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Vivace: 2
Vivace: 2
Vivace: 2
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Vivace: 2

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ViVACE 2 is a selected collection of poetry, prose, travel commentaries, art and photography edited by Christine Neilson. A Special Tribute to George Hitchcock, poet, teacher, activist, painter, actor, playwright, publisher of kayak literary journal is included in this issue.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateNov 18, 2010
ISBN9781452087597
Vivace: 2
Author

Christine Neilson

Christine Neilson is a photojournalist/educator whose work has appeared in national publications for over three decades. She holds a BA with Honors in English Literature/Creative Writing from the University of California at Santa Cruz and a MA from McGregor College, Antioch University, Yellow Springs, Ohio. She resides on California's Central Coast.

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    Book preview

    Vivace - Christine Neilson

    V i V A C E 2

    Art, Photography and Writings

    Selected and Edited

    by Christine Neilson

    missing image file

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1-800-839-8640

    © 2010 Christine Neilson. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    First published by AuthorHouse 11/12/2010

    ISBN: 978-1-4520-8758-0 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4520-8759-7 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2010916647

    Printed in the United States of America

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    This book is printed on acid-free paper.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    For Marjorie Simon

    FOREWORD

    First a disclaimer: I am not a regular writer of Forewords. Truth be told, this is my very first. I was flattered and proud when ViVACE’s founder and managing editor, Christine Neilson, asked me to write this one for the literary journal’s second issue. I was humbled, too, when she gently chided me in an email for misspelling my assignment as a forward. That sent me, straightaway, to Google and thence to the Online Free Dictionary. There I learned that the noun foreword is a literal translation of the German Vorwort a preface or an introductory note, as for a book, especially by a person other than the author. Fine, except: ViVACE is a literary journal and, truth be told, I am one of its authors.

    Perhaps author is a trifle strong; I am listed as a contributor, one of a score of prose writer, poets, photographers, cartoonists and artists of other stripes whose work appears in this issue. I am humbled to be among that number, for most of them have been widely and often published and some have international reputations. The little blurb after my name says that I am working on a memoir, Lost in the Greatest Generation. Editor Neilson is far too kind. I have written a baker’s dozen pieces like My Grandfather, the Jewfisherman that have enjoyed indifferent success.

    One, sold as a short story, won a sister-kissing honorable mention in a contest, but no reward. A second, sold as memoir, was published in the defunct Sunday magazine of the Los Angeles Times. Readers used to be able to read that one on the web, but it has disappeared. A third, a true story embellished beyond recognition, was it the slush pile at Golf Journal when the editor wrote that the magazine was, unfortunately, folding. And so goes life in the literary game…

    Nowadays, I play a lot of computer Solitaire and write lesser, but perhaps widely read articles. One of these, I Found a Perfect Sweater, appears with four stars in an advertisement for a bargain cotton-cashmere cardigan in the online catalog of Maine’s redoubtable L.L.Bean. This piece is anonymous, but I am self-described therein as an elderly gentleman who takes occasional walks and golf from a cart. Another piece of recent vintage does carry my byline. It is an Amazon reader’s review of Yellow Dirt: An American Story of a Poisoned Land and a People Betrayed. The author, investigative journalist Judy Pasternak, is a friend from my days as a writing coach. But enough about me; you’re here to read ViVACE.

    If you’re like me, you’ll begin at the first page and read and relish every word, linger long over the photographs and illustrations, and be refreshed by the insights and imagination of the fascinating friends that have gathered in Christine Neilson’s solon.

    Take my word for it: You’re always welcome at ViVACE.

    -Jim Hayes

    Contents

    DEDICATION

    FOREWORD

    EDITOR’S NOTE

    IN MEMORIAM

    QUIRKY VIGNETTES & PHOTOS

    I. ASCENSION

    Lying Now in the New Grass

    The Basket

    Records

    My father

    For Mothers with Children at the Mall

    Cradled by ignorance

    The FoxPath

    Her Story

    Chiswick Evening

    horses in new york city.

    When the psychic dust settles

    I had a Dream Last Night

    Big Up to Dubstep

    II. SNIPPETS

    It’s Never Too Late

    My Grandpa, The Jewfisherman

    Leftovers

    My Brother

    One Condition

    Doctors can be Pills

    The Sick Room

    Goodbye!

    III. DESIGNATED ROUTE

    AFRICA

    CHINA Then and Now: Beijing

    Shanghai

    STATESIDE

    Dreamscapes

    CONTRIBUTORS

    SUBMISSION DIRECTIVES

    EDITOR’S NOTE

    I am a self-proclaimed villager. Daily I mingle and consort with strangers in coffee houses, thrift shops, store aisles, on curb sides, sandy beaches and an occasional writers group gathering. The outcome of these trivial moments are serendipitous meetings with accomplished, novice and venerable artists, writers and poets. Thus, ViVACE’s content accumulates and culminates into an eceletic selection of poetry, personal narratives, short stories, travel commentaries that are juxapositioned with art and photography.

    But as this edition’s deadline drew to a close, a monumental event occurred. Poet/artist/actor/playwright and publisher George Hitchcock, passed away at the age of 96. Hitchcock was a friend of three decades and my undergraduate academic advisor at the University of California at Santa Cruz. As news spread of his passing, incoming emails bloomed with shared photographs and memories from former students, colleagues and friends. Thus, a ViVACE tribute came to fruition with the enthusiastic support of Marjorie Simon, George’s partner for over 30 years. This memoriam reflects the witty, irreverant character we all admired, so I put on my beret, tilted it to the side, and started villaging over cyberspace and landlines requesting quirky vignettes. This venture took me down a stream of discovery about how George Hitchcock snared fledgling writers into his kayak net. It was Hitchcock’s catch and release technique that set adrift into villages throughout the literary world infamous writers such as Margaret Atwood, Ray Carver, Philp Levine, W. S. Merwin and many more.

    This special edition of ViVACE was made possible through the generosity of our sponsors: Rand Careaga, George Fuller, Dale and Deanna Haack, Charles Haas, Sally Lemee, Glenna Luschei, Robert McDowell, Candy Moffet, Hannelore Royston, Ray Simpson, Liz Hughes Wiley and our subscribers.

    IN MEMORIAM

    jpg 1 Geo w press.jpg

    George Hitchcock, shown in 1973 in his Santa Cruz print shop, started kayak in 1964. Hitchcock was a former actor who performed poetry with theatrical gusto and, unlike many poets, was most willing to share the spotlight.

    -Photo by Jim Hair

    jpg 2 Geo & friends.jpg

    George Hitchcock (seated far right) taught creative writing at the University of California at Santa Cruz from 1970 to 1989. He created the Hitchcock Poetry Fund at UCSC’s Porter College.

    -Photographer unknown

    QUIRKY VIGNETTES & PHOTOS

    jpeg 3 Geo & Judy.jpg

    Judy Risity and George Hitchcock

    Laura Beausoleil

    In 1969, Beau Beausoleil and I came to San Francisco to be where poetry was happening. We brought with us $100, two suitcases, sturdy shoes to walk the city’s hills, and a burning itch to read, hear, and write poetry. We also carried a riffled copy of kayak. Beau had discovered surrealism in its pages and liked it. I would soon like it too, discovering for the first time strange and wonderful ways to use language.

    We found an apartment to house our suitcases and soon set out like pilgrims to visit George Hitchcock, kayak’s editor. Beau wanted to be published in kayak in the worst way. With our new shoes, but no map, we walked twenty-eight blocks from Haight Street up Laguna Street, hill and hill, until we found the house.

    This first

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