Amphibian
In my sleep, in my sleep, I am pulses of purple. My eyes
I can see from the outside. The sea is around and around
The small me in my sleep. Amniotic hypnosis pulls me
To the depths. I am born of the sea, I am shaped like these
waves.
In the daylight I walk to the corner and edge, to the tooth
And the elbow, to pyrite and glass. Every step becomes firm
On the concrete — the echoes staccato, the distance discrete.
I know where I am headed. I see all directions for miles.
When the sunlight intrudes on the sea, it illumines the beasts.
When the sea washes over the land, I am knocked from my feet.
I’m at home where I am, I’m in danger always, I can breathe
Through my skin. And the shoreline traversed changes nothing
at all.
by J-T Kelly
from the Eco Theo Review
When my parents first told me I was going to Hindu camp, I was not happy. And, to be honest, I was more than a little scared. My parents claimed they knew what was best for me, vom. Most of my summer vacations were spent back in India with family, so it was almost a treat to be able to stay home for once. I’d miss swimming at Park N Pool, riding bikes to Dairy Queen and picnicking at Idlewild Park. Why would I want my perfect summer in the ‘burbs to be interrupted by some stupid camp where I wouldn’t know anyone? Would there be bears? And even more terrifying, would there be cute boys?
Steven Preister’s house in Washington, D.C. is a piece of American history, a gorgeous 110-year-old colonial with wooden columns and a front porch, perfect for relaxing in the summer. But Preister, who has owned it for almost four decades, is deeply concerned about the environment, so in 2014 he added something very modern: solar panels. First, he mounted panels on the back of the house, and they worked nicely. Then he decided to add more on the front, facing the street, and applied to the city for a permit.
Marina Herlop
His huge Technicolor paintings, draped without frames, crossed over into sculpture — tabernacles to fearlessness and radicality. Hung from the ceilings or tacked to the walls, they looked like canvas mountain ranges or gigantic tents and huts, marching cities on the plain.
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Despite thousands of years of research and an unending fascination with marine creatures, humans have explored only 
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