The Iskra Journal

art | politics | community | connection

Category: sense of place

  • August, more than anything, is defined by the color of grass. City lawns have turned ochre, weedy, crewcut, no longer “lawn” so much as a prickly protectorate embedded with the swords of dandelions, across which no one dare walk barefoot. It is a landscape of exhaustion, where play is reduced to dereliction and the toys…

  • I first began to hear the phrase “sense of place” in the late 1970’s. At that point in my life my experience of travel was limited. I had no car, no money, no formal education beyond the 10th grade of highschool, and a three-speed bicycle. I lived in a 400-square foot studio with cut glass…