Her girlish yawps cascade from Soldier’s Pond as water subverts ice. Is this like flying?
An essay + soundscape about being on the water.
Rain below the shell and my two hands pushing us into the gloaming
“I Am Full of the Sea,” a composition by Liam Elliott, a Canadian artist currently working at Princeton University (https://www.liamelliotmusic.com/), based on poems he found in my Chance Encounters with Wild Animals (Gaspereau Press, 2019) and recordings he heard here on curiaudio.com. (This is a real joy to share. A million thanks to Liam and…
Waves shush the cobble as night settles. Delilah stands at the bedside, glinting.
Newfoundland & Labrador’s Pedlar Press recently held a Salon in St. John’s where the topic of discussion was writing across literary genres. Three Pedlar authors discussed their practices, specifically in writing for the stage. Sara Tilley (author of the novels Skin Room and Duke) read from her play Red or White, which she has completed,…
Poetry! A reading by Agnes Walsh, Kim Fahner and Monica Kidd took place at Broken Books in St. John’s, on May 15, 2019. The evening was hosted by Angela Antle. Agnes Walsh read from Oderin (Pedlar Press, 2018), Sudbury poet Kim Fahner read from These Wings ((Pedlar Press, 2019), and Monica Kidd, who splits her…
One of the best things about heading to the cabin in the summer is the opportunity to stop and be still. For Monica Kidd, that also means listening to the soundscape that underscores time spent at her family’s cabin in the Bay of Exploits. Here is a soundscape she produced featuring the sounds of making…
Look out to Exploits, the sun setting at your back. Stay with me. It’s yours. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Hold the book, let your eyes run. There are worlds in here — lift them from the page. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Rocker-bottom pot rattles and rolls, the morning percussed by oatmeal. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Chop your wood t’will warm you twice; then bake your bread and warm you thrice. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
A dead whale and man and his crackie complain about the cost of things. A truck coughs down Marine Drive. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
(Thanks to Curiaudio follower Tara Bryan for submitting this found sound from Newfoundland’s west coast!) CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Foghorn: black velvet, heaven on a gurney. Timber collapsing under the weight of time. Sapling, swaying softly, green. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
thirty-three and a third times round, the needle in the groove hiccups with the freeze-thaw of another trip round the sun. no names here, only the raucous jumble of ages. eat your heart out, springsteen. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Flour, yeast, salt, sky. Three babies tucked into bed and bread rising in the wood stove. Give us this day. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Two feet past the busy woodpile, Igor’s fury and the stillness that reigned after the trees cracked. The baby restless. The rampage. A bucket and all it could hold. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
This time and these stars and this smoke rising. Your hands on the girl and her hands on stone, the night so black the sound travels years to meet itself at the start. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
Plunge and pull, your paddle the best of you, your arms reaching — elbow, wrist, fist — into the black. And the boat cuts on. CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN