Summer
byMixed media with fiber, textile, hand-stitched batik cloth, beads, hand-made or found objects.
Three Rivers
Healing our blindness
byAs I write, I’m sitting in my living room watching football on a Sunday evening. I just finished eating a meal made with organic…
How to tell when it’s winter in a Michigan farmhouse
byThe years have a way of making technology lose its bluster. And so do the centuries. When our southern Michigan farmhouse was built, the…
A time to grieve
byAt the first signs of decline, I saw the illusion I’d buried in the depths of my subconscious float to the surface: I had…
A woman for all seasons: An interview with Kate Lind
byPut her down at any point in history and Kate Lind would not only survive, but thrive (though in the Middle Ages they’d probably…
A river gone wild in the city
bye live in two worlds, writes Minnesota poet Tom Hennen. The first includes “airplanes and power plants, all the machinery that surrounds us, the…
Abbey Cemetery
byfor Kilian McDonnell, OSB This gentle hill heaves, pushing up crenellations— those markers of surrendered life secured even in death. A phalanx of gray…
Loser
byor the inaugural issue of Topology Magazine, our editorial board thought it would be fitting to set the tone with a consideration of various…
On the road again
byYou pass through places, and places they pass through you, But you carry ‘em with you on the soles of your travelin’ shoes. The Be…
Time’s Trash Gyre
byWork the land long enough, and you become aware of the kelp-like waves of crops advancing and retreating across the face of the earth….