Life & Arts

Entertainment, live performance, food, cuisine, dining, theater, film, television, art, broadcasting, SXSW, and other arts and culture news in and around Austin and the Central Texas counties of Travis, Hays, Caldwell, Bastrop and Williamson

Our Wings of Freedom

Apr 30, 2015

I yell to the kings

On behalf of the people who lost their light

Please, don't clip our wings!


Apr 30, 2015

I feel the cool mist against my face

The ocean speaks to me

The beach, my peaceful place

The Inviso-Spell

Apr 30, 2015


Dash of nutmeg,

Clip of unicorn hair,

An inch of slimy toad skin (the best you can find)

Squirt of pickle juice,

Rover’s Sister

Apr 30, 2015

Her eyes are chocolaty hazelnut brown

Her fur a mixed brown with black

But it’s not her looks;

What’s got us is how she acts!

Of the Hour, Again

Apr 30, 2015

It is twelve o’ clock -

Cinderella’s time.

She has to go.

It’s of the hour, again.

Little Red Riding Hood

meets the wolf

at four o’ clock.

It’s of the hour, again.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

lets down her hair

at one o’ clock.

It’s of the hour, again.

When mother stops telling me stories

And I stop listening,

It’s nine o’ clock

and it’s of the hour, again.


Apr 30, 2015

Writing isn’t my “thing” -

Never has been, never will be.

My writing has never been chosen,

Never been read.

My writing is okay,

Just not good

And certainly not great.

Yet every time I write,

I always leave

A little of my heart out on the page.

It’s not just about putting words on a page

for English class

or a history essay.

It’s about reaching for the best in people,

It cheers me up when I’m down.

My words tell stories.

My writing isn’t always chosen,

Or read,


Apr 30, 2015

I laugh at the face,

that makes me feel sad,

saying, “It’s nothing,

I don’t feel bad.”

But really,

I let my feelings sink down inside,

Is there anything

I don’t have to hide?

I need some understanding,

Some help overcoming

these confusing feelings.


Apr 30, 2015

Snuggled up in bed

She's sitting right next to me,

Her smile contagious.

She kisses me on the forehead,

The tide of give and take

Apr 30, 2015

Through shallow abundance you waste happily

Patchy spritzers flowing leaving lawns soaked

America, douses in apathy


Apr 30, 2015

My most heroic supporter

Is my bra

A large woman

Black and dressed in lace

And bows

She is gentle

But will hurt me with her wiry sass

If disrespected

She is by my side when I walk down the street

But she has no patience for jumping and jogging

And we quickly part when my home is reached

She is uptight when I break the bonds of social norms

Balancing my adventurous nature

With her stern embrace

But even through our tiffs

I know I can depend on her

My Sonnet to Dreams

Apr 30, 2015

Dreams, you hollow, heartless, callous creature

Dark, twisted land of human mind you dwell

Friendship Withered

Apr 30, 2015

Friendship withers like a flag in a violent storm on the beach

It begins to tear into small pieces of worthless cloth floating through the air alone


Apr 29, 2015




I am a tree;


My leaves, the shifting thoughts in my brain



Apr 29, 2015

Housing the memories of past injuries

They lie against the grey wall

Not in use…….at the moment

The Deeper Meaning of Basketball

Apr 28, 2015

All I hear—

the pounding sound of leather on wood,

the smooth as silk swoosh of the ball

going in the basket that drowns out the cheering crowd.

This is basketball.

Questions that lead to no answers. Wounds that never quite heal. The unhinged time of tragedy and grief. The soft, relentless whispering of the abused, the murdered, the lost. This is the world of Scott Blackwood.

Scott Blackwood is one of the most lyrical of modern American writers. His prose rings with poetry. His work explores community, grief, and the secrets that run through our lives.

In this edition of The Write Up, Blackwood talks about his new novel See How Small and explains why he is drawn to this story and the harrowing task of researching it. With a careful balance of compassion and curiosity, Blackwood reached out to many of the people connected to the actual murders including family members and first responders. Blackwood’s goal in this novel, and in all his work, is to recover lost voices.


Apr 28, 2015


After Glenn Ligon’s Untitled artwork at the Blanton Museum of Art

Writing is hard,

shimmery words,

Austin Translation is the new mainstage show at ColdTowne Theater. Produced and directed by Second City alum Dave Buckman, the show was created using the Second City method; over the past couple of months, Austin Translation cast members brought in ideas, worked on them together through improvisation, and then chose the best of the best to craft into scripted sketches.

Jeremy Fuksa/flickr

Four years ago, non-native Austinite Jim Ritts thought it was time the Live Music Capital of the World had its own comedy festival.

“It’s a phenomenal festival town,” he says, and he figured that Austin could make room for a fest devoted solely to comedy. What with the recent “comedy renaissance” and the strong local comedy scene in Austin, he felt like the timing was perfect to launch the Moontower Comedy & Oddity Festival, which is taking place now through Saturday around town.

Kevin O. Moone

On this edition of In Black America, producer/host John L. Hanson Jr. speaks with Janet Cheatham Bell, author, editor and publishing consultant.

After graduating from Indiana University in 1964, Bell began her professional career as a high school librarian in Saginaw, Michigan. In early 1968 she accepted a position at the Ohio University Library in Athens. A few months later, in the wake of student responses to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, the university recruited her to teach freshman composition and African American literature.