Tarratine, Issue 1, Manifest/o by Tarratine Quarterly

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TARRATINE a quarterly of creative and critical conversations Vol. I: Spring Equinox, 2012 MANIFEST/O

Tarratine is a quarterly of creative and critical conversations in the Penobscot River Valley. Founded in 2011, it hosts ongoing, open discussions between those who engage, expose, and connect our community and beyond.

M A S T H E A D denise sears jess rowan kat johnson kierie piccininni louise contino maurice burford scott sherman tony sohns

TarratineQuarterly@gmail.com Tarratine Quarterly, c/o Rock & Art Shop 36 Central Street, Bangor, ME 04401 www.TarratineQuarterly.com TarratineQuarterly.wordpress.com Facebook.com/TarratineQuarterly

Gasconade, Ada Athorp - 11 Bedagi, Joseph Bruchac - 1 Portrait of a Manifesto as a Middle-Aged Madman, Edward Ferrell - 12 Untitled, Pigeon - 2 4 Stills, Cheshire Mcgloun - 13 Park Bench, Sheridan Kelley - 25

Sears Island Brook Freeze, Roger Merchant - 3 Pastoral, Scott Sherman - 14

A Feminist Manifesto/a, Sarah Hentges - 26

High, Callie Uleners & Mariam ParĂŠ- 4 Our Farm: Connect to Life for Connected Art, Trent Packard - 14

The F Word, Sarah Hentges - 27

Javelin, Kenny Cole - 5 MaineCare: An Interview with Donna Allen, Tarratine Staff - 16,17 Coral Reefs, Kenny Cole - 6

man on boat, Ginerva Shay - 28,29 14 Questions: Judy Taylor, Tarratine Staff - 18,19 Clippings of Sabina, Alexa Clavette - 30

Oil, Kenny Cole - 7 This is My Maine, Ben Mitchell-Lewis - 20 My Heart is Like a Savage, My HeartWould Like a Sausage, Nate Logan - 8

A list, or Manifest, of things you might need on your way, Sarah Farnham - 31

Shipped in 1849, Kathleen March - 21

SUPERGOAT, Gage Jones - 8 Booty Call Sonnet #33 (for Tori), Nate Logan - 9 90 Minutes is Half the Time of a 3-Hour Show, Adam Lacher - 9,10 Booty Call Sonnet #34 (for Rachel), Nate Logan - 10

Fence Post I, Clara Kazarov - 32 Stumped, Alison Melton - 22-4 For all your troubles, Caylin Capra-Thomas - 33 Prince, Sheridan Kelley - 24 Spooning Memories, Siglinde Langholz - 34,35

Untitled, Lawrence Reichard 25

Words of True Love Softly Planted, Shedding Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Fragrance Rare, Jessica Harris - 36

Sigwan, Joseph & Jesse Bruchac - 37

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Dear Reader, Tarratine wouldn’t exist without you and your support, so the first order of business is to thank those who chipped in to make this dream a reality. For those of you hearing from us for the first time, Tarratine was created after eight brazen individuals discussed the creativity burgeoning in the Penobscot River Valley. A viable Renaissance is sprouting up, but it needs a green thumb. Five months ago, a call for submissions went out. We waited, and in due time, a flood of material swept our doorstep. The works selected were curated to give the community something beautiful to hold on to and a challenge to bite into. This issue is the first manifestation of our vision. We thought Manifest/o a fitting theme for our inaugural printing. Tarratine is designed to honor the creative spirit of its contributors. The following content will stir emotion, provoke thought, and make room for fresh conversation. Thank you for reading. We’ve done our best to give you a feast for the eyes, heart, and mind. It’s our pleasure to showcase the talents of our neighbors, friends, and colleagues; but it’s you, dear Reader, that enjoys it. River Love, The Editors

Bedagi

Joseph Bruchac Greenfield Center, New York Spring has come again when you hear me call from the darkening sky, and feel in your bones the thud of my feet. My pure arrows seam the heavens with light. When they strike they may split the strongest trees. Some stories tell how I hunt dark beings, great snakes that coil beneath deep waters. Some call me Oldest Grandfather. If your heart is clean do not fear my voice. But listen as I pass by.

Bedagi is theWestern Abenaki name for the Thunder Being.

Untitled Pigeon Digital photograph Bangor, Maine

Sears Island Brook Freeze Roger Merchant Digital photograph Bangor, Maine

Film Still from High: A Balloonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Tale Callie Uleners & Mariam ParĂŠ Short Film with Original Song Portland, Oregon & Chicago, Illinois

Javelin Kenny Cole Ink and watercolor on found form Monroe, Maine

Coral Reefs Kenny Cole Gouache and ink on paper Monroe, Maine

This series, which I call “Manifestos,” is part of ongoing explorations into language as visual image and the role of the artist as visionary, soothsayer, and alleged presenter of “truth through beauty.” The work assumes that the viewer accepts some or all of these notions, or variations thereof, and challenges the viewer to question their position in this relationship. Each drawing began with a “charged” word, which I then expounded upon in both an authoritative and stream of consciousness-like voice, creating enough words to fill the sheet of paper. I felt that despite my disregard for accuracy in building my thesis, I was finding, reflecting upon, and speaking in a way that might hold a certain truth-like quality; anyone who might read them might experience a variety of feelings from enlightenment to unease, from to humor to outright incredulity, around otherwise socially-charged subjects. Aesthetically they have been created to be dense textures, made as a way of delaying access to the content of the language, which might only be discovered after much labor. Also, there are two secondary distractions in the form of circled word discoveries, much like word search. -Kenny Cole

Oil Kenny Cole Gouache and ink on paper Monroe, Maine

My Heart is Like a Savage, My Heart Would Like a Sausage Nate Logan Denton, Texas

I wish the intentions of my heart were like autoreply or something. For example, Re: Hurricane Nathan? Actually, it was Nate and lived for five days. That sounds depressing. It almost ate Bermuda. That sounds even more depressing— Re: Can hurricanes have second thoughts? I have none. With windows down, I’m parallel parking. Some orange blossoms flail in my nose; in the next yard over, a pizza box is open on a beach towel. When what you really really want is to cover territory, you start a pizza chain. The throbbing tomato in my chest is a fruit, not a vegetable like you’ve heard. How else could my looks be thirsty? How else do the hues of my eyes change? Inside at the party, the blood orange is at the bottom of the sangria bowl. I ladle it into a plastic skull goblet. I drink as fast as I can.

SUPERGOAT Gage Jones Marker and graphite on paper Glenburn, Maine

Booty Call Sonnet #33 (for Tori) Nate Logan Denton, Texas

The notion that any great sonnet by a poet was written because that poet fell under the spell of “a peculiar fascination” for the booty form is, in our humble opinion, the only reason for even showing the slightest bit of interest in sonnets. Dates ranging from 1651 to 1655 have been suggested in attempting to pinpoint the first sonnet(s) written to procure booty by way of, what is referred to today, as “smooth talking.” The literature of the time suggests that poets, men mostly, were the frumpiest inhabitants of England, and desperate to stop their melancholy feelings and excuses for “peculiar” stains on their ragged pants. Sonnets, in addition to more frequent bathing, helped poets accomplish their goals. And so dear reader, be wary of the poet whose specialty is sonnet craft—he may only want your booty.

90 Minutes is Half the Time of a 3-Hour Show, 6-10 (1-5, previous page) Adam Lacher 365 illustration series on Post-It Notes East Orland, Maine

Booty Call Sonnet #34 (for Rachel) Nate Logan Denton, Texas

At the opening reception, booty all over the walls. In the middle of the room there’s a vivid picture of a tiger, sitting on a leather couch, wearing a mustache disguise, but all anyone can see is tiger booty and it is off-putting. The artist is from Ohio, but that’s not her fault. The patrons are from Indiana, which is less forgivable. Perhaps, the artist thinks, the Midwest aches for booty. That the flyover country has given up on agriculture and Chicago and has decided the “great” in Great Lakes is really the wrong adjective to use. All the hopes of these people from oddly shaped states have manifested in hallucinations of booty. Their dreams have even become non-imaginative. Like this dream: a poet comes to a party with a birthday present. The present is booty.You wake up.

Gasconade Ada Athorp Pen and ink on paper Dedham, Maine

Film stills from interviews with Cheshire Mcgloun Cheshire Mcgloun Short film Portland, Maine

Portrait of a Manifesto as a Middle-Aged Madman (previous page) Edward Ferrell Digital illustration Location unknown

onnect to Life for Connected Art C : m r Fa Our

For those with the impulse to label this project nostalgic or backwards or a tail between the legs, retreat from the demands of progress. I must take a moment before we begin to remind or persuade you that while history may be drawn as a line, whether circular or straight, time and existence is actually a scatter plot of facts and philosophies onto which a history is selectively plotted. What you call progress, backwards and forwards, is only a matter of trends, contingent on technology, politics, nature, and the telling of history itself. The approach to art described below is old. It has existed since art itself, but so has the idea of progress; both still exist today, merely at opposite ends of the popularity spectrum. We view our task as necessary to reaffirm the values we believe are the driving force of history, which keeps it moving forward when technology and social-criticism renders culture exhausted and gasping for new breath. We challenge you to discover the common thread between the patient, uncompromising method of Flaubert; the living, breathing poetry of the taoist rebel, Li-Po; and the sometimes exuberant, sometimes melancholy, stream of celebratory-consciousness of the Beats. Our farm embodies this philosophy of art, which we believe must be revived if our culture is to quit it’s current cannibalistic tendencies and move forward to a new age. Agriculture professionals in America have a “sullen, callous expertise” and represent a “spiritual alienation-from-land-as-commodity.” 1 This shift has been described by the Kentucky author Wendell Berry throughout the second half of the last century. We must be reminded what it feels like when our land is an environment and that the possibility and practicality of commodification need not necessitate ‘land-as-factory’ mentalities. The farm is rather an organ of life, an extension of the body and specifically an extension of the creative mind that makes us a special kind of animal. To the extent we rely on our environment, we should not be alienated from it, yet we desire abstraction in every facet of life: time-saving technologies and rationalizations that equate efficiency with quality. This is not to say that there is not a place for factory farms in a world where too too many people cannot afford food and are not able to feed themselves, but we sense that malnutrition and ennui are the more pernicious aspects of our current condition. Much more so than the oft-publicized famine. And it is understandable that most farmers develop this cold investment relation to their creations after years and generations of feeding, cleaning, pruning, etc., but our question is not “isn’t this understandable, isn’t this what you would probably do if you were in that position,” our question is, “what would happen if we forced the malleable habit-formed aspects of ourselves to resist this change toward mundane routine in the most vital aspects of our lives.” Would taking a moment to realize, “Hey, this is beautiful” in a non-self aware, shamefully naive, and most hopefully human sense thinking, ‘shouldn’t this life be treated with respect through every stage from birth, day-to-day existence, and even (especially) the day of harvest or slaughter? How would this change the way we treat our families, our neighbors; For those of us who consider ourselves artists, how would it change the way we perceive our audience? After over a century of the modern art movement’s lamenting the postindustrial landscape and many decades of retreat and atomization through the use of post-modern inside jokes we are in need of a new raison d’etre. These wounds must not be constantly picked. A scab must be allowed to grow and rest. New strains of culture must appreciate the scar-tissue as life-affirming—as a mended leak on a sinking ship and a much more solid foundation for a new stage of enlightenment! The anxieties that created generations of aloof, callous, anti-believers must be seen in a historical perspective: as the generations that represent this transition. And here we are, wise and smug recalling the face of that calamitous change, and we are speechless in the presence of our idols. Our idols who tell us to tear down idolatry, and we idolize them for it. We are the wiser, and it is time to begin to build again upon our new wisdom and take the risk of seeming naive. We must slow down, stop our snickering, and believe in something, even though we know that just any something cannot possibly be all together true. Believe for the sake of belief. 1

David Foster Wallace. “Ticket to the Fair.” Harpers. July 1994. 39.

tten Wri

ackard by Trent P

Santa Rosa, California

Illustration by Scott Sherman

Grasp threads of truth and weave beautiful tales. Slow down. Not in the lazy, couch potato way that comes immediately to the cynical mind, but in the Flaubertian one-sentence-a-day-way: working in between hours of chopping and stacking wood, plowing, weeding, feeding, and mending. Immersed in the daily responsibilities of a sustainable life, the artists creations come closer to authenticity. We envision an organic farm where local farmers can learn more sustainable agricultural practices. The site will also function as an artist-residency where artists from a variety of disciplines can stay and work on the farm. By helping with the projects on the farm they work towards fulfilling our philosophy that, “there is an inextricable connection between the quality of the work the artists do to sustain their lives and the vitality of their art.” Learning about sustainable systems and community cooperation, and old and new technology, will affect every choice, aesthetic and practical, that the artist makes on a daily basis. The leisure time needed for artistic and technological innovation is created through cooperative action and the mastery of sustainable resource cycles. Our view is that a farming community and artistic community can be one and the same, and both endeavors would benefit from the collaboration. Our farm will be modeled on many similar sites across the nation: it will incorporate an organic garden, free farmed and/or organic livestock, an array of non-PV electric displacing and generating systems, an array of photovoltaic wind and hydro-electric energy generating systems, natural buildings, and multiple varieties of organic compost and biodynamic systems such as aquaponics. These aspects of the farm will provide service learning opportunities for the local community as well as the featured artists in residence and student-artists. Each person who lives on the farm will schedule their day around a forty-twenty-forty distribution of work, learning and creating. The underlying idea is to create a generous alternative to the urban working artists life, and a liberating fulfilling alternative to the subsidized artist’s creative process. We hope that by removing the artist from his/her fast paced, competitive, digitally organized, new-media socialized, and post-modernity-inspired environment we will alleviate the cynical, ironic, aloof and televisual ideations that we believe are suffocating contemporary art. The farm provides a deeper, more substantial connection to one’s basic spirit. We are not suggesting a retreat from post-modern life, but that post-modernity itself is a retreat into the comfortable numbness of alienation. Our response is a return to our individual selves, as humans with spirits and positive ideas: a reminder of a more thorough and principled approach to art; art as a practice of building up rather than tearing down; a living, breathing, ethics that envisions the spirit as requiring husbandry and cultivation as much as any animal or plot of land. Through patient and mindful development of a sustainable-symbiotic farm system, our students may find a more sustainable, organically developed method for their own art, which will infuse their aesthetic with a deep vitality altogether lacking in much contemporary art. If some ideologically and spiritually predisposed people could once again have the opportunity, albeit by different means, to orient themselves around an agricultural center (instead of the cheapest grocery store or government-sponsored food bank filled with empty calories, it would at least be a reason to hope—not only for continued existence, but for a better existence reconnecting the outer layers of their bodies with somewhere down deep in their souls. Our goal is, through a focus on creation rather than consumption, we may regain a comfortable relationship to our bodily rhythms by relearning a comfortable relationship with the earth and the universe. In doing so, art should express itself in the calm, rested, cadence of one’s breath, rather than the gasping, drug-enhanced, anxious, desperate to get it all out before the next inhale because it might very well be your last, (gasp) rhythm of the Beats. It is a new time—delightfully unassured but with a courageous and patient wisdom that proclaims (regardless of any capital-T Truth) we will find the strength to create.

TARRATINE: Can you tell us your background? DONNA ALLEN: I wear three different hats. The first is as the insurance coordinator at my husband’s business in the Bangor area. We’re one of the few local, small businesses that still pays 100% of insurance premium payments for full-time employees. Each year we see those costs rise 7-21%. I’m thinking that whenever the governor says, “Get a job,” it means get insurance through your company, but that concept is going down the tubes. When insurance takes a jump, the person in charge of the typical small business says, “This is my last year doing this,” or “My employees need to pick up a percentage,” or “We’re moving from a $1K deductible to a $4K one.” With annual price hikes, we have to be creative in our business.

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T: What else do you do? D: 28 years ago I originated and am still the primary organizer for the Neighbor’s Cupboard, a food pantry serving Winterport and Frankfort. We serve 25-30 families a week, including single folks. I’ll do the intake and ask, “What brings you here today?” Many clientele have lost their jobs and carry house or rental payments. They usually run through their savings before they come to us. Other families have disabilities or chronic illnesses like cancer. Some receive Social Security Income (SSI) Social Security Disability Income (SSDI). Income commonly ranges from $400-600 monthly, sometimes serving eight-member families. T: What’s your third hat? D: As a mother of a consumer. My son is on MaineCare as a severely disabled adult. It helps pay PT, OT, speech, and aide assistance, and thanks to that, he’s improving. His income goes to rent, utilities, groceries, and health payments. His ability to stand, walk, and talk are all in question with the supplemental budget if his providers have to lay off employees. T: How much does the supplemental state budget propose to cut from MaineCare? D: $221 million is the proposed cut. Seeing in the newspaper that 65,000 people will lose their MaineCare benefits is a shock. Imagine the stress for those who receive benefits, “Will it be me? Will it be my child? My spouse? Who in family will suffer?” It’s at a time where it’s very, very difficult to get private insurance if you’re employed with low income. How are you going to come up with even $100, $200, $300 a month for benefits? That’s not an option if you’re without a job or between jobs. Removing MaineCare is taking out a safety net for a huge group of people. With 1.3 million people in the state, this affects 5% of residents. T: What have you found in the supplemental budget? D: The Governor and Legislature’s responses changes daily. At first, the PNMIs1 were at risk. Now less so. At first, “non-categorical” young adults were to be cut. Now many will be cut through attrition and lowering the financial means test. The Legislature is softening the blow and plans for a two-third voting override of the Governor’s pre-announced veto. That way the budget will take effect immediately, bypassing a simple majority vote’s 90-day waiting period.

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T: The supplemental budget emphasizes that childless adults will be removed. D: I have many childless adults coming to the food pantry that can’t afford health care. They can’t afford it if they have to take care of relatives, parents, adult children, or young children. They can’t afford it if they’re young and out of work, or in a job transition. Even when they get a job, health care isn’t offered and the salary doesn’t afford insurance. The premiums are too high. Does McDonald’s provide health benefits? Macy’s? People may work two or three jobs to stay ahead. I just hope they stay healthy long enough to get affordable insurance.

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According to Maine.gov, Private, Non-Medical Institutions are “places where people live together to get help with personal care needs and other medical needs.”

T: Families with MaineCare-supported adult children have received letters stating they will potentially be pulled off in the next year. D: The danger with this is more people start using the Emergency Room for primary care, which they do now enough. You will get thousands of uninsured 19- or 20-year-olds using the ER when they turn unhealthy. [When they don’t pay,] the hospital will bill their insured customers more, leading to higher insurance rates. Which gets passed on to the business owners who may stop offering health benefits. It’s really not a good thing for Maine small businesses, and the governor is putting a monkey wrench in the whole system. T: Logjams in the ER lead to staff problems, budget shortfalls, and stop-ups in triage and bed management. 2 D: An interesting article with the Executive Director of Community Health & Counseling Services, President of St. Joseph’s Healthcare and Hospital, and CEO of Penobscot Community Healthcare—three major services for low income in the area—say the proposed reductions can result in service cuts, costs shifts, and layoffs severely affecting thousands of people across Maine. Those who are being laid off will have no money to buy health insurance and may opt to use the ER for primary care. It’s perpetuating the problem in two more ways. T: Would you say the vulnerable population has grown because of unemployment and a poor economy since 2008? D: Oh, I think it’s finally hit Maine in the last year. People are losing their jobs, hopeless about finding a decent job, or scared about keeping a part-time one. Now it’s hitting the young, college graduate population. There was always something out there before for one’s skills. T: What will happen to the people you see on a weekly basis at the Cupboard? D: I know more people in the food line will say, “Do I really need this trip to the doctor or ER now that I don’t have insurance?” This depends on how they measure the health risk if they can lose their housing or otherwise. I have a friend needing treatment, but she wants to wait for Medicare to start first (which will happen shortly) or she’ll have a massive hospital bill to pay. [The cuts] won’t solve anything but just put more people in vulnerable position, and a more stressful one. You don’t have a job. You don’t have your health. You already are needing a food pantry for your food. You’re going to be depressed. Some proposed cuts are mental health care cuts. I’m worried also about an increased suicide rate among this population and their caregivers. And you don’t have to be on MaineCare for that. I fully believe more people are going to suffer and die. Dr. Erik Steele 3 suggested that the“Maine health care community…and all others who do not wish to stand by [should] band together and refuse to let that suffering be invisible.” This will keep the situation in front of the Governor and Legislature.

T: The resounding argument is, “There’s a huge budget shortfall, and it has to change.” Do you think that’s true? D: I don’t think so with creative maneuvering and the Legislature working together. Every dollar has to be scrutinized. $400 million tax cuts have been made in the last year and there’s a $220 million shortfall in DHHS. $220 million—what would that tax be per capita to the state of Maine? Do our legislators get health insurance through the system? There should be a low-cost insurance everyone can afford. Put the premiums on a graduated scale that go into effect when people have no income. T: What, from the bottom of your heart, is the MaineCare system about? D: Well, I think you have to look at the word care. And the word Maine [laughter]. It’s about people in Maine caring enough. It’s a well-known saying that governments should be judged on the care and sustenance they give to their most vulnerable populations. Governments shouldn’t be judged on tax breaks, or how great their armies are, or high and innovative their bridges, but how they treat their people. They shouldn’t say, “We have an overdraft and let’s move them out of facilities.” These are the most defenseless people to sustain themselves in society—and they have the least clout. I think one of the reasons why these costs have grown over the years so suddenly and dramatically is because the consumers are out of work and need to use the system more than ever before. So for sure the system has to be able to build jobs and sustain health care while they’re getting jobs and improving themselves. As opposed to cutting all the benefits the moment they get into a position where they can pay for themselves. T: How should people get involved? D: Due to the number of people going to testify—or attempting to— there has been a groundswell for sustaining MaineCare. That’s good, but I don’t think the general public has any sense of impending doom. Everyone should ask their legislators to get involved in their community. Email ten questions and tell them it takes fifteen minutes to answer. If I was a legislator, I would go to my food pantry, to my PNMIs, to the clinics. I would get to know the providers and clients and ask how the budget cuts will affect them. What I get from my legislators is, “We don’t know what to do because we don’t want to make cuts to education or make cuts that affect everyone.” People in power tend to play one group against another. They say “I’ll be closing hospitals or I’ll be closing schools.” My response to that is, “I don’t see many kindergartners dying in the streets. Where you put the emphasis is up to you unless you can solve it creatively. Try harder. And don’t use fear tactics on us.”

T: So who will be less affected? D: Looking just at the MaineCare spectrum, children will be least affected. Though their older brothers and sisters and their families will be affected. I don’t know how the DHHS cuts to Head Start will affect the little kids who rely on speech therapy. 2

T: Why is LePage going after this vulnerable population? D: The governor’s big idea was tax cuts for us Mainers, which were implemented. Then, no surprise to anyone who plans ahead, there isn’t enough money to pay projected state bills. We can’t raise taxes, but we can cut services to the very vulnerable. He doesn’t want across-theboard cuts for the whole state budget, just in the department where the deficit is. There are probably some things in [MaineCare] that don’t need to be there, but define it. Where there’s corruption, tackle it. Don’t make 65,000 suffer for it.

Dale Hamilton, Mary Prybylo, Kenneth Schmidt. “Proposed cuts threaten Bangor healthcare.” Bangor Daily News. December 31, 2011. A7. Dr. Erik Steele. “Bear witness to Medicaid misery.” Bangor Daily News. February 9, 2012. 10:53 AM. http://bangordailynews.com/2012/02/09/health/bear-witness-to-Medicaid-misery

Maine Labor Mural Judy Taylor Oil on MDO Board, 96” x 432” Tremont, Maine 1. The Apprentice 2. Lost Childhood 3. The Textile Workers 4. The Secret Ballot 5. First Labor’s Day 6. The Woods Workers 7. The 1937 Strike 8. Frances Perkins 9. Rosie the Riveter 10. The Strike of 1986 11. The Future of Labor in Maine

T: It sounds like you were referentially linking your visual style with the WPA photographers, like Walker Evans, Dorthea Lange, William C. Pryor, and Lewis Hines. These artists set precedents for documentary photography, and the decisive moment where it became a form of fine art. Their work exposes narrative, revealing truth and story in a meaningful, immediate, and emotive way.

TARRATINE: To begin, please elaborate on what you meant in your public statement 1 published last year, “the theme of figure and context is what I set out to chronicle in my career as an artist.” JUDY TAYLOR: Well, I am really drawn to the human being and how their environment - or where they are at any time - develops them, and how to convey that in a painting. Whether that environment is their family environment, social environment, work environment, private environment, isolated environment, all these contexts and communication webs really interest me. The dynamics of human relationships have compelled me ever since I can really remember. It’s literature. You know what, it’s theatre. It’s theatre on a two-dimensional plane. My painting becomes theatrical in the sense that my work strives to visually depict a drama unfolding without the live action or dialogue available in a staged piece. This is what I’m most interested in working on as an artist.

J: Right. And it was such a strong graphic epoch for art. I mean, film also changed graphically in major ways during this time, for example the way shots were conceived in Film Noir and the great era of filmmaking in the 1930s and 1940s. For instance, every one of Hitchcock’s scenes is a great pictorial composition. It was a very strong movement. This whole era, these two decades, really influenced the imagery of American Art. The WPA was in some way the American Renaissance. Another key thing about the WPA and the film industry is that they paid artists. When you pay artists to do what they do best, you get really great stuff.

T: Even in your portraiture and landscape? T: How did your creative experience go throughout the production and installment of the mural before the controversy boiled due to it’s untimely removal?

J: Definitely. After the Maine Labor commission, I painted Dr. Barton Childes for John Hopkins. He was 93. I met him, I read his medical papers, and I didn’t understand, you know, pretty much everything because it was all genetics. But I sat in his office and we talked and I looked around, and there it was. The figure and the context is what I painted. And I was allowed to do it. He was behind the project, so it was really great.

J: I was so delighted that I got this commission. It was just perfect for me, for my work. I would only guess that I was chosen because I had a keen interest in history, created figurative work, and obviously was drawn to this kind of topic. I’m sure somebody else would have done it in a completely different

14 Questions: T: Let’s shift focus onto the Maine Labor Mural, because it’s still on a lot of people’s minds, especially with the recent, March 1 oral arguments in the Bangor Federal Courthouse for and against the re-installation. Critics have tied your mural to very specific political-art lineages, such as the work of Diego Rivera and Korean Communist paintings. Will you please clarify what arthistorical references you intentionally used in making this piece?

way, but through it all there was never any doubt about what should be put in and what should not be put in. And I say this entirely without hyperbole, the Maine Labor committee and Labor Commissioner came down twice to my studio to see how the progress was going and they were all enthusiastic. It was a dream. I’ve worked on commissioned pieces before and this was so unusual. Everybody was supportive, everybody was completely behind the project.

J: There’s not much comparison between myself and Rivera except that we were both dedicated muralists. Our personalities are very different, and so our work is wholly different. I made no study or reference of the paintings of propaganda in North Korea and Stalinist countries either. I don’t want to politicize my work. In no way do I desire to associate my art with these lineages.

T: Could you expand on what the collaborative research experience was like? How did working with Maine’s preeminent labor historian, Dr. Charles Scontras, influence or impact the mural’s aesthetic or content? J: Dr. Scontras was on the committee that selected the artist to do the mural, so I was introduced to him during my presentation before I got the job. And 2 then, afterwards, we corresponded, quite regularly, for the entire year. I read all of his books and a number of other books he recommended. I went to the Bangor Public Library to do archival research. I read a lot of Studs Terkel too. I went to small museums all over the state of Maine. I went to the Liberty Tool Barn and looked at tools. I talked with Mainers and collected stories. I also worked closely with a law professor from the University of Texas School of Law, Julius Getman, who had been really invested and worked a lot with the 1987 International paper mill strike. But my primary source was Dr. Scontras.

Certainly I’ve always looked at [other artists’] work. Like with multiple figure pieces by Caravaggio, or the paint quality of Velasquez. For this piece I especially looked at the starkness, the graphic quality, of the Worker’s Progress Administration (WPA) artists because a graphic quality is needed when you’re doing a big piece. People have said to me, “Oh! that’s so different for you,” but of course, I’m doing a mural. It’s very different than when I paint a portrait. You know, it’s a whole different style. Furthermore, it was historical, so I wanted it to have a seriousness. The muted palette and the black and white background are intended to instantly refer you to history. 1

Judy Taylor: “Judy Taylor Statement Maine Labor Mural March 30, 2011.” Bangor Daily News. March 30, 2011. <<http://bangordailynews.com/2011/03/30/politics/judy-taylorstatement-maine-labor-mural-march-30-2011/>>

September 2007 through August 2008.

T: You collaborated with Dr. Scontras after you were awarded the project, meaning you had already conceived of the aesthetic before your historical research began? J:Yes, or at least partially. I went through a lot of different ideas. I came to the final concept on a visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. While looking through the European Paintings wing, I came across a large Manet painting and it just sealed it for me. I immediately knew I would do these large figurative groupings in the front, then the background would be this black and white vignette pulled from history. The black and white images would continue the graphic quality of the mural and tie all the pieces together. The people upfront would engage the viewer in an emotional interest, I would hope. This is why they’re looking out to the viewer, to pull them into the historical narrative. There’s at least one character in each panel looking out. The intent was to engage the viewer in an interest to learn more about each panel, about each historic time. T: With these color-specific localities in history, was it Charles who helped you identify what those moments would be? J: Yes. It’s really hard to focus your research when you really are a student of art, or history, because you love all knowledge and you want to bring it all in. He was really my guide. Certainly I don’t think I could have done this without him. It was like having, in your right-hand pocket, a librarian that knew where to find everything and how to get it. T: What reasoning did you use to whittle down to the specific moments depicted in the mural?

T: Did the original installation have the impact you envisioned? J: Yes, although it was not really the idea spot for a mural, it was funny how it all worked because you couldn’t avoid it. The history was all around you. You could dig deep into [it] if you wanted to. That was its intended delivery. I did allow one full-scale reproduction of the mural to be recreated for a show in DC4 last year. The reproduction photos were printed on Gator Board almost to full size by Andy Graham at Portland Color. It has a whole different look than the mural itself - a really neat look, a very graphic look. But remember, it’s not the work. I hesitate because I don’t want anybody to directly connect it to the mural because it’s not the original paintings. T: Were you surprised that the mural images have found their way so far away from their intended venue? J: Yeah, I guess so. You know, it was really interesting and completely different experience. The Teamsters trucked the panels down to the DC area. It was quite a scene. I gave a lecture there, then the show hosted a panel discussion about the politics of art and the role of public art. What do you do with public art? How does it create controversy? The crowd was really informed about the whole thing. It’s amazing the feedback I get from all over the country and even some from overseas. I think the word has been adequately spread outside of Maine.

Judy Taylor J: We chronicled a huge amount of Maine labor history - I don’t know - an eighth of it? We had to narrow it down to seminal incidents. That was really tough to do because the room at the Maine Department of Labor was so small, it only allowed ten panels. We added the eleventh panel - the future of Maine labor panel - more than halfway through the project. For this panel, I changed my palette a little bit. I went from a warm grey to a cooler grey because I wanted a different tonality. It’s about the older generation passing on the knowledge and history to the younger generation. In the background are different industrie - medical research, laboratory sciences, high-tech industries, land conservation, tourism - new industries that we need to support.We added this because we wanted to indicate what Maine possibly needs to keep the youth invested here and endorse a vibrant economy here. I like to think of it as the pro-business panel. T: It’s an important panel to provide continuum into the present moment, into contemporary Maine. The narrative primarily weaves together the textile, manufacturing, lumber, and ship-building industries. There’s no prominent mention of Maine farmers in the mural. Was it purposeful to leave the agricultural industry out of the foreground? J: There’s so much rich history, we could have done 30 panels. There’s no rhyme or reason that we neglected it, and in the background on some of those panels there are representations of farming,3 so I tried to encompass more of the rich labor history. But it’s difficult to catch these details in the small thumbnails of the mural circulating in the media. It’s much easier to notice them at the original scale. 3

Examples include blueberry farmers in the Lost Childhood panel; and the corn canning and hat-making on The Secret Ballot panel.

T: Where are these reproduction panels now? J: The show was beautifully displayed for about a month, then they were trucked back. Now they are with Don Barry, the President of the Maine AFL-CIO. We’re hoping that in the summer, these particular panels can travel around Maine so people can - until the mural comes out of storage - actually see how it documents history and experience the panel images at their original dimensions. T: After the heated controversy around the mural removal of your public artwork by the LePage Administration, do you think it’s possible for it to ever be fully disassociated from politics? J: I don’t know. I hope so. I don’t believe that I’m a political artist, but I don’t want to be categorized as any kind of artist because, who knows, I might chose to do a political piece someday. Whatever I might chose will be my choice as the artist. It’s so easy to label, as we know. It’s so easy to label everything. I painted the history of Maine [labor] and that’s it. I had no labor union connections. I just studied with Charlie Scontras and we put this together. And like he said, “We always have our work to back us up.” We’re on pretty solid ground. It doesn’t matter what the Governor or anybody else says because we know what we did. 4

Metropolitan Washington Council, AFL-CIO. Celebrate Labor: Where Art and Politics Meet. Washington, D.C. August - September 2011.

This is my Maine

Ben Mitchell-Lewis Phippsburg, Maine When the fish come, we go. Twelve hours later I’m landsick, and the cooler is empty of ice and beer and full of two gutted stripers and a fat pollock. We throw it back into the car, put the rods in the ski rack on the roof, and Tim pilots the car back down the dirt road, away from the dock, towards home and the grill. Another two hours pass. The grill is cooling, I’m stuffed, and there are plates, beer bottles, and frying pans scattered around the kitchen. We’re sitting on the screen porch, on either end of the long table, reclining in our chairs, unbuckling our belts, sighing and sipping Dewars on ice. The porch is bucking all around us, partly because of the scotch and partly because my legs and head think they are still on the boat. It started early, but not too early. I woke at six, then took my time making coffee, eating a banana, and filling the cooler. I drove to the dock, slowly. Before I pulled my rods, bag, and cooler out of the truck bed, Tim screeched into the lot, spraying gravel. We nodded and unloaded, each carrying our respective loads down the hill to the dock. I organized while Tim sculled out to the Grady White and motored in from the mooring. I didn’t bother cleating the painter. I held the boat with one foot and handed the gear to Tim. He stowed it away—rods in the holders, bags below, cooler in the stern. I pushed off, swung aboard, and we motored on down the channel in the still, soft morning light. The lobstermen were already out, the gas dock was empty, no kayakers yet. Deer stood where the pines meet the rocks. I smelled salt and gas and wood smoke and pine. I brushed away a mosquito. This is my Maine.

Shipped in 1849

Kathleen March Bangor, Maine Foreign hands twice wrote of Wilhelm on the edges of his world letters like spiders tracing, gliding harsh gestures over parchment it is not so hard to will one into existence the arms can touch the water that swims beside the ship Wilhelm embarks after birth spindled, bespidered, misnomered, misplaced places he should know on the list, language(s) still not used, now replaced Something churns in this new port and is set on its way the one in watery meander crosses countries, but despite what the manifest claims it is clear to no one if he crossed the ocean in somebodyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s arms or in a coffin too small to know

The lumberjack as a cultural symbol appeared in American Pop culture in the early 1900s when James MacGillivray wrote the first Paul Bunyan tale. Adapted for an advertising campaign by William Laughead in 1914, Red River Logging Company compared Paul Bunyan’s size and logging expertise to the company’s new expansion and greater capacity for production. From his second birth at Red River, Paul Bunyan’s popularity, and literal size, ballooned over the next century to massive proportions, making him one of the most memorable characters in American folklore and the most famous lumberjack ever to exist without ever actually existing. Lumberjacks continued to populate mainstream media beyond Bunyan. In 2009, the Kool Aid Man log-rolled a bottle of soda in a commercial, while in another a lumberjack eating a Burger King meal lets himself get smashed by a tree before he will put down his burger. However, the most recognizable lumberjack campaign may be the 1974 Brawny campaign introducing the Brawny Man. The first Brawny Man wore a red plaid shirt and carried what looks to be an axe handle, but is most likely a peavey log carrying tool. Although outdated in today’s context, this image implied that the paper towels were big and strong, but also had a sensitive side—just like the man every housewife yearns for.

Wr itte n In addition to advertising, lumberjacks made an impact within popular television and music culture. Monty Python’s sketch comedy Ban by A gor lliso troupe parodied the image of the uber-masculine lumberjack in the 1969 cult classic “Monty Python’s Flying Circus” with a n ,M song commonly known as “The Lumberjack Song.” An excerpt from the song boasts the following lyrics, ain Melt on e

I’m a lumberjack and I’m OK I sleep all night and I work all day He’s a lumberjack and he’s OK He sleeps all night and works all day I cut down trees, I skip and jump I like to press wild flowers OnWednesdays he goes shopping And has Buttered Scones for tea.1

Nine years before Monty Python, in 1960, Johnny Cash released the album, amongst others related to old, difficult, manly professions across America. 32 2 “The Lumberjack,” describing an insouciant, oversexed lumberjack who sang, 2 saw you.” Lumberjacks have become a nuanced and novel representation of plaid-painted chest, a rough exterior, and sporting a sharp axe. masculinity. While he it is easy to parody such an extreme American Lumberjack who worked long hours in the

Ride This Train, with the song, “Lumberjack” years later, the 90s hair band, Jackyl, released “I ain’t jacked my lumber baby, since my chain masculinity in American culture: rippling muscles with a broad, He is a man’s man. He is a cultural symbol, a personification of version of a man, this description is not too far from the original woods in effort to supply wood for a burgeoning nation.

However, the logging industry changed with the advent of the chainsaw. Logging trucks and skidders replaced mules and logging sleds. The History Channel’s Axe Men, Discovery Channel’s American Loggers, ESPN’s Stihl Timbersports Series depict a new forest industry, with new and modern tools. Athletes in Stihl’s Timbersports Series—all male until the recent introduction of the women’s boom running and logrolling competition—compete with new tools like chainsaws powered by snowmobile engines, and laser cut crosscut saws and axes. The only aspect of most timber sporting events that is historically accurate is the physical technique used to chop and saw through the wood, which itself is a historical leap because, as the tools have changed over time, the methods of using them have also changed. Regardless of the historical accuracy or inaccuracy, chopping and sawing wood has become a sport that is expanding across the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and even extending into Europe.

P M S TU

The biggest growth in timbersports happened during the 1960s in Hayward, Wisconsin at the start of the Lumberjack World Championships. Hayward has hosted the United States’ version of the World Championships every year since 1960 and has produced some of the best log rollers and boom runners in the world. In addition to competitions, lumberjack shows started popping up all over the United States as a form of hired entertainment.The three most popular shows are Scheer’s Lumberjack Show in Hayward Wisconsin; the Great Maine Lumberjack Show in Trenton, Maine; and the Great Alaskan Lumberjack Show in Ketchikan, Alaska. Although each show differs from the rest, the shows usually features four athletes and one emcee, where the athletes are divided into two teams and the audience into subsequent cheering sections. Teams compete against each other in events such as underhand chopping, standing block chopping, crosscut sawing, axe throwing, chainsawing, logrolling, and pole climbing. Some shows even have comedy skits to enhance the theatrics of the show. Arguably, the most talked about show is not a lumberjack show, but the original all-female timbersports show owned and operated by Tina Scheer: Timber Tina’sWorld Champion Lumberjills, the “Chics with Axes” [sic]. Tine Scheer also operates the lumberjack show in Trenton, Maine’s Downeast Region. Timber Tina’sWorld Champion Lumberjill Show is comprised of a group of professional axe-wielding women from all over the country who perform exhibition-style timbersports events—just like the men. 1 2

Terry Jones, Michael Palin, and Fred Tomlinson. The Lumberjack Song. Monty Python’s Flying Circus. 1969. Dupree, James. “The Lumberjack.” Jackyl. Jackyl. Geffen. 1992.

It is difficult to pin a precise year on when the term joined the lumbering vernacular, but women first filled the logging boots of men who went to war during WWI & WWII.The British Women’s Land Army had a specific group of women designated to foresting and processing timber called the Women’s Timber Corps; they lived in all-female lumber camps and stayed fully involved in the lumbering process as men had been required to before the war.This group of women opened the door for contemporary lumberjills. Most of today’s lumberjills are found swinging axes and running chainsaws within the circuit of professional wood chopping competitions, some even find themselves working professionally within the logging industry. The “lumberjill” concept is foreign to the clichéd stereotype of the super masculine lumberjack. During performances of the Lumberjill Show, the spectacle of fit, attractive women holding sharp, heavy axes - preened for a man’s job - surprise the audience. Scheer’s Lumberjills become pseudo-celebrities that teeter on the line 3 between fame and normalcy. According to Daniel Boorstin, we see greatness as an illusion; or, if it does not exist, we suspect we know it’s secret. By nature of being on a stage, the crowd suspects that, even though they have not heard of the Lumberjills outside of the fair, they must have some notoriety that makes it worth knowing more about them.The worthiness of celebrities in relation to the fame given to them by the public is often debatable based on the amount of perceived skill or greatness that exists in comparison to the normal lay person, but in reality the construction of a celebrity is tautological in the sense that the celebrity is a person who is known for his well-knownness.4 The concept is based somewhere between reality and illusion. If one of the defining qualities of celebrities is their ability to be recognized by the general public, the Lumberjills are a special type of celebrity.They are, as Michel Foucault would describe, “heterotopic” and “liminal” stars that exist only for short periods of times in small, localized areas. Synthia Sydnor describes liminal spaces to be a certain freedom in juggling with the factors of existence, to be famous for a few seconds, to speak the forbidden, to reverse social order, to tease societal taboos: liminal spaces are becoming places where the old rules may no longer apply, where identities are fluid, where meanings are negotiated.5 As liminal beings, the Lumberjills float between normalcy and celebrity. When considering the attraction many viewers have to the Lumberjills, it is beneficial to look at the reversal of traditional gender roles. In a society in which women have not held equal rights in the past, and some argue that gender biases still seem to exist in favor of men in the working place, the Lumberjills mirrors this biased space. The only real prerequisite for becoming a lumberjill is to be genetically female. Obviously there are some women with body types better suited for heavy lifting and axe swinging, but the woman need not know how to chop wood or start a chainsaw at first, as this is something that can be learned. In Heterotopias, Michel Foucault references mirrors in his description: I believe that between utopias and these quite other sites, these heterotopias, there might be a sort of mixed, joint experience, which would be the mirror. The mirror is, after all, a utopia, since it is a placeless place. In the mirror, I see myself there where I am not, in an unreal, virtual space that opens up behind the surface; I am over there, there where I am not, a sort of shadow that gives my own visibility to myself, that enables me to see myself there where I am absent: such is the utopia of the mirror. But it is also a heterotopia in so far as the mirror does exist in reality, where it exerts a sort of counteraction on the position that I occupy. 6

Logger Roger Merchant Digital photograph Bangor, Maine

Objects in mirrors exist as backwards reflections of their actual selves and the Lumberjills show is a mirror, most specifically, to the many traveling lumberjack show companies in existence. The lumberjack and the lumberjill shows incorporate most of the same events and some shows even incorporate the same scripted comedy bits; the major difference between the shows is the gender of the employees. The lumberjack, a sharp reminder of the lumberjill’s duality, never appears in the allfemale cast of the World Champion Lumberjills. In addition to the show itself, the feminine and masculine are mixed within the lumberjill’s bodies, as they are heterotopic in build. They are female bodies, conditioned through repitition of activities activities, which require great amounts of strength and agility. Conscious of femininity and sexual orientation, most of the lumberjills have long hair, wear makeup, and sport sequins on their otherwise male-assigned plaid outerwear. Steel-toed logging boots replaces feminine footwear. These cultural signifiers create a gendered repository in which spectators reaffirm assumptions of male-female character roles. But their bodies are hard with the most noticeably developed body part being the areas of the arms and shoulders. The arms aren’t thin, non-muscular arms: they are working arms that have visibly defined bicep muscles and broad shoulders, which have become defined by repeatedly lifting a six-pound axe overhead. 3 4 5 6

Boorstin, Daniel J. From Hero to Celebrity. The Image: A Guide to Pseudo-events in America. New York: Vintage. 1992. 75-9. Ibid. Sydnor, Synthia. “Sport, Celebrity and Liminality.” Pages 221-233. Games, Sports and Cultures. Ed. By Noel Dyck. New York: Berg. 2000. Michel Foucault. Heterotopias. Of Other Spaces. Paris: Architecture. 1967.

Even the Lumberjills logo borders on this androgynous line between the feminine and masculne. Whereas lumberjack shows typically feature a strong, burly Paul Bunyan (perhaps with trusty stead Babe the Blue Ox nearby), the Lumberjills logo is two crossed axes in front of pine trees. This logo has no gender. The duality of femininity and masculinity in the Lumberjills show is one of the biggest draws for audiences, however there is no pictorial representation—most likely as it is difficult to associate a visual symbol with this idea. The question arises: how does one design a feminine logo for a masculine activity? What does femininity look like? The logo could feature a lumberjill, but how will she be depicted as feminine? Will she be sexy with thin arms, long hair, prominent breasts? Will she be so feminized that she appears weaker than Paul Bunyan in the Lumberjack Show logo? Or will she be depicted as masculine and comparable to Paul and fall prey to stereotypical traits of lesbian, butch? The liminal space is not one thing or the other, and “its other” at the same time it is neither one . If the logo remains genderless in person, it could be feminized through other means such as through the usage of font. Scripted and handwritten fonts may be associated with the feminine, while blocky, rigid bold type fonts may be seen as masculine. A female mascot seems to be a lose-lose situation. The Lumberjills exist in a betwixt state, like an adolescent stuck in the heterotopic crisis between adulthood and childhood. The women have mixed identities that flip-flop throughout the year: one day they will be mothers, students or nine-to-fivers, the next day they will take on the role of one of Timber Tina’s World Champion Lumberjills. Each abandons her identity for another as they make the transition back and forth. They are feminine while acting masculine. They are entertainers and historians.They are celebrities while still remaining everyday people.This heterotopia applies to all lumberjills who engage in the sport, beyond Scheer’s band.This in-between state is by no means a negative space for the Lumberjills to occupy. It is rather a space and an instance of being makes the Lumberjills Show and lumberjills as a profession inherently interesting. It is this in between-ness that people find intriguing and instills enough curiosity within them to want to take a seat in the grandstands. This dichotomy of gender, lifestyle, and histories is the backbone of our society and is mirrored in every performance involving a lumberjill, and in part, in other sports and professions whose myth originates with the male gender.

Prince Sheridan Kelley Illustration Orono, Maine

Ah, to put one foot in front of the other -Lawrence Reichard Bangor, Maine

Park Bench Sheridan Kelley Illustration Orono, Maine

Written by Sarah Hentges

A Feminist Manifesto/a

Like the word “history,” the term “manifesto” is not inherently sexist. Its “man” beginning and “o” ending do not mean to exclude women. Manifesto might not even need to mount a defense of inclusion like the term “Chicano,” for instance, whose “o” ending is excused as both masculine and inclusive of the feminine in terms of language. (Chicana is not recognized by spellcheck, but this feminine form is recognized by feminists.) And perhaps, on the level of language, it is ironic that “history” reads as if it means “his story” despite the fact that the Greek root of the term—historia, meaning inquiry or knowledge acquired by investigation—is not gendered (like manifesto’s Latin root is not). It doesn’t matter; the effect is the same and conscious women and men take offense not at the root, but at the application and effects—at the reality of history that is told from a particular gendered, politicized view. The “his” is just convenient, coincidental proof of bias. “Manifesto” might be similarly limited. Amy Richards and Jennifer Baumgardner recognized this when they published their co-authored: ManifestA: Young Women, Feminism, and the Future. The “A” is emphasized. A new form of manifesto is created—one that recognizes the importance of the realities of women, the possibilities of feminism. * We do not like to admit that our understanding of reality is, at least in part, rooted in our language. We often mock political correctness, feign confusion over the reclamation of “the n word” or the word “queer,” or minimize the feelings of those of us who feel left out by certain language. And yet it is easy to make just about any word hateful, perverted, hilarious, or deeply meaningful through context or tone. Bad can mean good and hot can mean cool. Misunderstanding and manipulation are manifest in our language. And manipulation and misrepresentation are what dominant culture has done to the word feminist. In some circles, we refer to feminism as “the f-word.” It is a word that is culturally weighted, skewed, manipulated, misrepresented and used to minimize political women. It is used to disempower. Both men and women use this f-word to cut, maim, undercut, or immobilize. A well-worn activity used in women’s studies 101 classes across the U.S. reveals the toxicity of this word. “How many of you consider yourself to be a feminist?” One or two brave hands may be raised, tentatively or tenaciously. Confused looks abound. And there is a lack of willingness to commit to a label imposed by a word that lacks a concrete definition in students’ minds. Some say no. Some say maybe. Most say ... I don’t know. “How many of you agree that women should be allowed to attend college and work outside the home? That women should be allowed to vote and hold public office? How many of you think you should be able to choose what is done to your body and by whom it is done? How many of you think that a woman who does the same job as a man should be paid the same?” Students realize that not only do they not know what a “feminist” is, but that they have been misled to stereotype all feminists as: manhaters, women who don’t shave, lesbians, sluts, extremists, in-your-face protesters...and if we have been misled by a word, if we have received an inaccurate historical view of women, if we have believed stereotypes as truths, what other truths might we not know? This is where we begin. This is where we begin to write, speak, and think our feminist manifestos/as. This is where we begin to see beyond what is manifest. * In Maine, this manifest manufactured ignorance regarding feminism has insidious affects on women and men. My students are survivors of rape, incest, abuse, sexual violence, domestic violence, low expectations, controlling parents, early pregnancy, limited world-views, and denials of self. Over the course of a semester, many women change their lives. They realize their worth or they have confirmation and legitimization of beliefs they already hold. They may not all embrace feminism and run with it, but they work to better understand it as a concept, a philosophy, a methodology, a way of life, and a way of improving their lives and the lives of their families. A few brave men realize: 1) they have been misled about the roles, lives, and contributions of women, 2) they have been misled about what it means to be a man, 3) they have work to do—on themselves and their society. Students learn that feminism is not a fixed label or set of assumptions. They learn that it is malleable. And many make feminism manifest in their lives. They leave their abusive husbands, ask for more equity in raising their children, heal old wounds, ask for that raise they’ve been due, embrace their education, engage loved ones in discussion, change their mothering/parenting approaches, critique media messages, find their voice, or join a cause. They survive. Some thrive. These effects may fade over time but they are still there. They are now manifest. On the surface or below it, feminism cannot be erased. The f-word becomes a tool to be brandished when it is useful, shaped when it is not fit for the job at hand, and sharpened when circumstances require. Feminism is a tool for survival, a tool for transformation. We must work to manifest(o/a) it.

The F Word: A Manifesta Designated by “F” (as if we did not know the whole word) Feminist and Fuck Are both bad words You should not call yourself a ________ (and whether a feminist or not) You should not want to _______ You should not hold political opinions or Flesh and blood desires You should not build community or Break down barriers Between body and mind You should not ostracize yourself by qualifying yourself for a label (SLUT) Pursuing carnal knowledge or social justice You should not remember that Feminists come in a variety of shades And fuck is also a four-letter word Used for power and to dis-empower through many incarnations F words are flesh—body & soul Full of pleasure and passion Tools for Fearless Fucking feminists.

Must I Paint You a Picture, Panel 4 detail Kat Johnson Gouache on birch board Bangor, Maine

man on boat Ginerva Shay Chromogenic print Baltimore, Maryland

a list, or Manifest, of things you might need on your way Sarah Farnham Bangor, Maine

love let’s collect things together little elephants and metal kitsch that catch our eye in some far-away market, some road-side distraction. let’s have a place to put things together, a mutual space. like a house, let’s have a house where we dance and make love in every room. let’s christen this house with beer spills and homebrew in the bathroom closet. i’ll knit beer cozies and you’ll make dinner. we’ll compost and snuggle under down-filled covers we find for cheap. in a big wide wood bed someone gives us for free. let’s find art and poetry and magic in everything, playing house by our rules and building forts in the living room if we like. let’s argue about rent until you realize we share everything anyway. oh, and let’s find a place we both love, a warm and cozy place with a library and a sunroom, in a city we both love and care for, with plenty of friends to have over for tea and beer and pastries. this remains not-to-be-published for awhile. for now, I will stay in bed after you leave for work and remember where your silverware is and try to love the cats as much as you. i have to be frugal with all of this sentiment, doling it out in rationed bits that remain safe for me to lose. i’d like to tell you today that I would like to live with you, but that is too much and it might be a lie; i can’t predict the truth anymore.

Clippings of Sabina (previous page) Alexa Clavette Digital photograph Eddington, Maine

Fence Post I Clara Kazarov Wood, embroidery floss, muslin pheasant wing, gold leaf Chicago, Illinois

For all your troubles

Caylin Capra-Thomas Boston, Massachusettes I drank all the liquid they gave me & I don’t feel anymore alive but my headache is gone. My headache disappeared like the flower in the vase that they put on my table. I must have swallowed that too. I can’t remember the name of the flower & I pull on the sleeve of a waiter to ask, What was it? A carnation? A chrysanthemum? & he shrugs because he is not a gardener. He will not tend to my garden, not even if I paid him. He pours me more coffee. I ask for more water. It was a carnation, I think. Maybe a chrysanthemum. Some soft name that didn’t fit the pointed petals & I turn to the patron behind me & ask: Does no one else read death into every spiked thing? & she shrugs because she is not a psychologist. She is just a coat over a hard, thin body & I wonder if she might just be a coat rack. I look around & see that everyone is wearing coats on hard, thin bodies. I ask if I’m in the coatroom but none of the coats respond. The waiter returns with my water & I make him consider the Washington monument: & he says you’re giving me a headache. Then the first woman like a coat-rack gets up & says she’s going to church, kisses the gloves of another coat-rack & I think about churches: how their spires deflate the clouds. & the woman with the gloves tells me it’s a phallic thing, obviously & I say she could use a cooling down, so I offer her the water & pour the coffee into the vase that once held the white chrysanthemum —maybe it was an aspirin, or a cloud— but yes, I definitely swallowed it along with the rest of the suffering sky.

See how it pierces the sky?

Spooning Memories, a 550-day project, seeks to collect and exchange narratives and memories from national and international communities via a simple object: a metal spoon.Time, space, and interaction are emitted and absorbed via the spoon, springing to life diverse social contexts and processes. Join this collaborative community project to generate new social interconnections. Send three spoons and include a tag with each that reads your name, date, e-mail, city, and state, as well as a word and a description of it. Mail to: 426 Chadbourne Hall, University of Maine, Orono, ME 04469-5713. For more info: http://spooningmemories.weebly.com

Spooning Memories Siglinde Langholz Conceptual, collaborative art Orono, Maine / Puebla, Mexico

Sing Out Monica Corbin Original Song with Film San Francisco, California

Clementina’s Sunday Dinner Mark Paçan Film Washington, D.C.

Words of True Love Softly Planted, Shedding Its Fragrance Rare Jessica Harris Illustration on found sheet music Ellsworth, Maine

Sigwan

Joseph & Jesse Bruchac Greenfield Center, New York I play my flute and the small birds answer, their wings fill the sky like bright colored leaves.

n’papi n’pikwa8gan ta sibsisak 8zidawak, welgwana psanasokw ta8lawi gagezajtagil wanibagol

I play my flute and the lakes and rivers open their eyes after their long sleep.

n’papi n’pikw8gan ta nebesal ta siboal t8wdana wsizegw8l anegitta w’kwenigaow8ganw8l

I play my flute and the earth casts off her white blanket, clothes herself in green.

n’papi n’pikw8gan ta ahki w’ngad8 w8bigek maksa ahim agmatta askaskwi.

I play my flute and the southern wind, its breath soft as the fawn, comes dancing again.

n’papi n’pikw8gan ta sowanesen, nasaw8gan nokigen ta8lawi wskinolka s8khiga mina. n’papi n’pikw8gan ta aw8sisak 8bedalimoak wji w’wawaldamen8 nd’elintow8gan ta w’mikwaldamen8 n’wizw8gan.

I play my flute and the children laugh for they know my song and remember my name.

nd’ai Spring. nd’ai Sigwan.

I am Siguan, I am Spring.

In the standard orthography used for Abenaki, a figure eight (8) represents a nasalized “un” sound.

This inaugural edition of 500 copies was printed at Northeast Reprographics in Bangor, Maine and hand-sewn by the Tarratine staff at Rock & Art Shop, during the Spring Equinox 2012. Two typefaces were used throughout the publication. Perpetua is a transitional and monotype masterwork designed in the 1920s by Eric Gill. Futura, formed by geometric forms and intentionally references the Bauhaus movement, was designed in 1927 by Paul Renner. Marvel in Futura’s near perfectly round stroke of the letter “o.” The cover was designed by Maine artist and designer Kat Johnson. man·i·fest Middle French from the early 14th century, Latin origination “hand” and “struck” or “to strike” Adjective: to be distinctly perceived by the senses; easily understood by the mind without obstruction; obvious or palpable. Verb: to make evident to the mind; to show plainly; to put beyond doubt; to reveal. Noun: a customs document that itemizes the cargo, passengers, and all other contents carried by a shipping vessel for a specific destination. man·i·fes·to Italian from the mid 17th century, Latin origination of “to make public” Noun: a public declaration that justifies previous actions and/or proclaims the intention(s) for forthcoming actions. Often associated with political and social movements. Tar·ra·tine Originating in Latin’s terra and -ine from the English, Tarratine means earth-like or to contain the properties of earth, but no one is entirely sure of the etymological origination as one, uniform word. Anthropologically, the name Tarratine was supposedly ascribed to the northern Abenaki and Micmac people by tribes located primarily in Nova Scotia and Maine. It is said to have been assigned to these peoples by tribes of Massachusetts during the 17th century. Geologically, the Devonian Tarratine Formation is oceanic sediment limestone found in Northwestern Maine, particularly in Somerset County, though due to glacial movement has been distributed through a better part of the state. It oft contains fossils and has a maximum thickness of 10,000 feet. A good place to view it is in the Enchanted Cave. Culturally, The Tarratine Club was founded by former Vice President and Mainer Hannibal Hamlin. It incorporated on March 12, 1884 to fulfill a long-felt need for social life in the city of Bangor. Mr. Hamlin was almost certain to find his way there every afternoon for a game of cards, except Sunday.

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