Radical Romance: Shutter/ Julia Wendell

“I paint myself because I am so often alone and because I am the subject I know best.”  Frida Kahlo

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Black Mourning: Let Our Grief Be Our Own

We must let our grief and our celebration, our individual experience, be our own. Because given the voice to speak our own way, we all have something distinct to say about our collective history and future…

Radical Romance: Realities/ C.D. Sorrell

  Wool jacket fastened halfway up, buttons catching the light like June Bugs Drawing close, he whispers like a branch, one leaf rubbing another Home comes through in the ripples in the lake as the cool wind brings me back Summer in Razliv with the founder, the radical, the will-be revolutionary He speaks words like…

Radical Romance: Dear Emma Goldman/ A. Jancewicz

My front garden will be full of daffodils. I will hang a black flag from the porch. You could read Kropotkin out loud to the children before bed. No matter my exhortations, they still ask for princes.