B Side Magazine

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MAGAZINE issue #1 - premier issue!

Bellingham

Girls Rock Camp

Immaculate Flave Hot Damn Scandal Poetry Night

Jazz

By Nick Gendreau

Blue, blue horn Wail a sad sentence Cuz a blue, blue piano Shuffles cooly on the sidewalk

The time drifts by on the whirring rush Now with monthly B Side showcases! featuring delicious drinks specials killer karaoke music video night singer / songwriter nights and all the local bands you can shake a stick at

OPEN FROM 3PM TO 2AM

Of a brush on a snare; no carin’ As you and I get on by dancin’ All night in our red, red shoes Lady sings the blues Into a tin can Rattles the red bones Of the old, skinny trombone man B SIDE

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warning : contents may shift during flight

letter from the editor 6

tipsy american gypsy blues

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NEOGLYPHIC MEDIA

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Blah blah blah something about Hot Damn Scandal

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We do this because we believe in the connective power of the arts.

masta x-kid & the immaculate flave movement

Whether we are journalistically covering an event, an art gallery or an up-and-coming band, we at B Side always ask one all-important question: How would the artist like to be represented? This question is how we determine what we can do to meet each artist’s specific needs. No one artist has the exact same needs as another. Maintaining the necessary resources and relationships to keep your project moving forward can be tricky. This is why we offer journalistic coverage to independent artists by means of music news, show calendars, album reviews and artist features. B Side also provides services in concert booking, networking, event planning and much, much more. The repertoire grows with each new collaboration.

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the art of justin thomas

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a blip in time with mike mcgee Stuff about this too slkfjoifajeoigjojgaoeaeoief

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JUNIPER STILLS

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EVERY CHILD CAN THE SUZUKI METHOD

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF CHANDRA JOHNSON Stuff about this too slkfjoifajeoigjojgaoeaeoief

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champlin guitars

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TEACH ME HOW TO OLIO Stuff about this too slkfjoifajeoigjojgaoeaeoief

how to live in a musical town Stuff about this too slkfjoifajeoigjojgaoeaeoief

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bellingham girls rock camp Stuff about this too slkfjoifajeoigjojgaoeaeoief

rock against racism Stuff about this too slkfjoifajeoigjojgaoeaeoief

short story : the pane of gregory ocean Stuff about this too

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short story : year of the snake Stuff about this too

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local events Mob Roll & Poetry Night

featured comics meet the b side staff Stuff about this too slkfjoifajeoigjojgaoeaeoief

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B Side Magazine is more than just a start-up publication. It’s the culmination of the creative forces of an entire artistic community. Musicians, designers, photojournalists, poets, painters and more have answered the call to create a collaborative platform big enough for all of them to be heard, seen and appreciated in the true spirit of Northwest art culture.

With this in mind, we try to lend our experience, our network and our direct assistance to talented artists that understand the value of collaborative creation.

Often this comes in the form of a review article. Other times it comes in the form of a show offer. Sometimes there are even more creative ways to work together. We’ve found new members for bands. We’ve introduced musicians to their new producers. We strive to do everything we can to orient you within your artistic community, no matter how big or small you are. It all comes back to creative collaboration, in which we place our faith wholeheartedly.

This is an invitation to add your voice to a growing crowd of Northwest artists.

Comprised of more than a dozen dedicated volunteers and an extensive network of freelancers, the B Side staff is a wildly talented group of young creators and I am so thankful for each and every one of them. With the bulk of our collective experience in musical performance, production and networking, we have a true “by the artist, for the artist” endeavor.

By drawing upon the existing tight-knit communities Bellingham already knows and loves, we hope to connect social groups that have not previously collaborated with one another in the hopes that mutualistic relationships will emerge. In many ways it is happening now, with deeply satisfying results.

So without further a do, I am proud to introduce to you after months of planning, content creating and networking, the first issue of B Side Magazine.

I hope you find something that resonates with you and that you are reminded of the wonderfully creative world in which you live.

Nick Gendreau

ABOUT

staff

B Side Magazine is Bellingham’s new quarterly music, arts and literature magazine dedicated to empowering the arts through journalism.

Editor-In-Chief NICK GENDREAU

legal mumbo-jumbo

Copy Editor BEN GAMMAN

B Side Magazine accepts no responsibilities for unsolicited manuscripts, photos, art or other materials. Most of the writing in B Side Magazine is submitted work, and so the views expressed by writers or reporters do not necessarily reflect the views of B Side Magazine. In the interest of free speech, writing and art submissions remain uncensored.

CONTACT US For Advertising Information: Send questions, offers, or materials to BSIDEBUSINESS@GMAIL.COM Prices and info listed online at BELLINGHAMBSIDE.WIX.COM/BSIDE

SUBMISSIONS / PARTICIPATION Let us know what you’re making! Be a part of a team that supports local music! Send us your questions, art submissions, photos, music or bio to THEBSIDE.BHAM@GMAIL.COM Follow us on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Wordpress and online at BELLINGHAMBSIDE.WIX.COM/BSIDE

SPECIAL THANKS B Side Magazine would not have been possible without the contributions and collaboration of every artist, writer, musician and business that has given us their generous support. Thank you everyone that has helped us get off the ground!

Music Editor GARRET HENDRICKS Managing Editor GLEN TOKOLA Contributing Writers HALEE H MIKEY MOORE PETE IRVING JOE MILLER AARON NEWSOM RYAN SCHAFER LIBBY KELLER SARAH COVERT-BOWLDS NICHOLAS GENDREAU Head of Media JESSE NICHOLS Contributing Photographers HANNAH HAYES CHANEL RETASKET THADIUS HINK PETER IRVING LIBBY KELLER Creative Director TIM MECHLING Designer MANDY CRAMER Media & Promotion AARON NEWSOM ROBIN SCHWINDT AUDRA HOWERTON VICTOR SIMPSON B SIDE

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tipsy american gypsy blues a sit down with pete haugerud of hot damn scandal “Being very conscious what sounds cool to you is the most important part of music.” So are the words of Pete Haugerud one of the brilliant and dynamic members of Bellingham’s Hot Damn Scandal. For the past two years Pete and the rest of the band have plied their trade throughout the Bellingham music scene, charming audiences with their rootsy swagger and masterful musicianship. But the question remains, what makes this band and Pete tick? How has Pete Haugerud become one of the most revered songwriters in the Bellingham music community?

One can trace Pete’s musical journey all the way back to his troubadour youth. Although he was encouraged to pursue music from a young age, it wasn’t until he was travelling on the road in his late teens that music became truly his calling. “It wasn’t until I dropped out of school and started traveling on the road and thought, “oh I’m an ignorant seventeen year old with no idea of what I’m doing with my life. I guess I should start sitting on a street corner playing guitar, because that’s what I’ve seen other people do.”

But music became much more than just a way to earn a buck for Pete. As he played more and more the better he became and started attracting a lot of ears to his music. It 6

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became quickly apparent that music was the defining part of his life. “It started making a lot of sense and after about two years I had developed enough to where people sought me out because they wanted to play music with me, and I just fell in love with it.”

Hot Damn Scandal came out of these collaborations and experiences on the road. Soon the group found its way to Bellingham where it has taken on many incarnations.

With the band Pete’s songwriting expanded into intricate weavings of musical phrases and gritty yet poetic lyrics.

This became the most enjoyable part of music for Pete, the ability to mold together a piece of art from little or nothing.

“I get an idea, a riff on the guitar, a word and I would like to see it come to completion. I get my biggest satisfaction by taking something that didn’t exist and bringing it to a place where it can be heard and appreciated.” And appreciated the songs of Hot Damn Scandal are.

The sound of the band is self-described as, “tipsy American gypsy blues,” incorporating various styles into one ear pleasing plethora. A casual listener will certainly recognize Pete and the band’s instrumental and lyrical prowess, but

if one chooses to listen more attentively the genius level of the group becomes apparent. Pete doesn’t create songs out of emotions as is effective for most songwriters. Instead he uses music and lyrics to create emotions in himself and for the listener. “I’m just going to write until I can create a strong emotion for myself. I’m not trying to grab a strong emotion from myself and expose it to the world. I’m just trying to find what makes me tick.” In creating emotions out of his music, Pete has evolved into a meticulous craftsman, molding lyrics around intricate and methodical instrumental sections.

“I’ve always been a composer. My solos are composed for the most part. They start as improvised chunks and whittle them down into the important pieces. I hear where there is space and where there are things missing and I can tell when something sounds complete.”

Part of making a complete sound for Pete has involved finding the right musicians to play the wrong sounds. Such has been the case with violinist, Chandra Johnson, who was found through Western Washington University’s music department. Pete knew Chandra would take the songs of Hot Damn Scandal to new and exciting places because of how well Western trains their musicians. “The Western music scene how I see it is a bunch of really talented clay, a bunch of people who are really into music and (although I’m only seeing one side of it) a lot of people who would like outlets beyond the orchestral, the top tier jazz, backing musicals and scoring soundtracks and would like a little bit of that good ole’ rock n’ roll stage experience.” But being a well-trained musician is only part of the equation for Pete.

Being able to experiment and break some of the rules to find new sounds. “We joke that we had to break her

(Chandra) of some of her classical training. What I want is against what most people think good music is in the first place. Desiring that against the grain style and challenge may be what inspires people to want to come play our style of music. I want it to sound not good the right way.”

Pete’s desire for unorthodox sounds has also led him to push his own boundaries as well. In recent months Pete has explored outside of acoustic based music. “Acoustic music has become the style I’m most comfortable playing in it’s something that I really hope to begin shedding soon. I don’t want to give it up but I want to expand my reach to play electric soon. I know the value of real strings and real imperfection as imperfection is always necessary and the closer you get to the acoustic original version of where those sounds are coming from the more of that natural beautiful imperfection comes about. But there’s only so much you can do with an instrument to shape the tone of the sound, it’s in a smaller spectrum than with an electric instrument. This is why I want to experiment with electric sounds. But I don’t want to get rid of my old tools, I just want to get a bigger toolbox.”

It is this kind of willingness to embrace change and push the envelope that has made Pete and Hot Damn Scandal so successful. It is also what makes Hot Damn Scandal’s songs so resonant to so many people. Each song creates a different emotion for this listener while still fitting into the paradigm of Hot Damn Scandal. This dynamic ability to connect with a broad range of people shows that Pete and Hot Damn Scandal are creating music that will stand the test of time.

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Patrons of the Bellingham Alternative Library know that it houses the largest selection of graphic novels in Bellingham. I was sitting at the Alternative Library checkout desk across from Cullen Beckhorn, better known to many Bellinghamsters as Futureman. Few have ventured into the Library Store in the back room and investigated the selection of independent comics found there, many of which were printed by Neogylyphic Media, the independent graphic media publication house of which Beckhorn is the founder.

The subject of our discussion was Neoglyphic media, as well as its underlying philosophy. “While the focus is on cartoon and comic book art, I’m trying to keep it open and be able to expand beyond that, and experiment more with the form of books, and also produce things that are art objects of other sorts,” Beckhorn said. “Or even go as far out as producing a record that has really elaborate artistic packaging.”

Neoglyphic is a word invented by Beckhorn. It means “new picture stories,” and it is a name designed to invoke a sense of primitive consciousness. “If you look at child art it’s entirely symbolic and representational. It’s meant to represent their environment and how they understand the world, not what it actually looks like, and I think that’s the power of comics and cartooning and taking advantage of that as a communication medium is where the future of print media really lies,” Beckhorn said. The idea is that each of us is born with an instinctual response to symbolic images, therefore we relate well to visual narratives where the art is representational, not necessarily realistic. “[Neoglyphic is] a word that I invented trying to think about my goals as a publisher in developing new language and furthering the role of comics in popular narrative.”

Inspired by publishers like Picturebox and Lamono Books, Beckhorn decided to form his own small press organization to promote talented and innovative artists without the means to get their work out into the world.

Even if this can be accomplished, Beckhorn pointed out a general lack of public recognition, even in mainstream comics. “Marvel is owned by Disney now. Disney’s this massive marketing mega-corporation but still a lot of people don’t realize that comics are being produced.” This lack of awareness may be due to the way comics have

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been marketed, said Beckhorn, and that there’s a really strange attitude towards comic books in the last twenty years that makes the medium inaccessible.

On Free Comic Book Day last May, Neoglyphic Media released the first issue of Emergence, a fledgling newspaper of which Beckhorn is the editor. “The first issue was all about dramatic, large images and was kind of minimalist in terms of design really,” Beckhorn said, “and the next issue is looking to take a kind of different approach, more people involved and a lot of smaller artwork, and different styles of design, almost resembling a typical newspaper but still being largely focused on art.” The next issue will be released in November, in time for the Shortrun Comics Festival in Seattle, and the Brooklyn Comics and Graphics Festival, both of which Beckhorn attended last year and plans to attend again.

According to Beckhorn, if each of us bought a comic every month, the comics industry would be completely different. It would reflect the tastes of the overall public, instead of being catered toward a collector’s mentality.

We live in a strange time in which things are mass-produced, and to the average consumer, nothing appears

valid without a factory stamp on it. “A lot of comic book stores don’t even recognize small press work as valid because they don’t have customers asking for it, and it becomes this cycle where people don’t know that something exists because the bookstore doesn’t carry it, but the bookstore doesn’t carry it because no one ever asks for it, and it doesn’t make up a large portion of their sales,” Beckhorn explained to me.

It’s common knowledge that the mainstream comics market is dominated by major factions Marvel and DC. These industry giants put out mostly superhero comics, targeting a specific audience of collectors. This collectors’ attitude gives mainstream graphic novels a novelty value rather than a literary or artistic one, and consequently makes comics seem inaccessible to many people.

Beckhorn closed the interview with a comment on the prevalent attitude toward local art. “If someone’s taking the time to write something, and you care about that person, you should read what they have to say, not just for their sake, but for your sake as well. Most likely you’re going to be able to relate to that more than the new James Patterson novel or whatever else you might see at the super market or Barnes and Noble.”

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d i k x e a v e a t v l a f l s f e a t e a t l a mdd tthhee iimmmmaaccuul an an

e r e o r o o m o m y e y k i e k m i bbyy m

Masta X-Kid, otherwise known as Roni Madison, grew up in the Portland hip-hop scene during the late 80s-early 90s and emerged as an electronic-rock hip-hop revolutionary. As CEO of Immaculate Flave, he continues to produce unique, ‘weird’ sounds from his home base in Seattle from having invented SciFiSwagPop with Black Gravity to various other eclectic projects.

X-Kid founded Immaculate Flave in 2001, first releasing the single “Bangable” and then the album “Scienz Class” in 2003. IF “is almost ready to open its doors”, says X-Kid, but currently only produces for a small cliental. The vision of Immaculate Flave doesn’t narrow its focus solely on music. Once a month, for the past six months, X-Kid put together Cool World Vegas with Benny Staxxx and Mr. Indica (other hip-hop artists)at the Cheyenne Saloon in Las Vegas. They incorporated fashion, dance, poetry, and music with performances lasting many times until after two in the morning.

"I’m definitely a peace on earth department guy, but ultimately, [my message is] to be aware, and challenge yourself lyrically.”

"There’s a lot of controversial views ...sex, violence...in lyrics. But we [Immaculate Flave] want to promote positive expansion of mind, open eyes. You don’t have to take information and culture through traditional means. Don’t be afraid to experiment in thinking.” -Masta X-Kid

projects,” said X-Kid. One of X-Kids many groups he’s a part of, the 9-member Kelu Band, is on hiatus until it comes back as a 15 piece ‘theatre-troupe’ complete with new dancers, musicians, DJs and percussionists. Immaculate Flave and its crew isn’t just some new studio popping up, this is a movement, a collective calling for new recruits.

Immaculate Flave is finally back in the Seattle area and X-Kid hopes to eventually branch off into a clothing line, technology for music production, and web design created all from local artists in the NW. Building a local Northwestern team plays an important role in X-Kid’s plan, and he believes the NW hiphop scene has not even begun to play out. “My homebase team is important, my local fans are important,” and, with his crew ranging from down in Vegas up through the Portland area into Seattle and Belling-

ham, X-Kid wants to reverse “the [current] low-national focus on the hip-hop scene in the Northwest”.

X-Kid has chosen to place his home base in the Kelu House of Art and Music on Flora Street in Seattle, otherwise known as K-HAM. The K-HAM studio is where X-Kid will soon release his next album, Lost Disciple, and where many of his other projects record. Luke Kelu Kreikemeier, from the Kelu Band, is the visionary behind the helm of K-HAM. X-Kid met Luke off an ad on Craigslist. Although tentative at first, X-Kid was quickly sold to Luke’s enthusiasm for music.

K-HAM has “music coming from the basement; art being made upstairs, all over the place”, practically coming out of the floorboards. This small house on Flora Street in Seattle is now currently in production with X-Kid’s futuristic funk punk band self-titled album, Cannabidrioids, soon to also release an EP, Organic Edibles, stripped of the electronic breakbeats and focusing more on the instrumentation of Luke Kelu(drums), Alex Kale (Trumpet) and Leif Gustafson (Sax) accompanied by X-Kid’s MC flow (and his bass).

Whether it’s his flow with the Cannabidroids or the more surreal and abstract funk, “the strange and cerebral,” in Black Gravity, X-Kid will never shy from what he calls ‘Elements of Strangeness’. X-Kid has adaptability, and with his willingness to evolve with and support the NW hip-hop scene and the talented crew he’s a part of, you better keep an eye on Immaculate Flave - this is just the beginning.

“Immaculate Flave isn’t a label, it’s not IF Records, but it’s an entity. Pushing shows, promoting events, recording CDs, dabbling in graphic events and film 10

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The Art of Justin Thomas

Justin Thompson, working occasionally under the alias Rebel Ally, is a young, local, self-taught artist who has just recently made his work available to the public eye. As an avid student of philosophy and ancient history at Western Washington University, his work is heavily influenced by his academic pursuits; often dealing in arcane and esoteric themes from mythology, literature, and the occult.

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“I was in the hospital a lot and doctors told me I would not live very long…” he described.

But as prediction after prediction was proven false, it became clear that McGee’s time wasn’t coming to an end any time soon.

Since then, the “Mighty” Mike McGee that fans around the world recognize today rose to fame.

An artist of the spoken word in every sense, McGee grew to prominence through slam poetry—a competitive event in which poets present an original three minute work to a panel of judges who then rates their performance on a zero-to-ten or one-toten scale. But McGee’s talents extend far beyond this realm.

A Blip in Time With Mike McGee John Lennon was 14,671 days old when he was shot and killed by Mark David Chapman.

It’s a fact that international poetry slam champion, Mike McGee, considers as he approaches is own 14,000 day milestone on May 11th of this year. It’s a sobering comparison—one that brings into perspective the delicacy of time.

But for Mike McGee, time wasn’t always as final.

Before he went on to claim the 2003 National Poetry Slam Individual Grand Championship, as well as the 2006 Individual World Grand Championship (a feat which no poet had accomplished before), McGee was a child born with the condition spina bifida. Part of a group of birth defects known as neural tube defects, spina bifida occurs when spinal vertebrae do not properly form around portions of the prenatal spinal cord. McGee has been fighting for his time since it began.

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“I am a writer, a spoken word artist, and a comedian…” McGee modestly describes himself. “…that and I make really good soup.”

But for those unable to enjoy his culinary prowess, his writing and performances more than suffice. Because to read Mike McGee’s work (and especially if heard from him in person) is to bring together all the unique elements of his past and blend them together into a seamlessly comical knit of eloquence.

His work will make you laugh, it will pull at your heart, it will make you want to share it with everyone you know. But most importantly, his work will make you think. for just as the comedian, and the foodie, and the screenwriter can be found among the words, so too can the boy whose doctors said he didn’t have much time.

No one knows how long they will live— and it’s hard to imagine many would want to. The most that can be done is to simply make count the moments as they come.

Such is an anticipation of every performance for McGee—to make the most of the brief time his audience has chosen to spend with him. In those moments, it is his goal to entertain, to amuse, to extend his hand to a crowd of strangers in the hope that they will like what is on the other end.

As McGee describes, the universe may only see us as little blips in its path of expansion. But McGee, through his writings and speech, encourages his audiences not to dwell on this notion, but to embrace it. Make the choice to spend your time in ways that allow you to spread joy and receive contentment.

“Happiness is overrated…happiness is an emotion you have very little control over, so it’s silly for people to seek happiness.

Own it when you have it, but don’t count on it to move your day along.”

McGee achieves his contentment by pursuing his passions; and through the pursuit of his passions, he spreads joy to others. And as he stands before the prospect of many performances to come, as well as the release of his fourth studio album, fans of the “Mighty” Mike McGee can be sure that he is headed for new and interesting things.

“So what is my goal? My goal is to be a fantastic blip.”

And it is an honor to have this blip in Bellingham.

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CHAMPLIN EXTRA STANDARD By pete irving One block due south of the Bellingham jail, through the front door of the art collective that shares it’s outermost walls with a couple of bail bond offices, through the gallery, down the stairs with the enormous mural of a screaming rat, across the concrete floor of the all-ages show space, down the hallway, right, left, left, and right through the old phone booth door you’ll find Devin Champlin’s workshop. Little ripples of sawdust adorn the surfaces least recently used. Pieces of wood in various states of attention fill up whatever space isn’t already taken by tools; some clamped into shape, some waiting to be cut, some drying for what will be years in thin shelves against the wall. Sanding blocks, band saws, chisels carrying curls of wood, laptop speakers playing music recorded near the dawn of recorded music, and the chatter of whoever dropped by that day add the final touch of life to the scene. Guitars – excellent, hand-crafted guitars – are made here.

Devin Champlin has been an active figure in the northwest acoustic roots music scene for quite some time. The Gallus Brothers, Baby Gramps, The Crow Quill Night Owls, The Shadies… his resume as a performer could take up this whole article. Someone else might have been content with just making some of the finer music around our corner of the world. Devin stepped up the game and began to make that which makes the music, and now, here in Bellingham’s very own Make.Shift Art Collective, we are lucky enough to have Champlin Guitars.

www.champlinguitars.com champlinguitars@gmail.com make.shift - 306 flora st. #10 16

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Devin has been tinkering with his instruments for near as long as he’s been playing them. From trying his hand at home repairs he soon moved on to the world of trashtruments: cookie-tin banjos, ham-can ukuleles, cigar-box guitars. When he started hankering for a little education to turn his semi-professional history with carpentry into a bonafide, capital-c ‘Craft’ luthiery fit just right (a luthier is a professional instrument maker). 10 hours a day, 5 days a week, for half of 2006 Devin learned the basics of guitar building at the Roberto-Venn School of Luthiery in Phoenix. His final project (and the third guitar he’s ever made) now hangs on the wall of The Green Frog Acoustic Tavern for anyone to play.

Devin is now building his 21st guitar- a Maccaferri style gypsy jazz guitar- and his work is getting better and better. Between 2009 and 2010 Devin apprenticed in Wisconsin under Todd Cambio of Fraulini Guitars. This is where he began to learn all the secret wizardry, all in the old-fashioned way: how to properly sharpen a scraper, how to use hide glue, how to French polish… this is the stuff that differentiates a good guitar from a great one. His repertoire now includes Arch Top Guitars (with the back and the front both painstakingly carved from single blocks of wood), Mandolinettos (like a mandolin but with a guitar shaped body), Resonator guitars (with a thin metal cone naturally amplifying the sound), and Parlor Guitars (Devin’s favorite; a smaller bodied guitar with a graceful, piercing sound, popular around the early 1900s).

The instruments he is making have developed enough buzz that some truly talented folks are commissioning his work. Charmaine Slaven of the Tallboys, Louis Ledford, and Matt Novak of Pretty Little Feet are all local performers who’ve decided to spring for a Champlin Guitar. I myself play on a neck he built for my resophonic guitar. His work has enough garnered enough respect in these parts that there is almost a community warranty on it. When the guitar he gave to The Green Frog was stolen one night it took only two days before it was returned, aided by the investigative efforts of nearly everyone who patronizes the club.

The attachment a person can develop to a Champlin Guitar is easily understandable. In addition to the excellent sound and playability the guitars are often decorated with some seriously impressive inlay work, all custom and hand made. The beauty of a good-looking and good-sounding guitar is more than skin deep though, and the wood you use can make or break an instrument. So Devin does it all: tapping on wood to see how it rings, finding the perfect grain for that marbled look, knowing that wood is organic and different from species to species, tree to tree, and even plank to plank. “Almost any piece of wood can make a guitar” he says, but “when you have one craftsperson and hand selected materials, there’s the opportunity to get the maximum potential out of a piece of wood. Strength, resonance, flexibility... this is the shit that keeps me up at night.”

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Farewell, Juniper Stills “The first band that really meant anything to me once I moved to Bellingham was Wyatt Parks and the Mute Choir [Juniper Stills]. I didn’t know many musicians and they had such an epic group of players. They were a window into that country, bluegrass scene I heard so much about but never got to see.”

-Nick Gendreau, B Side Editor In Chief

Sadly, it seems that the Bellingham folk scene will have an empty seat at the table formerly filled by the rowdy, lovable, down-home stylings of Juniper Stills. With members graduating left and right, professional duties filing in and new projects taking shape, the group has entered hiatus mode and has differing outlooks as to whether or not the project will return. So we at B Side Magazine thought it appropriate to devote an article to revisiting this Bellingham staple of the last four years.

Nobody, as of yet, has moved too far away to continue playing music. However, there is some doubt as to whether the project will return with the same title and style as before. These are not the most predictable folks.

Juniper Stills rarely play a song the same way twice. Originally christened Wyatt Parks and the Mute Choir, it wasn't until an impromptu discussion in the middle of a performance (and after “a boatload of gin”) that they landed on the name Juniper Stills.

This on-the-spot thinking drives every set they play. With a master list containing all of their songs in front of them during each set, they choose what to play based on the mood. “Sometimes a song can wind up thirty minutes long,” lead guitarist and vocalist Wyatt Parks tells me. Their songs “Cindy,” “Crawdad,” and “Oh Susanna,” which fall in the same key, can last a whole set and the band will improvise solos as they weave in and out of the three songs.

Juniper Stills is all about playing anything from traditional Irish music to country, “anything rooted in immigrant tradition,” Parks says. “It tickles my fancy. We avoid songs you normally hear on the radio.”

Although Parks wrote many of the tunes, there never seemed to be one true leader. Everyone gets a slice of the solo pie. Everybody gets to sing, from Parks on guitar, Collin McAvinchey who is trained in traditional Irish mandolin, Chandra Johnson on the violin, Joey Gish also on violin, and Chris Shank on banjo.

Parks plays bluegrass guitar but Stills is far from being solely bluegrass. With everyone's style in the mix, the band meanders from bluegrass, to folk, to country and everything in between. It sounds more like a new-age revisiting of older country tunes (some centuries old).

For example, Chris Shank uses an older claw-hammer technique when playing banjo rather than the more modern fingerpicking. Even though they play older songs, the band never shies away from experimenting with a familiar song in the hopes of making it nearly unrecognizable, adding a fresh twist while still using traditional techniques.

During a set, a soloist calls out their own solo when inspiration grabs them. Chandra Johnson, known for her role in tons of Bellingham bands including Hot Damn Scandal and Great Pacific, may not know a song at first, but never fear. Her improvisational skills can set the stage on fire.

Some of the writing and collaboration even happens on stage, and after three years they have accumulated over 30 songs they can play at any given moment and 15 more, if polished five minutes before a show, that they can bring out of their back pockets.

Finally, after having only a four-track demo online for almost two years, they recently recorded a new album of thirteen original songs. "[We recorded in] the Rebel Base in the upstairs room that nobody else lives in."

The Rebel Base, of course, is the name of the house around which the Juniper Stills squad has gravitated all these years. Parks encourages keeping production local and creating music that fans can access for free, so the album will be available for free download (but donations are kindly accepted). Check them out on Facebook and bandcamp.com.

When asked if there is any hope of a Juniper Stills revival in the future, banjo man Chris Shank says: “Oh, don’t you worry. We’re gonna be around.”

I sure do hope so.

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Joe graduated from the University of North Carolina School of the Arts in 2013. In addition to his studies in College, Joe has worked individually with many distinguished musicians.

Currently Joe lives in Bellingham Washington where he performs around the west coast and operates a music academy.

Child

- Needs to enjoy the learning process - Needs directed, organized home sessions and lessons - Needs to be given clear, attainable goals - Needs support and encouragement - Needs to be accepted as the child they are today

Role of Parent - Play the Suzuki recordings daily - Attend all lessons and groups with child - Take notes and follow instruction points - Lead home lessons with child daily - Provide a positive home learning environment

Role of Teacher -Support parent in home-teacher role - Design appropriate pace for learning - Organize and communicate learning points - Model beautiful tone and playing - Communicate directly about issues effecting the learning process

“All Japanese children speak Japanese.”

Every Child Can!

Absorbing music as a language with the Suzuki Method One of the most basic expectations that we have of our children is also one of the most incredible. This is the assumption that regardless of a newborn’s birthplace, parents, or education, a healthy child will learn to speak and communicate verbally. On the other side of the expectation spectrum, there is the perception of artistic “talent.”

The underlying assumption persists that some people are born destined to be gifted musicians and artists, while others are not. “So where did you get your talent?” is often asked by casual musical listeners, as if there is an elusive gene required for the creation of beautiful sounds.

Communicating verbally requires the complex ability to differentiate between subtle tones, pauses, accents and

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pitch. Vocal chords in our neck function similarly to a stringed instrument, but rather than pitch being controlled by which fret is held down on an instrument, we control pitch using differing velocities of vibrating air via muscle contractions. The mouth then delicately alters the overtones of the sound via movement of the tongue, lips and jaw. Once air molecules have passed the vibrations on to the listener’s eardrums, they begin to sympathetically move in patterns to which our brain assigns meaning.

Observing our capacity to communicate verbally, it is evident that we have an inherent ability to create and manipulate sound at very detailed levels. Learning to create and enjoy music is quite feasible for anyone, if only they receive enough exposure to the art form.

This simple observation by Dr. Shinichi Suzuki led him to believe that the ability of every child is almost limitless.

The fact that every child in a culture is able to develop this high-level skill to a substantial degree by the age of five or six demonstrated to him the potential of the human mind. If language acquisition is not limited to the gifted few, why should music be? Dr. Suzuki did not screen applicants upon entrance to his music school in Matsumoto, Japan. Going against popular beliefs, he spoke of the ability that all children have to learn things well at an early age if brought up in the right environment. This was the birth of what he called the Mother Tongue approach to learning music, to which he applied the basic principles of language acquisition. It breaks down like this: Early Years: Listening to music should begin at birth. Just as newborns are exposed to language in the hospital, music should ideally be played as the child emerges from the womb. During their early years, before the brain has learned to filter out irrelevant stimuli, children are very sensitive to all sounds in their environment.

Listening: Children learn words after hearing them spoken countless times by others. Listening to music every day is important, especially to pieces that the student intends to learn.

All pieces are taught by ear. Development in music reading should naturally follow alongside the child’s ability to read text.

Repetition: Constant repetition is essential to learning an instrument. Children add pieces to their vocabulary, but are always improving and refining old pieces as new songs are acquired, just like words. At early ages children love repetition (e.g. bedtime stories, new words and sounds… “Again! Again!”).

Encouragement: When a child learns a new word, even if

hardly recognizable, they are met with sincere praise and encouragement. The same can be true when learning an instrument. There must be complete confidence in the child.

To imitate the language learning process, Suzuki lessons begin around ages 3-7 and parental involvement is key to creating the environment. Before the child is asked, “Do you want to play?” the parent is asked, “Do you want this experience for yourself, your child, and your family?

Are you willing to commit to this process, teaching your child over time the nature of commitment, dedication, and love?” With the goal of immersion in mind, the role of the parent is just as important as the teacher.

The interests of young children sometimes come and go.

Suzuki tells us that desire and even genius are nurtured by one’s environment. Skill is nurtured over time. When desire runs low, it is the mature experience and commitment of the home-teacher that carries the child through. As Suzuki says, “Where love is deep, much can be accomplished.”

Certainly, it is important to be concerned with the details of playing a piece well. However, in the Suzuki method, the skill and practices used to create this beautiful work of art are more important than the work itself. Patience, kindness, determination, awareness and appreciation of beauty– providing these elements for children is the ultimate goal of the Suzuki method.

“Teaching music is not my main purpose. I want to make good citizens. If children hear fine music from the day of their birth and learn to play it, they develop sensitivity, discipline and endurance. They get a beautiful heart.”

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untitled sonnets by thom davis

a day in the life of

chandra johnson Chancakes are whole-wheat buttermilk pancakes, made from scratch, always served with maple syrup and prepared with ample amounts of love. Chandra Johnson is known for creating them, but that is not her only claim to fame.

Johnson (or Chan, as her friends like to call her) is a multi-faceted musician with a love for trail running, hiking and fishing. If she could be any animal, it would be an otter.

She is into jazz, bluegrass, rock n’ roll, the Seattle Seahawks, enjoys traveling and will try anything that sounds like a challenge to her. Her favorite element is carbon and she prefers a sunset to a sunrise, but just barely.

She says she likes to compare things that seem challenging to the difficult things she’s done in the past, for instance running 13 miles in a marathon on a sprained foot, climbing 19,000 feet above sea level in the Andes Mountains and playing truck loads of back-to-back gigs all along the west coast. “I‘ve always been pushed to do my best, so it‘s really exciting for me to achieve something that I want,” she says.

Her passions for music and the environment are in sync. Her music is motivated by the sense of beauty and perfection she sees in the natural world, while being outside makes her feel relaxed and inspired beyond words. She says music is the only way she can genuinely express that feeling.

Prior to graduating from Western Washington University with a double major in environmental science and music in March 2014, her average day started around 7:00 a.m. After reading the news, springing out of bed, throwing on clothes, running to the bus, attending classes and rehearsals for six to

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eight hours, heading to the gym for a climb or run, doing homework and attending band practice, she’s back home and off to bed.

That is, if she isn’t playing a late night gig with Great Pacific, Hot Damn Scandal, Juniper Stills, Mary Lambert, The Seattle Rock Orchestra or any other of the multitudes of bands and musicians that seek her company. She spends many of her weekends in Seattle either recording or playing shows.

She said she doesn’t get much sleep at this time in her life, but has a lot of friends she can call if she starts feeling really stressed by her many involvements. Her brother, Gus, is a backbone of her sanity as a calming force in her life, and he often put things into perspective for her when she found herself feeling too overwhelmed.

With her father being a longtime marathon runner and avid fisherman, it makes sense that Johnson feels passionate about the outdoors, but her musical endeavors have developed entirely from her own interest.

“I didn’t grow up in a home with musicians, so I’ve never really known how to create a career out of making music. I’ve gone about it the same way I do everything else and that is just throwing myself into every opportunity I have and making the best of it,” she said.

Performing is an important part of being a musician for Chandra and in this respect she is a true virtuoso. She feels as though playing music is more than simply playing notes on stage. It’s about the rapture of the entire performance. “You have to put on a great performance, otherwise the crowd will be bored. Unless you’re the best musician in the world, which I definitely am

not,” she modestly added.

Before shows she loves dressing up and putting on makeup or what she calls “war paint.” For her, the experience of going on stage is a transformation from the person she is in everyday life to a caricature of herself, an alter-ego of sorts, that puts her in the mindset of working a crowd.

Chan’s post-performance ritual involves always having a moment backstage to take a deep breath and feel the experience she had on stage vibrating through her. The act of being on stage is an extremely mental and physical process for her, and shifting from her on-stage self to being social can be a difficult process at times, she says.

When traveling (something she does often) she always brings her fiddle, toothbrush, camera and running shoes.

“I’ve always lived in the Pacific Northwest, so I love traveling because everything is new. I sometimes feel like I’m on another planet or something.”

Beginning in the middle of May, Johnson took a break from her busy lifestyle to travel with her family to Nepal, visiting family friends in various areas and trekking from there to Tibet. There, they made a holy pilgrimage around Mount Kailash, visited Lake Manasarovar and attended a festival of the full moon.

With experiences like these under her belt, there’s no telling where Chandra Johnson will go next. Until then, she makes her home in the Pacific Northwest, and it’s lovely to have her here.

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The first distant drumbeat that moved the soul to ecstasy was the throbbing Love beat forth from Mother's heart. Calming and slow; a soothing simple sound sent from above.

A sweet chaotic symphony of sound abounds outside in Nature's theater where joyful ecstasy, for some, is found in silence, sitting listening to her.

Love and Nature, by passion's warm embrace, do combine and bring ecstasy to some who hear the beat and separate the base, finding our Mother's heartbeat in a drum.

It's the simplest of beats that lift the soul, the heartbeat of one Life that binds us all.

The power of a candle in the dark should not be measured by brightness alone.

For eye & mind & heart are still, in part, just mortal; made of flesh & blood & bone.

In Darkness there lurks unknown primal fear which lingers from a long forgotten time repressed to realms from where our dreams appear feeding Darkness’ unseen terror sublime.

A candle’s power’s more than just mere light or warmth. We all become heliotrope to sun at but the hint of such a sight when in the Darkness lost without a hope.

Memory of the light from which we come Memory of the time we were the Sun

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Majestic The

On North Forest

Weddings ∙ Events ∙ Concerts Dance & Movement Instruction Company Parties & Workshops

360.676.0292

www.BellinghamMajestic.com

Are you a river flowing forward or are you a glacier gouging out a path of plastic deformation towards the shore grinding away your base in frozen wrath?

Are you the narrow, twisted path few take when at a ‘why’ in life or are you just the wide and easy way that is well raked and groomed and trod upon, but not discussed?

Are you an idle Sunday driver on a country road, or a driven driver fighting each day for every micron of a mile of the infrastructure?

Whatever path you are, or choose to take; remember that your end remains your make.

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bellingham, teach me

how to

olio

Thayne Yazzie and Maia Anne admit that they can't pick a single artistic focus. Together they created Olio media group, a safe-space community for artists in Bellingham.

Olio has produced art shows frequently since 2012.

Olio does not take in profit. Maia and Thayne support the media group by their own means and strive to take care of their artists as a non-profit. Olio means a hodgepodge or mixture of diverse ingredients. Staying true to their name, they offer services including screen printing, graphic design, formatting business cards and producing and recording albums. They recently distributed the new 30 track Vonvettas album Lucy and Jett Black in February 2014.

Thayne loves all types of art, and if you leave him in a room with any object, he'll be able to create something new from it. Put bluntly, he “just likes making shit.” He recently learned how to sew his first vest. One could call him a carpenter and a graphic designer in the same breath. He views art as having a raw and organic soul, secretly loving the medium of permanent pen the most: “If you make a mistake, you just add it in.”

Olio was originally a band that strived to play, as they put it, every genre of music. Eventually, the Olio band turned into the Vonvettas, and now the Olio media group is growing into a community of friends and local artists.

Maia describes it as a “giant work party,” where even some who have moved south still come up monthly to visit with old friends and experience their art.

If Thayne is the “driver” of Olio, then Maia is the “navigator,” with most of the guidance coming from Maia's organization and the community of artists connected to Olio. On top of her business skills, Maia creates stunning 26

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by mikey moore visual poetry which dabbles in paint and pen as well as a variety of forms from mask and body art to ceramics.

The joining of their talents began back when Maia and Thayne were underage and used to sneak into bars.

They couldn't get into certain art shows otherwise, and even when they could the gallery managers were not always receptive to the youngsters or their art.

Taking charge in creative ways, they grew their own all-ages space based on the idea of “not saying no.”

Olio is built to be a supportive community with contributions from all types of local artists. They accomplish this goal by providing a space for their friends to display visual art as well as a space for performing arts. To some, it’s a fun place to chill and share art you might otherwise have kept leaning in the corner of your bedroom.

Never staying in one venue, Olio organizes fresh spaces every time they showcase an artist or gallery. “It keeps artists versatile, on their toes,” a quality Maia values highly and uses to mold the Olio vision.

“Everything I have learned in school is exactly what I have to do in Olio,” Thayne says, and it sounds as if the next show could awaken “the hibernating beast that is currently Olio.” Thayne assures me that he goes out into the forest to feed the sleeping Olio as often as he can. Eventually, that will mean more shows, more art, and more artists produced and distributed through the Olio media group.

The Bellingham music community is growing, and no form of expression is off-limits. Join the group this fall to learn how to Olio, too.

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distinction is so important that they end up going beyond their hatred for a certain type of music and move onto hating the people that listen to and create the genres that they despise.

IT IS A BEAUTIFUL THING to be able to

drive thirty minutes in either direction and stumble upon another thriving musical culture. For many, this is life in the Pacific Northwest. If you know where to look, you can find a community of tight-knit musicians in any given town in Washington State, from Olympia (pop. 47,698) to Elbe (pop 29). It seems like you can’t throw a rock without hitting a guitarist or a DJ. They’re pickers and grinners; They’re potluck jammers.

They’re blues dancers; They’re punk rock moshers; They’re freestyle rappers; They’re ragtime swingers; They’re singer/song-writers; and they are not alone. Even now as you read this article, they are gathering in the basements, garages, studios and dive bars along the I-5 corridor, tuning into the messages from the vanguards of rock, hip-hop, funk, blues, jazz and every possible combination of the lot. Listen closely and you can hear the rhythmic pulse of this place, beating. Up here we live by one simple phrase: “It’s all good.”

The Pacific Northwest has its roots dug into a staggering diversity of music and arts. Throughout the region’s history, all types of musical communities have developed hotbeds around the Puget Sound in small towns and big cities alike. Seattle, the crowned jewel, has served as an artistic magnet, drawing people of all creeds out of their holes and into the shows. All the while, figures like Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain and Sir Mix-A-Lot have added significant chapters to the national and world level conversations on music in pop culture, giving hope to local artists that aspire to take their projects to such great heights.

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Since the music the Northwest is so naturally diverse, you might think that the average concertgoer would represent that diversity. Ask yourself how many different genres of shows would you possibly attend if given the opportunity. All of them? Most of them? Just a handful? Only one?

Don’t be too hard on yourself if the answer isn’t such a high number. You are, after all, entitled to your taste, and not everyone is going to make it out to a concert.

Depending on which social circles they belong to and which musical sources they subscribe to, people can develop all sorts of ideas about different types of concertgoers. A suburban mother may pack her kids into the van and sweep them off to Benaroya Hall to hear the Seattle Symphony, but would she be so quick to pull up to a Vashon Island garage to give the youngsters a first taste of postpunk thrash metal? It isn’t impossible, but it is rather unlikely.

In fact, both thrasher and soccer mom tend to prefer this arrangement. The symphony is boring, says the thrasher.

The rock show is dangerous, says the soccer mom. They probably wouldn’t get along anyway, right?

Not necessarily.

This is an example of musical stereotyping; judgments made about a certain type of music before participating in it. While we certainly cannot expect everyone’s tastes to mesh with those of others, these predetermined ideas are a driving force, quietly dividing Northwest music culture into separate, warring subcultures. They exist side by side in distinct “scenes”, often ignoring or outright denying the validity of opposing scenes based on the perceived qualities of their respective genres. For some people, the

You can see this prejudice manifest in many ways you might have heard from your peers. Some manifestations are relatively harmless, such as the common phrase “I listen to everything, except country.” Some bare teeth, like the phrase “Hipsters should really just kill themselves.” Others are outright militant. “Pop music is the hand of the new world order and needs to be destroyed!” Without arguing for or against these points or the myriad of other possible arguments, it is important to acknowledge that these prejudices exist and we all partake in them to some degree.

But where do these prejudices come from? What is it that really separates one scene of music listeners from another?

Is it in the way they dress? Do they live in different cities or neighborhoods? Are they divided along the lines of income or social status? Gender? Ethnicity? Age? Big time music marketers seem to think so. They use conjecture like this in order to sell their products more effectively. But not all of us are fortunate enough to have a team of market analysts around, so our tastes tend to be much more varied than many lists of popular genres would suggest.

Most of us listeners are left a puzzle we must solve ourselves; Are there really direct links between different types of people and different types of music? Though there are limitless answers to a question such as this, there is a shorthand answer that works just as well as any one of them could.

“Nope.”

While this may seem like an oversimplification, the truth is, people listen to whatever they damn well please. People do not always conform to the musical tastes of others like them. You can find soccer moms that listen to thrash metal. You can find aspiring country western stars singing in downtown Seattle. You can find young children that croon with Sinatra. (Don’t let grandpa tell you that his music is dead. He’s just hurt that his world didn’t stay the way he liked it.) The factors that determine a person’s specific taste in music are complex, cultural and very mysterious.

Change one small part of your life and you could be listening to something else on your morning jog. The music every individual person hears and enjoys throughout their lifetime is completely unique to that person, and is dependent on the internal appreciation of the listener. It cannot be accurately categorized into a small number of pre-established genres.

The social circles that form around these differing tastes are completely natural, but when they are taken to extremes they can do damage to the musical community.

Most notably, the pool of potential concert attendees is fractured into many smaller parts, some of them exclusive or difficult to partake in. For instance, a closet jazz enthusiast may have difficulty or hesitation finding any live music he or she likes if they never receive guidance from someone who knows the jazz scene. Even if the sound is appealing, access to the best jazz music may seem impossible, or worse; it could be deemed uncool by judgmental friends and peers. It could be disapproved of in the home or in school. The same goes for a classical music student who quietly enjoys East coast rap. It is not impossible for someone in this position to find the music they crave, but there can be obstacles on the way to doing so. Since many people make their musical choices subconsciously, they often choose to listen to whatever they have the easiest access to, or whatever is popular amongst their peers. While there is nothing wrong with coming together over music, there can be serious problems with pressuring people socially to like or dislike the same things.

So how can you live in a musical town?

Well, at least in the Pacific Northwest, YOU ALREADY DO. All you have to do is to seek out the beautiful things that are already happening all around you. Entire worlds of music await those who are brave enough to participate. Every style of music has its own grand history with trailblazing musicians that paved the way for the music of today. Rock stars, jazz cats, crooners and old-school rappers still have something to offer us and there are new breeds of music constantly emerging. Once we realize the importance of keeping the diversity of music alive, there is truly no limit to what we can create together.

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We at B-Side Magazine believe that every vein of music has a place in the landscape of our culture, so we’ve compiled a list of helpful tips to get you out of any musical slump!

1. Keep an open mind to the possibilities of music.

There is no good reason to close the door on any one type of music. You never know what song will change your mind about an artist, genre or social scene. Who knows? Maybe your next favorite song is right around the corner.

2. Try a new genre on for size.

It can be really easy to fall into familiar patterns of music. Everyone has a favorite style, band or artist, but shaking things up can yield unexpectedly awesome results! That’s why they call it discovering music.

3. Seek out the local versions of the genres you love.

The local music in your town just might surprise you. Without big marketing teams selling a short list of genres to specific crowds, music can take some incredible twists and turns! Every band has something different to offer. It isn’t all about popularity!

4. Let your freak flag fly.

Dare to have a musical identity. Do you like a little bit of grunge mixed in with your string quartet? Do you have the complete discographies of both Iron Maiden and The Bee Gees? Do you listen to exclusively Himalayan throat singing? GOOD! The world needs more of you.

Share your tastes with us!

megan cook Artist’s Statement

5. Don’t hate on music you don’t listen to.

Someone out there already doesn’t like you because of what you are listening to. It’s up to us to stop perpetuating the ideas of superior vs. inferior types of music. If someone you know has tastes that are opposite to yours, do what Paul McCartney would do and just LET IT BE.

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I’m Megan Cook, a student studying English at Western Washington University.

I grew up in Burien, Washington, a town resting just south of Seattle. One of my favorite hobbies is drawing.

In fact, I’ve been drawing since I was three years old. I usually use pencils, ink, charcoal, or use digital methods to create my work.

Hope you enjoy my work!

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bellingham girls rock camp by aaron newsom

They invaded the Green Frog with all the energy and theatre of established touring bands. Girls ages 8-17 spent the week previous learning songwriting, how to play instruments, and most importantly, a crash course on empowerment and feminism. By the end of the week (four days really) the girls had formed bands with names like the Riot Grrls and Instrumental Mangos, created stage personas, and wrote their own songs, which they played to a packed house at the Green Frog. And when I say packed, I mean packed to the gills; it was as wall-to-wall as I’d ever seen a show, and the enthusiasm was palpable.

Co-coordinators Morgan Lanza and Tasha Kern are quick to praise the community’s involvement with the program.

“Everyone I talk to is so gung-ho about it, it’s been incredible” Morgan says.

Bellingham Girls Rock Camp is part of a much larger movement that has spread internationally.

“It’s really cool it bridges girls from all different schools and back grounds who might not have know each other otherwise.” Tasha says of the program.

Both Morgan and Tasha are very proud of the girls they’ve had through their camp speaking about one girl who’d come all three years. “The first year she was someone else’s shadow, she didn’t have much to say… she slowly came out of her shell and the next year came back with half of her head shaved and dyed pink and now (this year) is rocking the drums.

It’s been awesome to see her growing up.” Tasha said.

“I think she’s going to come back and hang with us every year until she’s a volunteer.” Morgan adds “That’s the power of the program, I don’t see anything in the future that would keep us from continuing. Girls have the chance to keep coming back for almost ten years, until they can come back as counselors and say, now its my time to give back.”

Another success story the program has had is a girl who was kick-started the first year to become a promoter and is now a hot commodity for the local all-ages venues and is already in demand by the clubs.

“Because we’re such a young program we’re not going to know the full extent that we’re having on the scene, until the girls grow up.” Morgan is quick to add.

Back at the show, it all makes sense, the girls are full of the typical bouncy enthusiasm one might expect from a gaggle of mostly pre-teens with a long summer ahead of them, but when it comes to the music, they are focused and really understand the sophisticated power that music can have to affirm self-worth and spread a message, while simultaneously being lots of fun. Their songs were built of solid blues patterns that meandered into everything from punk to trance.

These girls have range! The songs they wrote were well crafted, and the lyrics were especially poignant, cele-

brating their individuality and female empowerment in a genuine way. It was plain to see as an audience member that music mattered to them.

The symbiotic relationship of artist and audience was wonderfully evident at the show, the girls connected straight to the audience and the audience egged them on.

Tasha summed it up better that I can, these rock camps are about “The rock n’ roll attitude, The empowerment and the ability to accept yourself. Imagine the younger you could be and be able to accept yourself, it takes most people until they’re in their thirties, what if you could know that when you were twelve, or thirteen, or fourteen and you could live your whole life with that power and confidence?”

You can see some campers play July 26th for the Girls Rock Camp benefit concert at 360 Music or send your girl to camp August 24-30th.

“The first Rock n’ Roll camp for girls started in Portland, post Riot Girl movement, in 2001. It was so popular and so effective that it spread all over the country and now all over the world.” Morgan explained. There is an indelible link back to bands like Bikini Kill and The Breeders that rocked as hard or harder as any other band of the time, inspiring a generation of punk rockers and activists. Tasha grew up loving “Chicks that could rock and sing, and did not care about anybody else’s opinion.” So the chance in 2011 to be a part of the first Bellingham Girls Rock Camp was very meaningful. It also makes a lot of sense for the camp to be in Bellingham. The Riot Girl movement was happening simultaneously in Washington D.C. and the Pacific Northwest, and Bellingham has always been an inviting place for social justice-minded programs.

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racism in punk rock by sarah covert-bowlds Punk rock is often seen as a breeding ground for counter-cultural ideology and a force against racism, sexism, and other forms of marginalization.

But is punk rock really the great radical genre that some fans want it to be? Throughout the years, several punk musicians including Sid Vicious and Siouxsie Sioux have worn swastikas right alongside Communist and anarchist symbols. To what extent do punk musicians actually hold these values, rather than simply using them for their intensity or shock value?

Musicians and fans alike need to examine these provocative images on a case-by-case basis in order to arrive at a more nuanced understanding of racism in punk rock music.

Rock Against Racism (RAR) was founded in 1976 in the United Kingdom by photographer Red Saunders, Roger Huddle, and other activists in response to the growth of the blatantly white supremacist National Front (a popular political party in the U.K. at the time) and to address Eric Clapton's drunken on-stage tirade. He told his audience, “This is England, this is a white country, we don't want any black wogs and coons living here. We need to make clear to them they are not welcome. England is for white people, man.” Clapton is not a punk musician, but the timing and context of his remarks sparked a backlash that was largely based in punk music, a popular style at that time. Music fans and activists organized music festivals, hiring popular bands including The Clash, The Buzzcocks, and Elvis Costello to demonstrate that the xenophobic views of Clapton and the National Front did not represent punk youth as a whole.

Unfortunately, RAR's anti-racist activities seem to have been limited to these shows. Fans may have come for the music and absorbed the messages on a surface level, but were not encouraged to think critically or stay involved in the struggle in ways that didn't involve raucous shows. Music journalist John Shearlaw describes RAR as “the new punk generation tenuously united under a well-meaning but essentially meaningless banner” (Colegrave & Sullivan, 351). What causes him to make such a claim? Paul Simonon, bassist for The Clash, stated that RAR “seemed like a good thing to put our name behind...

Unfortunately, there were all these hippies running around shaking these big buckets for money: it was for a good cause, but it was really unglamorous. You need something a bit more stylish to attract young people” (Colegrave & Sullivan 351). This suggested an attitude that anti-racist work was only worth engaging in if it was the cool thing to do.

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Chris Sullivan claims that RAR “[made] bigotry very uncool and old-fashioned” (351). Viv Goldman of Sounds magazine writes: “I think it really did glamorize anti-racism and make a lot of people aware of the issue and feel really connected... it was one of those eras where the lines of battle were clearly drawn. I think [RAR] really stayed a vibrant grass roots [sic] movement, where people had a lot of fun fighting the good fight” (Colegrave & Sullivan, 351). Though her words are seemingly supportive, like Simonon she also implies that if the movement ceased to be fun and glamorous, it would lose support.

Contrary to what some progressive fans wanted to believe, punk's political commitment was not the “sole province of the left” (Sabin 208). In fact, it was rather politically ambiguous. Though it ostensibly began as a counter-cultural movement, it eventually gained such a widespread following that inevitably some differences of ideology emerged among the mass of youth loosely categorized as “punk.”

Skinhead culture, for example, originated in the hypermasculine Oi! subgenre, which responded to the stereotype of the upper-class punk kid (i.e. spoiled “posers”) by emphasizing working-class backgrounds.

It eventually splintered into different camps, with white supremacists and neo-Nazis on one end of the spectrum and anti-racist skinheads on the other. Burghart explains the appeal to youth of the former, writing: “Alienated young people, already outside the ‘norm,’ look to subcultures as places of refuge and places that provide them with identity. White power music is a potent mix of anger and youthful rebellion that taps into pre-existing reservoirs of bigotry in society at large” (12). Nazi skinheads, like so many other lonely young punks, were looking for a place to belong.

However, as Sabin writes, “what punk didn't say about (anti-) racism was often more important than what it did” (203). For instance, RAR neglected to address racism against Asian youth in the U.K., who just “didn't have the same romance as Afro-Caribbean youth... and what was equally problematic, they had no music comparable to reggae with which punks could identify… As fellow 'rebel rockers' they were a dead loss” (204). It seems that white

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punks didn’t see enough aesthetic similarity with Asians and other non-black youth of color to join in solidarity against this particular targeted form of racism.

RAR was largely spearheaded by white musicians eager to counter the blatantly racist narratives being put forth by their contemporaries. Though their efforts were important, it would be counterproductive and hypocritical to focus on their stories rather than those who were the actual targets of racism. The standard narrative of punk rock as consisting mainly of white musicians (of varying political stances) is a historically inaccurate representation of the scene. Many prominent bands defied this notion.

The band Death, active in the late 1970s, was one of the first punk bands to form in the U.S. Three black brothers, Dannis, Bobby, and David Hackney, grew up in Detroit listening to the Motown hits, Aretha Franklin, and Earth, Wind & Fire, but were also inspired by groups such as the Beatles.

After the eldest, David, saw The Who perform live, they focused on the punk sound despite their community's jibes that they were trying to play “white boy music.” David was all about sticking it to the status quo, telling his brothers that “pure rock & roll is what they don't play on the radio.”

Death strays from the rebellious punk image in their significant influence from family. They attribute their growth as musicians to the support of their mother. “Family is everything,” Dannis reflects. Following the death of their father, David chose the name not only for its shock value but also to represent reality – death not as something negative, but simply a part of life.

He refused to change the name when multiple labels informed him that it was the sole reason for not signing the band, instead opting to release 500 copies of their album on their home label, Tryangle Records. It would take over three decades for this music to find its way onto the Internet and gain a larger fan base.

Punk musicians and fans are not all aligned under a common platform of anti-racism, anti-capitalism, or really any common belief system besides the vague concept of “sticking it to the man,” which, like it or not, gets interpreted in a wide variety of political and social stances. However, some radical musicians have made crucial efforts to fight racism within punk rock, a broadly labeled and loosely defined genre that has changed immensely since its inception. Rock Against Racism was neither the beginning nor the end of the evolution of strategies to fight racism. Rather, it is a telling example of how much further we have to go. The music industry overall still needs to develop a more critical understanding of racism in music and how to fight it at the roots

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Works Cited A Band Called Death. Dir. Mark Covino. Drafthouse Films, 2013. DVD. Billingham, Lee, and Roger Huddle. “Anti-Fascism: That Was Then, This Is Now.” Socialist Review. Socialist Workers' Party, June 2004. http://www.socialistreview.org.uk/article.php?articlenumber=8931.

“Black Rock Coalition.” Black Rock Coalition. http://blackrockcoalition.org/.

Burghart, Devin, ed. Soundtracks to the White Revolution: White Supremacist Assaults on Youth Subcultures. Chicago, IL: Center for New Community, 1999.

Colegrave, Stephen, and Chris Sullivan. Punk: The Definitive Record of a Revolution. New York, NY: Thunder's Mouth, 2005.

John, Haycock. "Rock Against Racism." Pedagogy of Pop. Monash University, Faculty of Education. http://pedagogyofpop.wordpress. com/blog-3/pedagogy-of-pop-latest-post/rock-against-racism/.

Moliterno, Alessandro G. "What Riot? Punk Rock Politics, Fascism, and Rock Against Racism." Student Pulse 4.01 (2012). http://www. studentpulse.com/a?id=612.

Phillips, Stephanie.. "Can We Talk about White Superiority and Racism in Punk?" The Multicultural Politic. Sept. 2013. http://www.tmponline.org/2013/09/03/race-punk-music/.

Porter, James and Jake Austen. "Black Punk Time: Blacks in Punk, New Wave and Hardcore, 1976-1984 (Part 1)." Roctober.com. 16 September 2013. www.roctober.com/roctober/blackpunk1.html.

-James Porter and Jake Austen compiled a zine of overlooked Black musicians since the punk era. It was published in print in 2002, but Porter and Austen have continued to add information to the online version, beginning a comprehensive encyclopedia.

Sabin, Roger. "I Won't Let That Dago By: Rethinking Punk and Racism." Punk Rock, So What?: The Cultural Legacy of Punk, Sabin, Roger (ed). London: Routledge, 1999.

Street, John. Rebel Rock: The Politics of Popular Music. Oxford, UK: Basil Blackwell, 1986. pp.74–75.

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the pane of gregory ocean by spencer newsad

Gregory Ocean’s aunt was a loving woman, but she wouldn’t let him play in the rain. She worried about the mess. So when his friends went outside on rainy days, Gregory watched them play from his bedroom window. As the raindrops fell on the window, Gregory fell to daydreaming.

His cheek on the sill and his fingertip on the glass, he began tracing the raindrops that splatted on the window. Transfixed, he admired the efficient, to-the-point way in which the dots turned to rivulets, and when they reached the bottom, disappeared altogether.

Sometimes he bet himself which drops would fall fastest.

Because he was a boy with no money or property to his name, he bet the only thing he had: the minutes of his life.

Considering size, personality, and location on the window, he predicted the winning raindrop nine out of ten times.

So he took his talent to the classroom. During indoor recess, he gathered his classmates at the windows and ran a raindrop racetrack. Snacks, marbles, lunch money, even Gameboys were placed in the pot. When the teacher arrived to investigate, the students dispersed. The stakes were too high. Nothing could be proven except that Gregory Ocean was becoming the most popular kid in school.

But Gregory was restless. He never bet on a race. He wasn’t in it for the snack food. Maybe long ago raindrop racing was a noble, sacred way to wonder at the mysteries of life, but now it was only a game. So Gregory abandoned the tracks. His competitors took control.

Kids asked whatever happened to their favorite bookie Greg.

Some said he spent indoor recess in the restrooms watching the water rush down the urinals. Others said he sat in the lobby, crosslegged beneath the thirty-foot tall glass entrance doors, meditating.

Only one or two knew the real truth: Gregory found solace sitting above the auditorium in the black audio booth. There in the shadows, he stared still and silent at a vast expanse of sound-proof glass. He imagined raindrops dripped beneath the edge of the audio panels and onto the bleachers below.

It wearied him to look at a pane of wet glass anymore. He saw too many possibilities. Too many answers. Not enough questions.

Years passed as Gregory looked into the glass. He grew two feet and a face-full of fuzz sitting in the sound booth. Even when it didn’t rain, even when it was a beautiful day, he refused to attend another recess. He preferred silence.

...

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On a wet April day, sixth grader Ruth Stuart’s attention began to slip from her studies to the playground outside the window.

That day the rain fell in dollops. Ruth found herself wondering about the good ole times in the second grade when she used to bet on the window races. She lost a lot of dough: pixie sticks and pop rocks, Snicker bars and snicker doodles, and whole pocketfuls of change. But there was no more change now. No change for anyone but the lunch ladies. No one had placed a bet since the spring raid of 2000, when the hall monitors stormed the classrooms, pinned kids’ faces against the lockers, and expected, demanded, and took answers. She shivered, and the playground returned to her.

Vendors set up shacks around the perimeter of the park. Flash photography was prohibited. Security guards checked purses and jacket pockets for paraphrenelia. Reporters attempted to interview the young Ocean. Sharpie propositioned him for a contract, but he would not answer any questions. He traced.

Then she saw it. Ruth Stuart rose from her seat and stuck her nose against the window. There, just beyond the school grounds—she saw it, and she knew: Gregory Ocean had returned.

Some camped all night to spend time with the faces they recognized.

A woman who owned a scrap-booking shop closed her business, covered her shoulders with a quilt and kneeled before a face in the middle of the wall: it was round, toothless, and hairless save for a small patch of fuzz on its forehead. She slept before the face. She didn’t come home for days at a time.

First only Ruth showed up. Then one by one the whole betting crowd arrived. Then the grade. Then the school—the teachers and the principals, the janitors and the lunch staff. Parents were called. Reporters, too. Shop-owners closed their doors and grown men went on vacation to witness the spectacle Gregory Ocean brought to Meridian Park.

Some said it wasn’t Gregory who brought it to the children.

Some said it was God. God who whispered what to do into Gregory’s little ear. God who made it rain every day for three weeks. God who erected the great glass wall in Meridian Park.

God who taught Gregory how to rappel across its football-field height and length. Armed only with a sharpie, a harness, and a good bit of rope, Gregory danced across the enormous pane of glass tracing raindrops.

For three weeks he traced every drop he could find top-to-bottom.

No one knew how the wall stayed standing as Gregory slid up, down, across and over it. Attached to a rail, which trollied him back and forth, Gregory flipped and dove, twirled, whirled and spun in his harness tracing rain drops.

At first, they were just scribbles on a window pane. Then they accumulated. The town wondered how Gregory knew which drops to trace. They wondered if it was all a hoax as gradually the scribbles turned into figures.

“It’s a face!” someone cried.

“It’s a hundred faces!” another replied.

It was a thousand faces, all huddled together, cheek to cheek, some smiling, some frowning: all too familiar. It wasn’t long before fingers reached out where they could in realization.

“That,” said a fisherman. His face was wind-charred. “That is my daughter.” He whimpered at the glass. “Was my daughter,” he said. “Is my daughter—,” he said.

The whole town approached the glass and touched faces they could not place or could place far too well. Expecting acknowledgement, the fisherman looked up at Gregory.

Gregory did not look back. He traced.

The owner of a local construction company brought in a crane for anyone interested in examining the entire wall. At first the service was free. Many were interested. More than he could have imagined. Hoping to capitalize, he posted a fare. In days, it doubled and tripled.

Strangers cried out for answers: “Who are you?” and “Why are you doing this?” and “Where are your parents?” He traced.

The crowd grew uneasy, even angry, but no one dared reach for him. He was tethered to the wall. They did not know how stable it was. A single tap might send it toppling down. He traced.

Her son, David, a student at the elementary school, grew concerned.

He heard other children complain, too, but did not understand all the hubbub himself. All he knew was that the ink on this wall made everyone cry, but nobody could explain how.

His mother came home on a Friday night to pack food for herself.

David asked if he could come with her. She said no, so David hid in the back of her mini-van. When she parked outside Meridian Park, he climbed out the back door and, despite her calls for him to come back, he ran straight to the wall.

Standing in front of Gregory Ocean’s great glass wall, David’s mouth hung open: the glass rose out of a sea of people, trees, and stadium lights. Helicopters hovered overhead. Tent tops flapped beneath their gusts. Spotlights flashed every which way.

Ocean did not seem to notice.

David did. David saw it all in absolutely clarity, exactly as he imagined he would: to David, it was chaos. He did what he had to do: he drew a baseball-sized rock from his pocket, raised it behind his head like his dad taught him to throw, and threw it at the wall.

The crack, at first no more than the length of a pencil, crept diagonally from the bottom-right corner of the wall, then split into three more cracks, which crept, too, then cracked again and again and again. Whispers rippled through the crowd, which soon roared in terror as families and friends, tears streaming down their cheeks, fled from the faces on the wall.

No one noticed when the rain stopped.

Gregory stopped tracing. He stared at the expanding web of white lace and turned his head sideways as if he did not know what he was looking at, as if he were no longer hanging from the wall anymore, but considering a photograph of the moment: as if he knew exactly what was going to happen next, but not what it meant to him.

The wall shattered. The shards hung in the air. For a moment it seemed as if the wall would not fall after all. Many hoped, albeit foolishly, that Gregory and the sharp crystalline slivers of his work would remain suspended in space forever. When they fell, they fell quietly, like raindrops plopping onto the grass.

Immediately the crowd swarmed the broken glass and collected whatever they could for safe-keeping. When they dispersed, Gregory Ocean was nowhere to be found.

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year of the snake I’ll fall in love again.

I’ll work at a co-op, I’ll save money. I’ll exhaust myself.

I’ll eat better. I’ll spend all my money on food. I’ll stand between rivers and islands of cunning labels at Fred Meyer because I still can’t afford food from the co-op. I’ll stare at the good food, which looks bad, and I’ll stare at the bad food, which looks good,and I’ll cry, “I need a cigarette.”

I’ll quit smoking. I’ll stop today and I’ll leave all those friends behind so when one of them gets lung cancer nobody will be around to say, “I told you so.” I’ll smoke more weed.

I’ll stop smoking weed when someone says something.

I’ll stop living with others. I’ll recycle.

I’ll bic everyone’s lighters and label them with names and buy pickles from Cosco, give the pickles to the homeless, and fill the jar with lighters. I’ll post a picture on Reddit and get absolutely no attention because it’s really not that clever. I won’t do that again.

I’ll always worry I’m not doing enough.

I’ll go to history class and when none of the class finishes the reading I will get mad. I will say they’re wasting their parents’ money and if they say they don’t care I’ll say I don’t either and I’ll wonder why not. That night I’ll skip reading. The next day I’ll come to class and everyone will have read and it will be the best discussion they’ve ever had and I will have no idea what’s going on.

I’ll say Yes every time someone asks me if I want to try acid or DMT or 4MET or whatever because even if I don’t take any, saying Yes might help those guys finally get some acid.

I’ll learn how to cook. A young man cooking in college is literally dangerous.

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When I’m outside, I’ll look at the trees and the sky. When I’m inside, I’ll look out the window. When I’m not near a window, I will look at a glowing screen. When the screen gives me a headache, I’ll take a Tylenol and look in the bathroom mirror and think about whitening my teeth.

When the mirror breaks, I will stand in the rain. I will look at my feet in my Converse. I will look into puddles. There, I will see the sky dancing with the trees.

I’ll give in, buy a smart phone. The screen will crack and glitch out. For a while I’ll use Mumford & Sons as my ringtone because I don’t know any better. When I’m tired of a conversation, I’ll pull out my smart phone and tweet that I’m bored. I’ll tag the person I’m talking to and they’ll feel funny about it but laugh anyway.

I’ll go to more shows. I’ll dance with girls twirling in their red summer dresses. I’ll know beer. I’ll know bouncers. I’ll know bartenders. By then I’ll be broke and an alcoholic.

I’ll watch my best friend faint outside the Buffalo after two beers. Eye socket to curb, right full frontal facial blowout.

He’ll ask me to drive him to the hospital and I’ll say no because I can’t drive stick. But I’ll know people and people will know me. I’ll let them take pictures of him with their cell phones in the moonbow street.

I’ll travel to Central America even though I don’t speak any Spanish and draw broad generalizations about the culture and the world at large: I’ll realize how serious the world is, how lucky I am, how lonely it is to be human, how shit-covered Ecuador gets in the springtime, how much rum I can drink before I will for sure blackout—I’ll come back home. Something will be lost. The feeling won’t fade for a long time.

I’ll wonder if I have Aspergers because for some reason I have a lot of fun talking to people with Aspergers.

Someone will call me a jerk for that.

I’ll buy an Xbox and join Xbox Live and buy Call of Duty: Black Ops 3 and shoot abstractions of enemies because I don’t know what they stand for and that’s the only way to find out.

I’ll open an OKCupid account. I’ll get way more responses than I thought. I’ll meet a perfect girl just in time, a Canadian, one who wants me to eat well and try new things and expects me to not act like a dumb-ass sometimes.

She’ll fly to Peru for a month for fun. The night before she leaves I’ll yell at her for calling me sensitive and hang up the phone and log in to Facebook and argue with her some more and I’ll call her again wailing how sorry I am.

I’ll write her every day or as often as I can and I’ll think about her all the time she’s gone and when she returns I’ll have completely changed and improved myself and eat quinoa and think before I speak. We’ll fall truly, madly in love and for a while everything will be absolutely awesome, but I won’t be able to keep it up because I’m too old to stop having fun anymore. We’ll break up and I’ll reopen my OKCupid account and pretend my name is Ryan or Chris or Cobi and fuck strangers and become a master of oral sex.

I’ll come to class one day with a bad attitude, stand while the teacher is speaking, collect my things, bow and never return.

I’ll drop out of college. I’ll live in my apartment till somebody comes by to physically remove me. When they do, I’ll fight them. Airborne in their arms, I’ll bite. Then I’ll run away. I’ll leave my stuff. I’ll pawn my cell phone because all of my friends were smokers and students and I’ll have a headache because I left my Tylenol. I’ll live on tacos from taco trucks because I still don’t know how to cook.

I’ll live with my parents for three years. My mom’s heart condition will compound with the stress caused by my near-constant presence and she’ll go into cardiac arrest while watching the oils boil from a piece of cheddar

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cheese in the microwave. My dad will come out. He’ll retire and live out the rest of his days on the road in an Accord with the money my mom saved him from hating doctors all those years.

I’ll move to Canada and realize I don’t actually care for it.

I’ll look for the OKCupid girl and discover she died in a car accident. I won’t be the same after that.

I’ll move to Portland and get a desk job at a graphic design agency if I have to. I won’t be the least bit bitter about it because by then I’ll know what it’s like to not have a home.

I’ll enter an open relationship with a graduate of Reed College and when she fucks someone else for the first time, I’ll make her show me how he fucked her, explain in detail, then fuck him from her body. It will save our relationship. She’ll write a self-help sex book called The Beautiful Truth, which will make her enough money to start practicing alternative medicine. We’ll get married. We’ll invest in a made-up statistic that says couples in open relationships have happier kids. We will wonder whether we’re still in love. We will wonder what love is.

I’ll finally write that book I’ve been working on all these years. Fifty publishers will pass before it gets picked up.

The launch party will be deserted except for me and some middle-aged women and my pregnant wife and a loveless literary agent. But we’ll be okay because I was just trying to keep busy anyway.

I’ll have two kids. I’ll homeschool both. They’ll be a little awkward but no one will tell them that unless they admit it first. They’ll be cute. Maybe one of them will look just like me and I’ll change my mind about it all, life, love, loneliness, lawyers and death. But I have blonde hair and blue eyes and I like brunettes so they’ll probably both have

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brown hair and I’ll wonder deep down whether these are actually my kids...

I’ll try movies. I’ll try music. I’ll try dance. I’ll try cheating.

I’ll learn to snowboard when I’m 40. For a while, I’ll try patriotism and have barbeques in my back yard and smoke cigars named after famous fictional characters. I’ll buy a trampoline. I’ll get wasted watching football in dives with other middle-aged men. One guy will laugh so hard sometimes he has to run outside to puke in the gutter.

I’ll become a fisherman because someone I know is a fishing boat captain and I need some time alone. My wife and I will grow apart and one day she’ll tell my daughter our marriage wouldn’t have lasted if I wasn’t going away on trips so often. I’ll get washed overboard in a storm of stupidity and drown. The last thing I’ll remember is a blue recycling bin and maybe I’ll see a mermaid and maybe she’ll look like the OKCupid girl. I won’t have a Facebook so no one from high school will know. My wife, a little relieved actually, will nevertheless self-destruct and spiral into a drug-addled rage. She’ll remarry within the year to a man who likes to wear black in the summertime and rides a Harley while wearing Harley t-shirts. They’ll have sex on piles of slightly damp laundry. They’ll swing a couple times and call themselves swingers. They’ll never really quite understand one another, even after all this time.

I’ll sit here in the dark, smile embalmed by a glowing screen, listening to my roommates watch reruns of Futurama on Netflix so many times they don’t laugh anymore.

I’ll buy energy drinks at a dollar a piece and get scared when my chest gets tight and think there’s something seriously wrong with me. I’ll do my damned best to call my mom back. At night I’ll dream of silence.

I will fall to love.

mobroll Imagine biking with your friends all around Puget Sound seaside cities and going to concerts, alley cat races, art galleries, watching films, doing workshops, camping out, and going on critical mass bike rides.

Now stop imagining and do it. MOBROLL Festival is an annually reoccurring celebration of Pacific Northwest culture. B Side had the incredible opportunity to host the Bellingham leg of the festival last May.

The Loyalty of Literary Bellingham In this modern age of technological dominance, it is a wonder that an event like this even exists. Since 1995, poetrynight Bellingham has hosted its weekly Monday night readings at various venues throughout the city. With audiences ranging in size from 30 to 150, the seats at poetrynight are never empty of its writers, appreciators and newcomers.

Whatever your background may be, patrons are always promised their own new and unique experience. Each show consists of an open-mic segment, during which attendees are encouraged to step forward and share about three minutes of their own work. The only limits are those that the performers set for themselves. Theme, structure, voice—this is a safe space where none of them are constrained. An identity as a haven for free expression is proudly maintained at poetrynight.

Following the first set of volunteer performances, poetrynight also features readings by out-of-town writers every week. Made possible by donations from literary supporters, these special guests add a great deal to the spontaneity and excitement that comes with each show. Some of the more recent featured acts have included Aaron Samuels, Sierra Golden, Daniel Mark “DMP” Patterson and Stephen Meads.

Over the years, the gathering around poetrynight has been rooted into Bellingham society and has matured into a full-fledged organization, complete with flowering branches that can be seen throughout the community. One such branch is poetrynight’s budding initiative, Poetry in Public Education, more commonly known as PIPE. This program prompts middle school and high school students to quell their shyness with the power of creative writing. Since 2008, PIPE has been fostering this empowerment through student poetry readings, writing exercises, poetry lessons and literary discussions. It’s a fantastic opportunity for students to share their work with their peers. Featured poetrynight performers are also encouraged to participate in these workshops. Through the PIPE program, poetrynight continues the legacy of great literary minds by fostering the appreciation of words that has been kindled so thoroughly in the city of subdued excitement.

The reach of poetrynight doesn’t end there. In fact, poetrynight is expertly navigating the digital frontier, adding new ways for members to participate. If any are unfortunate enough to miss a reading, or if they are still curious about the organization, they need only log on to www.poetrynight.org. Once there, any visitor has access to free podcast recordings of each week’s readings. With over 100 episodes currently available online, there are more than enough inspired local artists to keep you company until the following Monday.

The man responsible for sending these voices into cyberspace is Boris Schleinkofer.

A member of the poetrynight board of directors for the last four years, Schleinkofer recently became president of the organization. He began attending poetrynight 18 years ago. He says that it is the opportunity for artistic expression and the friendly people that have been filling seats all these years.

The open-door, all-ages mentality of the poetrynight organization provides an environment in which the true art of the spoken word can be celebrated. At poetrynight, “there’s more [of] a free, relaxed environment that gives people room to experiment and play.” This unique and supportive environment assures that poetrynight will remain strong for generations to come.

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For over fifteen years, in coffee shops and classrooms, basements and concert halls across Whatcom and Skagit counties, poetrynight has provided opportunities for new and established writers to share their work. With the honor of having been selected for an unprecedented 2 Bellingham Mayor’s Arts Awards, poetrynight continues to shape the literary landscape of our region. Check out what all the fuss is about at poetrynight.org.

This issue’s comics brought to you by

Tim Mechling Tim Mechling is: a musician a visual artist a writer a thinking man’s clown

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as a child by nancy craig tumbleweeds scratching across the sand where horny toads and lizards claw through the scorching sand. sitting in the sun with my golden skin my big blue eyes and yellow hair. grandma Saylor in her apron shooing chickens in the yard feeding chickens plucking chickens the smell of the coop lingers on. the cool evening ground rattlesnakes our dog Butchie. the dinner bell rings we gather 'round. trillions of stars on a sheet of black. porch lights on cooling off cranking out ice cream.

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