysterious figure that is Michael Xavier. It is my pleasure it offer our readers a little more insight into the man behind the writings.

Can you tell us a little about yourself? Where are you from?

 I was born in a small mill-town in northern Idaho, at the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater rivers. I refer to my small town in many of my writings and the people I grew up around because I’ve traveled extensively and still haven’t found people quite like them. There is a heavy native American influence in northern Idaho, and though I haven’t been back in 25 years it’s never left me—from how I see the world in many ways and even down to the cadence in which I speak and write. When I travel, no one guesses where I’m from correctly. I like that.

 What were you like as a kid?

 I don’t know how to answer that except to say I was full of love despite not being loved.

Did you develop a love of words early on?

Words have always been a disease with me; I’m infected. They have controlled me through my addiction to them since I can remember. Whenever I read words that someone has put down in a particular order- no matter what the subject- there is a lightning bolt that fires through me. It is a palpable rush that I was struck by long ago and I wanted more- I still do. I am hunted by words- when they catch me, they devour most every synapsis of my brain. Until the story is on the paper. Until they are through. And with each story a new hunt begins.

Do you happen to remember what your very first favorite story was?

James and the Giant Peach and The Little Prince.

What do you love most about the act of writing?

You mean besides the drinking? (laughs) Writing is process, the discipline of writing. The act of writing. I have always been able to write, but when I discovered the process of writing I became a writer. There is so much that goes into that process for me. I study everything I can get my hands on- physics, religions (dogma), philosophy, mechanics- anything that I can pull apart and see how it works. If I can get my tiny brain to understand it, then it stays with me. It eventually comes out in my writing in ways that I’ve pitted it against my own experience; universal truths compared to my truth. When that happens and the words fall just so, I tend to believe in a certain form of magic. The words can’t come out fast enough, and as I’ve always said, they come from somewhere else—I am a simple conduit.

Were you surprised to see that your work has gained a somewhat of a cult following?

It is the best reward for any underground writer that lets their work speak for itself. I’m the luckiest bastard I know.

Do you enjoying writing things that make the reader feel deeply?

I enjoy that my work moves people deeply. It’s all I ever wanted; to find my tribe, the others like me. It is a common theme in my work and in my process. To move and be moved.

 Do you think feeling is widely overlooked in today’s hectic, fast paced world?

 No. But I believe that the time and silence it takes to delve into our feelings are lost in a million busy acts of self promotion. This modern culture we live in is not user friendly. It lures us into believing that we are not enough as we are and that where to be is more valuable than who we are with.

 Are there any little known things about you that your readers might be surprised to learn?

 I snore. Loudly. (references available upon request)

 You often write of love. What are your personal feelings on the matter?

 I have found that loyalty is more and more important to how I feel about love at any given moment. The love I write about in general is the love I hope to one day have. We will see how it all turns out, I suppose. But for me, and I suspect also others like me, have tasted the fickleness of what most call love. I am searching/writing about love that endures. It gives me hope when others read my words and say, “I feel this too.” It is a sort of communion. The best kind, if I may say. It is a kind of hope that is shared. Now what is more wonderful than that . . . . a collective well of hope to draw from.

What was the best advice anyone ever gave you? Who was it?

 “Mikey, If you kiss every girl on the block, no one’s going to wonder what it’s like to kiss you.” –Ron Alexander

He was one of a few adults I trusted as a young teen. He was a damn good man and I miss our talks while shooting hoops.

 What projects are you working on at the moment?

I have two books ready for publication: Heart Like A Hammer is a book of thoughts and prose. The second is a book of Novellas. I spent a lot of time editing Heart Like A Hammer, the manuscript started off with well over five hundred pages. I contemplated splitting it in to two separate books, but instead it will be most likely four hundred pieces placed in one of two chapters: Left ventricle/Right ventricle.

 What do you think is the key to a life well lived?

 Good friends. Good wine. Good conversation. Good food. (order optional depending on availability of each)

What are you feelings on death and such? How do you hope to be remembered when your time comes? What would you most like your last words to be?

I have lived longer than I, or anyone else that knows my past ever expected- every day is a chance to get it right, whatever that may be. I would like to be remembered for more than my writing, but if not I’m in my words so that’ll do just fine.

Last words will most likely be, “Darling, put the gun down, it isn’t that kind of night.”

 What is the one thing you’d most like to accomplish before your time is up?

 To be understood. Fully. . . . and to write a book in the south of France.

 Anything you would like to say in closing?

 Nothing that wouldn’t incriminate me further. It’s been a pleasure talking with you, and an honor to be interviewed by Van Gogh’s Ear.

For more information on his latest works please see: The Michael Xavier Fan Page

A Soul’s Quiet Reflection

Poised along the waters deep
Beneath the darkened sky
Silent thoughts though once asleep
Appear to wakened eyes

Reflections of a time not lost
Of sorrows,joy and pain
The lifelong lessons and the cost
And loved ones that remain

Kind words spoken years ago
Like diamonds in the night
Gives pause to the searching soul
Awaiting dawning light