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Nests . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Christine Salvatore
Nests
By Christine Salvatore
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I.
Because we are always in need of distraction,
this year it is the birds we want to know all about.
House Sparrow. Carolina Wren. We get closest to the wren
as she builds her bowl-like nest next to our front door,
lays five eggs, startles each time we come and go. Four weeks
pass by. The wren abandons her unhatched eggs. We forget
about birds for awhile but don 't dispose of the nest because
it' s trying to tell us something, I think, about our divided home.
divorced. Unlike the wren we cannot move on.
II.
I am trying to write about a bird. A bird and a nest.
I am trying to write about the nest. The bird could be
the me that I want to be, who understands a futile
endeavor, who abandons the nest, who knows when
it' s time to take flight. If there was any grieving in
her empty bones, she took it elsewhere in the end, away
from the home she made, away from the failure that found her.
Will a distant bough, even broken, still support her song?
Christine E. Salvatore received her MFA from The University of New Orleans. She currently teaches literature and creative writing at The Richard Stockton College of New Jersey, Egg Harbor Township High School, and in the MFA Program at Rosemont College. She is a Gerealdine R. Dodge Poet and her poetry has recently appeared or will appear in The Literary Review, The Cortland Review, Mead Journal,Prime Number Magazine and in The Edison Literary Review. Her poem, Betrayal, was a finalist in the Southeast Review ' s 2014 Gearhart Poetry Prize. She is the recipient of a 2005 Fellowship from the New Jersey State Council of the Arts.
The yelling picks up once again, the police are deciding who should shoot Ayed. She must be shot; she is a rogue elephant who just killed a man. The trainer and his son sit on the guardrail; the father covers his son ’ s eyes. No man wants to shoot an elephant; no man wants to shoot a mother. She is a mother who just watched a man kill her daughter. I think of my mother ’ s wrinkles that only came after I moved into the city.
In the confusion, Ayed’ s ears go limp. Her breathing slows to a groan. She is wailing crying. Her trainer tries to reason with the police, every machine gun pointed in the same place. Ayed looks into the windows of the bus. I imagine she sees the tourists ’ faces, horrified and crying. She walks past the bus slowly. Sorrow is also a universal language.
Finally I hear the police officers decide. The Chief will shoot the elephant. They follow the groaning sobbing mother as she marches off the Sarighat Bridge. I hear no shots but I see Ayed in the distance fall on the bank of the Brahmaputra River. No shots were fired but her body goes limp in the dust.
The mother makes one more exhale into welcomed death. It is bad luck to start the New Year without family. All of the drivers exhale with her and begin to cry.
Today the trash in the Brahmaputra River floats by like an elegy of alligators and minor notes. I think I will fly a kite with my mother tonight.
Alyssa is a newly-certified adult, living and working in Philadelphia, PA. She graduated from the University of Delaware in May of 2014 with degrees in Women and Gender Studies and English Writing. The day after graduation she began working with Gearing Up, a fantastic nonprofit aimed at empowering women in recovery from abuse, addiction, and incarceration to ride a bicycle. When she ’ s not working or writing, Alyssa is watching Netflix with her girlfriend, playing with her cat, or riding her bicycle.
SUZANNE COMER
A R T I S T
Suzanne Comer is a Philadelphia-based artist who was formally trained in oil painting and printmaking. Since 2002 she has explored photography as her primary artistic medium. She is a long-time contributor to Philadelphia Stories and recently took the time to share with us some of her experiences with the magazine over the past ten years.
Congratulations on your recent inclusion in the book Extraordinary Gifts: Remarkable Women in the Delaware Valley, published by PS books. Can you briefly describe your contributions to this collection?
Thank you. I felt honored to have been selected for such a wonderful book.
I often create photomontages from sections of photographs I have taken at local gardens. One of my favorites is the Morris Arboretum, which was developed from the botanical collections of Lydia Morris and her brother John.
The two photomontages I created for the book were based on photos I had taken at the arboretum. Since Lydia had a passion for the rose garden, I created one piece featuring the hand of a woman I came upon, holding some of the flowers that had fallen there. My second photomontage honors the garden as a whole, using images of its autumn glory.
Do you see your work as being part of a greater social narrative or do you tend to view your art as more of a personal experience?
My work is part of a greater narrative in that I focus on the beauty all around us, most importantly in nature, which is often on the brink of destruction. But my creativity is deeply personal and always reflects my inner core and perspective. While each photomontage has a personal meaning for me, I also want the viewer to form their own interpretations of what they see and create new meanings.
When did you first begin experimenting in the arts?
I began drawing as a small child. One of the earliest pieces I recall doing was a tiny book about a rabbit, using colored pencils. On each illustration I glued pieces of cotton for the rabbit’ s tail. I have been experimenting with a variety of different art forms ever since.
I find it interesting that you initially came from a background in painting, but later turned to photography. What made you interested in photography?
Having worked in the commercial graphics field for many years, I had taught myself how to use Photoshop. I had always taken family snapshots and once I started experimenting with a digital camera, I saw that my photos could be combined and manipulated to create a digital art form.
I normally don ’t consider a single photograph to be an end product. My photographs are materials, like oil paints, with which to create an assembled final piece. Possibilities for working in this manner are end-
less.
What is a typical starting point for one of your pieces? I.e., do you begin with an image, a story, an emotion, etc.?
I always begin with taking photographs. Then, I am either inspired to create something from a set of photos I’ ve taken or perhaps a strong emotion will direct the piece. I also like the challenge of creating for juried shows, often with a specific theme.
I don ’t have a preset image in my mind of how a project will look. I let it evolve. I liken it to sculptors who often describe how their image emerges from the stone. That is the same feeling I experience when I create a new piece.
You ’ ve been a long-time supporter of Philadelphia Stories. How do you believe the magazine benefits the local arts community?
I cannot say enough good things about Philadelphia Stories and its founders: Christine Weiser and Carla Spataro. They are true visionaries with brave, trailblazing instincts, who created an inspiring magazine and publishing company. I am in awe of what they have done and continue to do to support writers and artists.
I am especially thrilled with how they include visual artists in almost everything they do. The attractive artwork included in the magazine draws people to it, where they are then captivated by the literary works. It is a brilliant combination. I know of no other creative venue that is so supportive of artists and writers.
Are you currently working on any projects?
I am currently in the photographing phase. Since I am a colorist, fall and spring are my most active shooting times. I can ’t go to the art store to pick up materials, so I have to continually be aware of photographing what I will need for my process. I have some concepts I would like to explore, as well as photographs I would like to eventually use in future projects.
Like all things in life, my works change and evolve. That is the goal of an artist—as it is for any person in life—to learn from each experience, grow, and develop.
