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Calabrian Chronicles: Caulonia outside the walls – The Story of Mimmo and Peppe’s Ovile

In the spaces between the rains the sky runs and falls; gathers itself and plunges again towards the sea. Cumulonimbus titans strike their shins on the horizon line as they stumble through the Mediterranean, dead drunk and anxious to reach Ithaca. This is a place where mothers still name their sons Ulysses. The houses are… Continue reading Calabrian Chronicles: Caulonia outside the walls – The Story of Mimmo and Peppe’s Ovile

Caulonian Suite: III. Piazza della Carmine / The Two Times

PIAZZA DELLA CARMINE / THE TWO TIMES AT 7:30 TONIGHT: Unable to traverse the swallow’s path Or tread roof tiles as the agile cat, upon his brothers’ labouring backs A polychrome Christ will make a rough pilgrimage of His own; Pillar bound, to that church above from this one below. Square-shouldered, tow-haired nine-year old will… Continue reading Caulonian Suite: III. Piazza della Carmine / The Two Times

Caulonian Suite: II. Caulonia Supriore

Originally posted on Bonnie McClellan-Broussard:
CAULONIA SUPERIORE for Matthew The sky roils; swallows knit webbed gyres among the baroque sag of rooftops. Across the way they’re fixing one; new russet barrel tiles sealed over old timber bones. I hear a sound like the pounding Of a battering ram or the cleaving Of an immense stump…

Caulonian Suite: II. Caulonia Supriore

CAULONIA SUPERIORE for Matthew The sky roils; swallows knit webbed gyres among the baroque sag of rooftops. Across the way they’re fixing one; new russet barrel tiles sealed over old timber bones. I hear a sound like the pounding Of a battering ram or the cleaving Of an immense stump Contrapunted with a loud HUP.… Continue reading Caulonian Suite: II. Caulonia Supriore

Calabrian Chronicles: Caulonia, and so we begin…

It’s still incredibly beautiful here. I forgot. In the spaces between the rains the sky runs and falls; gathers itself and plunges again towards the sea. Cumulonimbus titans strike their shins on the horizon line as they stumble through the Mediterranean, dead drunk and anxious to reach Ithaca. This is a place where mothers still… Continue reading Calabrian Chronicles: Caulonia, and so we begin…

Calabrian Chronicles: The Ovile of Mimmo and Peppe – The Final Chapter

A rooster crows, where is the sound coming from? Robin wants to find it. We wander and talk, Matthew’s work day will start soon, we put our feet on the path to go up, to say thank you and goodbye. The three men stand on the side porch. Peppe holds his hand up in warning, his whole body says don’t let the child see: Gianni has brought the stranger to buy a kid, they are slaughtering it, for Easter.

Two things I love about my kitchen

This is my kitchen counter, I love it. It’s a 2″ thick slab of bardiglio marble that we brought with us from Cararra. It’s polished on one side but the surface was straight from the big cutting machine so it undulates a bit. The piece is a scrap that was left over from the memorial… Continue reading Two things I love about my kitchen