creativity
“I don’t know what to do about it,” an essay by Laura Bernstein-Machlay.

“I don’t know what to do about it,” an essay by Laura Bernstein-Machlay.

On passing time in Detroit. “I’m so sorry, I whisper to the silence all around.” Monet, The artist’s garden at Giverny, 1900. This feature is available, in slightly different format, on Medium, here. Where I live, COVID-19 has landed like a tornado. It staggers and sways through Detroit and beyond, so everyone deemed nonessential stays under cover when...
“Time Slowing Down,” an essay by Karen Sullivan.

“Time Slowing Down,” an essay by Karen Sullivan.

“Civilized time has always felt bottled, and now it’s not.” Once, deep in an Alaskan winter in the abyss of a post-divorce-induced depression, I spent an entire Saturday sitting in the living room of my rented postwar cottage, rocking absentmindedly in a creaky chair, dog in my lap, staring through small frosted windowpanes at feathers of...
“Quarantine Dreams and Jacob’s Ladder”: from the studio of Amie Oliver.

“Quarantine Dreams and Jacob’s Ladder”: from the studio of Amie Oliver.

Painting her way through a pandemic. April 14, 2020 I am more grateful than ever to have the time and space in which to escape the current situation. The Art Lab in Richmond, Virginia, is the best medicine for me. Everything is as I leave it there. A continuum exists in that space where I can...
Desperate times, new measures: Introducing Broad Street's Pandemic Blog.

Desperate times, new measures: Introducing Broad Street’s Pandemic Blog.

. We feel the need to do something. We make masks, we donate money, and still our spirits yearn for more. Solidarity and company, the companionship of … what we have, which is a computer screen, where most of us are glued all day and night. But there are people behind the screens, and they’re...
“Pandemic Vices,” a memoir by Colleen Curran.

“Pandemic Vices,” a memoir by Colleen Curran.

Aspirations become fixations. “I won’t die,” I tell him. “Not for a long, long time. Not until you’re ready.” Photographs by the author. It felt strange at first. Novel. To be alive in the time of a crisis, a pandemic, a real-life Day of the Dead, only different. This one a silent stalker, marked by a dry...