Failed Memory Exercise
...flowerbeds For the pumps and grease rack of the new Shell; But begin again, for the dark green Lincoln rises To its lube and crests where Zetty's kitchen was: The...
Red J. Store on Carroll Street, ca. 1910–1920
This week's featured image was inspired by my own search for information about my newly adopted neighborhood of Cabbagetown, a former milltown on Atlanta's east side. With its perilous, narrow...
Art, Diaspora, and Identity: The John Biggers Papers
...of Africa, in the development of people, in that which is true and good." Biggers believed Ampofo embodied "the New Africa," linking the continent's past with its future through his...
"Little Switzerland"
"LITTLE SWITZERLAND, A Private Park that is Visited by a Large Number of People" "In considering the many improvements that are going on in various parts of the city, Little...
Aunt Narcissa's Quilt [ca 1880]
...number of short pieces are joined to augment the width, and one of these has a small irregular patch, suggesting mending of some previous damage. The backing was still too...
Plantation Romances and Slave Narratives: Symbiotic Genres
...also instructive for an 1850s southern audience. Simms might have been thinking about the 1850s South as coming to grips with itself as a newly constituted revolutionary force, yet he...
Consolation
If we could take them back, swinging by the Little Kitchen's shadow on Jefferson Street and waving them in as they were, Livingston, Alexander, Britt, and York, piling together on...
Making History
...pull out spoon after spoon after spoon. Published in I Was the Jukebox (New York: W.W. Norton, 2010). Published: 22 September 2011 © 2011 Sandra Beasley and Southern Spaces...
The Dirt Eaters
Southern Tradition of Eating Dirt Shows Signs of Waning —headline, The New York Times, 2/14/84 tra dition wanes I read from North ern South: D.C. Never ate dirt but I...
Self-Portrait at a Bend in the Road
...stand where the newsmen stood, over that place where the Riders waited in a circle of grace and disbelief, fragile as the surface of a ladle that hears each word....