Published on Mondays, with columns by Artist and Writer. Published since 2002, an Ocean and Pounds publication


Poem a Week
by Gary Michael Dault

The Waters of the Afterlife

I swam
for an hour
in the waters
of the afterlife
and found
the waves
dry like

what beaded
on my skin
were discs
of salt

my footprints
as I walked
from shore
were a chain
of small fires



Caffeine Reveries
by Shelley Savor

Solo Swim Before The Rain

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Lee Ka-sing - The Second-Read and other Negotiation Matters / Holly Lee - New Wine Old Wine Fine Wine, Sushi Grass in Paradise (#64)



by Cem Turgay


by Kai Chan

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Cai Guo-Qiang (2008)
[Cai Guo-Qiang], Phaidon, 2002



Located on the second floor of an art space, INDEXG Bed and Breakfast has 4 guest rooms, all with ensuite bathroom. Since 2008, INDEXG B&B have served curators, artists, art-admirers, collectors and professionals from different cities visiting and working in Toronto.

50 Gladstone Ave, Toronto



Some Trees
by Malgorzata Wolak Dault


Number 31

There is a book Gary has been trying to get me to read for fifteen years. I've finally come to it and it is a delight.

The book is by W.J.C. Murray and is a scruffy little volume published in England in 1954 by The Country Book Club.

It's called A Sanctuary Planted and it recounts how, beginning while The Battle of Britain flashed and screamed overhead, Murray began turning a few acres of land in Sussex into a Sanctuary--almost as retaliation for the war. The sanctuary would be home to all of the trees, shrubs, flowers, animals, birds and insects Murray could collect or otherwise encourage to live and thrive in his hallowed place.

Trees were of great importance to him.

He writes that for him, the meaning of a tree is "permanence of place, constancy in being, the destiny to stand and serve, to rest in massive strength, to stand and wait, to endure to the end, unmoved, to abide undaunted through all frosts and storms, rains and tempest, light and darkness, year by year, century by century...."

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Travelling Palm Snapshots
by Tamara Chatterjee

Madagascar (March, 2010) – I wandered through the small factory, watching as the large squad processed tobacco leaves for cigarettes. Milling about the massive horde of freshly dried leaves was the equivalent of the water cooler gang, their offspring playing about with remnants of factory parts and scrap foliage. It was a visible space which included preschool teachings; haphazard chalk doodles evident on the workshop window shutters.

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From the Notebooks (2010-2020)
by Gary Michael Dault

From the Notebooks, 2010-2020.
Number 42: Dr. Sax (June 10, 2011)

Dr. Sax is masked--as we all are now--but Dr. Sax, the amiably eerie, ordering presence in Jack Kerouac's 1959 novel, has been masked all through the 1940s, like his fictional and cinematic forerunner, The Shadow. Dr. Sax is the essence of boyhood mysterium: "His laughter," writes Kerouac, "is hidden in the black hoods of the darkness where you can suck him up with air, the glee of the night in kids is a message from the dark...."

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by Fiona Smyth

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Published on Mondays
with columns by Artist and Writer
ISSN 1918-6991
Published since 2002, an Ocean and Pounds publication


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