About
...site for innovative scholarship by taking advantage of the Internet's capabilities to deliver audio, video, images, text, and data to facilitate new ways of organizing and presenting research. Southern Spaces...
Vestibule
...of skin, but on the grace of the heart beneath. It was the only homily we knew, and our souls were beatified. And if you say sentiment and cliché, then...
Prayer of the Backhanded
...think to say, excuse me. Published in Please (Kalamazoo, Michigan: New Issues Poetry & Prose, Western Michigan University, 2009). Published: 4 March 2010 © 2010 Jericho Brown and Southern Spaces...
Aftermath
...hawk has taken back the air above new grass, and the doe again can hide her young. I can tell you now I crossed that field, weeks before the first...
Three AM and the Stars Were Out
When the phone rings way too late for good news, just another farmer wanting me to lose half a night's sleep and drive some backcountry wash-out for miles, fix what...
California Creek, North Carolina
NCDOT boundary marker, California Creek, NC, 1996. Photo courtesy of Rob Amberg. Drill rig, California Creek, NC, 1997. Photo courtesy of Rob Amberg. NCDOT geologist Jody Kuhne identifying springs in...
Little Creek, North Carolina
...Creek, NC, 1996. Photo courtesy of Rob Amberg. In the woods at Little Creek, Little Creek, NC, 1997. Photo courtesy of Rob Amberg. Barn slated for removal, Little Creek, NC,...
A Video Excerpt from The Well-Placed Weed: The Bountiful Life of Ryan Gainey
Video and Essay https://player.vimeo.com/video/269927353?byline=0&portrait=0 Ryan Gainey with cut flowers, Decatur, Georgia, ca. 1993. Photograph by David Schilling. Ryan Gainey (1944–2016) grew up in the Sandhills of South Carolina in the...
Atlanta’s Tumultuous Fifties Fifty Years Later
Video Part 2: Dr. Crimmins discusses the Lane Brothers photograph collection, highlighting Atlanta's physical and cultural landscapes Part 3: Dr. Holmes examines how voter registration and Atlanta politics play into...
Elegy for the Native Guards
Poem Elegy for the Native Guards Now that the salt of their blood Stiffens the saltier oblivion of the sea . . . —Allen Tate We leave Gulfport at noon;...