Marigold was chosen as one of the 23 winners (out of about 500 entries!) for the 2010 Tucson Festival of Books Writing Contest for her story "Rubber Shoes".
Congratulations Grrl!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Violet's PSA
Violet's PSA from the fall workshop - check it out! And congratulations to all the grrls from the fall for a wonderful workshop, and a fantastic showcase!
Grrls Literary Activism / Violet's PSA from Jamie A. Lee on Vimeo.
Who Am I?
Mattea's video PSA from the fall workshop - check it out!
Grrls Literary Activism / Mattea's PSA from Jamie A. Lee on Vimeo.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Irrational as Pi
Miki's video PSA from the fall workshop - check it out!
Grrls Literary Activism / Miki's PSA from Jamie A. Lee on Vimeo.
Marigold's video PSA
Marigold' video PSA from the fall workshop - check it out!
Grrls Literary Activism / Marigold's PSA from Jamie A. Lee on Vimeo.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Map Poem by Robin
I was driving head first
Splashing in Villa Rica
When you caught me in your arms
Traveling up through Vester and Point Peter
Through the Appalachians to my Walnut Grove
You traveled along the 83
And landed somewhere between Roswell and Forest Park
You set up camp in Youth
Lingering on route 85
Sliding softly through the russet folds of Bethlehem
You clung tightly to Atlanta
The Only star in the sky
Your fingertips screaming as you dug through Washington
Yoking together two halves of one rocky mountain
You would spend the winter months
Swimming along the tips of Lincoln
Blue blue as the soft Braswell falls.
Your eyes still stinging
Drops of saltwater
A river, an ocean
The last traces of Madres
Come with me, sir, and we can camp
Hide along the coast
Find our palms in Atlanta
With summer’s sweet Zinnia’s behind Billarn
-Robin S.
Splashing in Villa Rica
When you caught me in your arms
Traveling up through Vester and Point Peter
Through the Appalachians to my Walnut Grove
You traveled along the 83
And landed somewhere between Roswell and Forest Park
You set up camp in Youth
Lingering on route 85
Sliding softly through the russet folds of Bethlehem
You clung tightly to Atlanta
The Only star in the sky
Your fingertips screaming as you dug through Washington
Yoking together two halves of one rocky mountain
You would spend the winter months
Swimming along the tips of Lincoln
Blue blue as the soft Braswell falls.
Your eyes still stinging
Drops of saltwater
A river, an ocean
The last traces of Madres
Come with me, sir, and we can camp
Hide along the coast
Find our palms in Atlanta
With summer’s sweet Zinnia’s behind Billarn
-Robin S.
Haiku by Robin
A summer apple
Round and full dripping sweet juice
Snap, fall, tumble. Rest.
River in a river
Lilypad meanders
Whooshing sweetly by
Swirl, swirl, stop
Lazy circles as it falls
Crunch underneath
Sunday afternoon
Cherry trees and lemonade
Sour, tart, stolen kiss
Eye lashes and lips
Shaved pits and period pants
A woman’s burden
I can’t hear you
Mr. Little Red Dot
I told you to stop stalking me
Pain as a color
Goddess Pose and tampax pearl
Jam out to Bob Dylan
-Robin S.
Round and full dripping sweet juice
Snap, fall, tumble. Rest.
River in a river
Lilypad meanders
Whooshing sweetly by
Swirl, swirl, stop
Lazy circles as it falls
Crunch underneath
Sunday afternoon
Cherry trees and lemonade
Sour, tart, stolen kiss
Eye lashes and lips
Shaved pits and period pants
A woman’s burden
I can’t hear you
Mr. Little Red Dot
I told you to stop stalking me
Pain as a color
Goddess Pose and tampax pearl
Jam out to Bob Dylan
-Robin S.
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