The Fall made me willing. Not just for him but for all of it. For the giggling and the grabbing and the colors we kicked all over the park. And for the chit chat at the kitchen table when five o’clock lingered into evening like the disappearing smoke of a snuffed-out match. Bobby watched the drop of fire on the candlewick flicker and interrupted me when it held still. How strange, he said, look. Look at that. The flame looks smooth like water… Like water running over a worn-out stone. He leaned toward me to light a cigarette on the candle and blew smoke in my eyes. Cut the shit, Bobby, I said. You know my Daddy used to do that before he’d burn me. His five o’clock shadow stood on end like an angry porcupine’s quills. “Don’t bring your lousy life in here,” he said.

Culinary Art by June Pagan

The alarm blares talk-radio.You fumble and turn it off , your blurry eyes adjust and see red digits floating in darkness… 3:45. No amount of money seems worth this suffering, but you dutifully dump coffee down your throat and shower and dress. Sunset Blvd. rolls out before you, empty and peaceful.

Bootsy [Forth Photographer] and I got to Pete’s Coffee on Main Street early to set up. There is a hidden jewel of a courtyard, with a giant mobile dangling overhead directly behind the java house. The complex is called the Edgewood Center – complete with a performance art studio, Wine Bar, and a new crafts workspace called The Urban Craft Shop, where you can rent time to sew on their machines, knit or do whatever floats your boat starting at $6.00 an hour. So get your art on and check it out.

“Obama Roach” by Adam Tan