Spill

A while back I had the honour of having both a short story and a small book review published in the inaugural issue of The Bolo Tie Collective‘s annual anthology. While the book review takes a lighter approach to a local author’s short publication, the short story below casts a dark shadow on Edmonton’s 104th Avenue,Continue reading “Spill”

On Turning 30: Aging Between Friends with Amy Treeshin

In about four days, I’ll be turning 30. And while it’s bound to be strange, being told you’re going to do something your whole life only to actually do it, I can’t seem to place this wriggling feeling I have of wanting to sit down and really ask myself: what does this milestone even mean?  InContinue reading “On Turning 30: Aging Between Friends with Amy Treeshin”

Grave Subjects: Emily Storvold on Art, Death, and the Afterlife

Fun shapes, bold colours–certainly terms that describe the visual creations of Emily Storvold. Still, anyone close to her knows that under her more playful layer is a head brimming with philosophical rumination, and more specifically, rumination as it relates to existence. That’s probably why she reacted so positively when I found myself asking: “Hey, youContinue reading “Grave Subjects: Emily Storvold on Art, Death, and the Afterlife”

The Artist’s Lot

“…round…around…around…red, on black, on blue…”  The old painter-woman pauses, her attention listing to the juicy black fly that buzzes around the sweltering, wallpapered room where she lay. She does not watch the fly—cannot, in her growing blindness—but lolls with it, following the sound as it moves from the outer edges of the room’s damp wallsContinue reading “The Artist’s Lot”

Lemon

At first there’s no warmth. Only the hot black pain of frostbite. Then like a shock, the blankness ends again and I feel my skin start to thaw, my blood slowly pulsing through veins that had almost forgotten how to push it.  I pull past the glue of long-closed eyelids only to find the sameContinue reading “Lemon”