ORANGES & SARDINES!

I'm honored and purrrr-ed to see Galatea Resurrects and Meritage Press mentioned in the "Letter from the Publisher" for a new literary/arts journal, ORANGES & SARDINES, Vol. I, Issue 1, Summer 2008:

"...publishers like Reb Livingston, Eileen Tabios, Shanna Compton and many others are forming the path to what we really need. We are moving as far as the internet will take us with as many mediums available to us to get your poetry and art represented while finding new audiences to expose it to. We are setting the stage for others to follow. Welcome to the new small press movement..."
--Didi Menendez in "The New Small Press Movement"

Isn't that lovely! It is!

Last but not least, do check out Oranges & Sardines! It's a faboo publication, in part for its Q&As with visual artists. Here are two answering the same two questions:

JEFF FILIPSKI
How does a concept for a painting come to you?
I get thought dysentery and I need to purge. I conceive of an idea. Sometimes I thumbnail it in my notebooks. Sometimes it is simply action streaming depending on what type of music I’m listening to, maybe some manic foible of day to day life. I agonize over which part of the vortext I most currently occupy…

Would you make love on a freshly painted canvas?
This is contingent on whether I’m alone or with somebody, though in the past it has never really mattered.


MARCIA MOLNAR
How does a concept for a painting come to you?
I never know what will hit me or when, but when it does, it burns a hole in my brain until I get it on canvas. I spend a lot of time in the great outrdoors getting off the beaten path. At times, my world seems a abstact arrangement of colors, texture, line and movement as I hold a rose to the light, stalk the moon or wait for sundown with a storm rolling in.

Would you make love on a freshly painted canvas?
No. Oil paints are too toxic and hard to get off!

And there's more in the journal, of course, including Poetry! The first couplet in Steffi Drewes’ poem “Meet me in Marin” made me laugh:

Dear, what have the bridges
done to your eyes? Let me drive.