Considering the emergence of the blog and poster campaign, What Would Lynne Tillman Do?, 12th Street thought it apropos to pose just that- in terms of writing. Here is what the preeminent author and New School […]

Considering the emergence of the blog and poster campaign, What Would Lynne Tillman Do?, 12th Street thought it apropos to pose just that- in terms of writing. Here is what the preeminent author and New School […]
The Intrepid All he cares about are the jets Buh-buh-buh-buh Pow! Pow! Man Down! Because he is a boy He knows nothing Of the dilemma I imagine a way To explain History through […]
As part of our profile series on the Riggio: Writing and Democracy community, 12th Street asked John Reed, New School faculty member, “Who’s your audience?” His response was both frank in content and compelling in form. […]
TINA CHANG was raised in New York City. Brooklyn Poet Laureate, she is the author of the poetry collections Half-Lit Houses (2004) and Of Gods & Strangers (2011). She is co-editor of the anthology Language for a New Century: […]
Amy looked up from her friend’s shoulder, whipping snot and tears from her face—laughing. “See what I mean, friends, and critics, what more could I want.”
With President Barack Obama getting a second lease in The White House, it was a historical week for the whole nation. But with over sixty houses burning in Breezy Point and the subways flooded, it […]
“Disco’s death was always a hoax; the sort of club-oriented dance music shaped by the New York scene now dominates pop around the world, and hip-hop’s influence goes without saying.”
Stephanie Leone is a third-year BA/FA student studying Fiction Writing at Lang and Communication Design at Parsons. If she had her way, Stephanie would write and illustrate children’s books and hyper-realistic novels. Her style is hard to define because she is still searching for it, but she hopes it looks loose, illustrative, and fantastical all at once.”
The work itself, once I begin, tends to become obsession with the language world of my characters. When I figure out how they use language, I discover what my book is about.
[singlepic id=54 w=700 h=1200 float=center] Maximilian Mueller is from the Washington D.C area and now lives in New York’s East Village. A second year Product Design candidate at Parsons, he has been developing his painting […]
The geography of a place is grounded, however fleetingly by physical structures, and waiting for a kinetic kick-start by the people in it to open it up into becoming a space.
When there’s a knock on the door it’s hard not to answer it. Leaving a possibility open always gnaws at the back of my consciousness…
Picasso never had a “black and white” period. These paintings only represent the two poles scattered throughout the various movements of his art. His return and re-return to black and white exemplifies a principle Picasso held dear.
What separated him from any other writer I had ever read is his undeniable honesty, his childlike perspective on the world; and how we, as citizens of a chaotic country, develop mental callouses that prevent us from admitting our flaws and insecurities.
The industry is against me; they’re only about sales and regurgitating the same garbage! It’s not recycling if it’s still trash!
It helps to know what is true and the truth is a slippery fish. What is truth exactly and how do we know it when we see it? Is there a core area somewhere in the center of an idea in which the truth resides? Or is it spread thin like a pancake, a layer wrapped around detritus and filling, the clutter of living? Can anyone have it?
When my mom complained he’d just take his pack of Marlboro Reds into the garage. But this didn’t keep us away. My dad barely spent any time home and when he did we were determined to follow him everywhere. Besides, he was usually doing something interesting that we didn’t want to miss like scaling a fish or gutting a freshly caught squid.
“Better appreciate it while you can!” said the old man while he added salt to his popcorn.
The friendly stranger was referring to the massive 32 oz. cup I was filling to the brim with Coca-Cola. My date and I were about to watch a three-hour long epic movie and it was decided that an epic amount of snacks were needed to go along with it. We had bought the large soda/large popcorn combo to share.
“Uhg, I know it,” I said. I shook my head disapprovingly, emphasizing my exasperation at the situation. The old man put down the extra sodium with a slight shake in his hands and flashed me a big yellow toothy grin.
Brownface was a term altogether unfamiliar to me. I grappled for comprehension. The closest term I had available to use as a reference was Blackface. But that couldn’t be true, right? Yes, Governor Mitt Romney was appearing on a staple Latin-American television network, Univison. And yes, at first glance, the hue of his face appeared to be darker. But did Governor Romney really use make up to appear relatable to a Latino audience?
The subway stop at 181st Street was an odd place to see a ladybug. She boarded the train and flew directly to perch on the edge of my upended book. I stayed very still, staring at the shiny red and black of her wings, while she rested there. After a few minutes I gently moved the book into a flat position on my lap, and she obliged me by crawling over the lip and onto the surface. I put my hand in front of her for protection against any jostling that might shake her.
Then in intermittent peeks, needled through the brick enclave saturated, as a stop-motion cartoon i saw him, my Uncle puffy like wild, overgrown mushrooms bruised magenta bloc sleepless caverns, now filled lined the bridge of […]