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Poetry by PJ Carmichael

Poetry by PJ Carmichael

Poetry by PJ Carmichael   Best-Selling Authors Who’s been chasing the New York Times’ best-seller list again? I’ve been chasing my own tail for the past few years, entertained the idea of freak show success, but they’re not hiring. Besides, there’s too many willing and eager to exploit faulty faculties. A get-rich- quick scheme, the...
Poetry by PJ Carmichael

Poetry by PJ Carmichael

Poems by PJ Carmichael ( Instagram ) PJ Carmichael is a poet, writer, artist, adventurer, and spiritualist from Wakefield, Massachusetts. His work focuses on his interaction with and the contrast between the natural world and the urban environment. He currently runs Mass Love Distro, a multimedia production and distribution endeavor.     Sick She mumbles loudly...
Artists On Our Radar: Rina Namiki

Artists On Our Radar: Rina Namiki

Artist: Rina Namiki ( Instagram )   Based in Tokyo, Japan and Berlin, Germany, artist Rina Namiki studied Indian Philosophy and Arts at Toyo University and has recently worked at Nylon Magazine (Japan). Namiki finds inspiration delving into her emotions as well as the female physical form. A storyteller by nature, Namiki’s illustrations take you...
Staring Quietly at the Backwash

Staring Quietly at the Backwash

Staring Quietly at the Backwash Artist: Ina Lounguine ( Instagram )     Within the past few years Europe has seen mass human migrations, due to chaos and civil wars all across northern Africa and the Middle-East – Syria especially. Staring Quietly At The Backwash is a sensorial take on analyzing the crisis currently occurring...
The Portrait Artist

The Portrait Artist

The Portrait Artist     It had been an especially long, dark winter until that day in late February when the sun shined especially bright, melting the snow so rapidly that one’s socks absorbed the musty vapors of heat that rose from the ground. The streets, each one representing a tendril of Manhattan’s rumpled brow,...
Jessie Goes Nuts

Jessie Goes Nuts

Jessie Goes Nuts by Fishspit     Every time I hear a Cat Stevens song I think of that year I laid in Jessie’s bed guzzling vodka and spinning her records. I drank around the clock then. Why Cat Stevens? I don’t know. Jessie had lots of records. I wasn’t a Cat Stevens fan ....
Shopping Local This Holiday Season

Shopping Local This Holiday Season

With Christmas and New Years right around the corner, the staff at ANON Magazine wanted to highlight our top choices for keeping it local this holiday season. Helping our Austin, TX economy and shops to thrive helps keep our community alive, paves the way for more jobs in the city, reduces environmental waste and keeps...
Artists on Our Radar: Shanna Teresinski

Artists on Our Radar: Shanna Teresinski

Artist: Shanna Teresinski ( Instagram )    Shanna Teresinski was born in Austin, TX and immersed herself in her own creative endeavors and art rather than training at school. Her inspiration comes from those closest to her and capturing the subconscious into a tangible vision. To Teresinski, sometimes pictures and art are the means to...
Never Like Tuesdays // Femme

Never Like Tuesdays // Femme

Artist: Juliette Hayt ( Instagram ) Juliette Hayt is a painter, illustrator and writer based in New York City. Her art is extremely diaristic and draws inspiration from her feelings of anxiety, love, sadness, longing and abandonment. Hayt’s series for “Never Like Tuesdays” explores mental and emotional states through the use of the color yellow....
DEATH OF A PLAYWRITE Chapter One: Curtains Up

DEATH OF A PLAYWRITE Chapter One: Curtains Up

  DEATH OF A PLAYWRIGHT Chapter One: Curtains Up. by Lee A. Whitelock   A thousand plundered blank pages before me; in awe of me. And I saw the taming of the quill, to the shrill of plot unfolding. I plundered, sure. I sacked a bounty of literary greats, libraries at my feet, dictionaries knee...
Poetry by Hunter Lewinski

Poetry by Hunter Lewinski

Scene from a Play in which I Light Myself on Fire Curtain call. The Swan lies down on a bed of perfumed rose petals to die. In a sky like a mouth full of bloodied teeth, she cranes her neck to witness as her babies are dashed against the stones. What is my womb than...
Son, the Sun Don't Set in the South

Son, the Sun Don’t Set in the South

Son, the Sun Don’t Set in the South Words by Fishspit   I’m not very sharp . . . simple things ain’t so simple to me. I’d poured over the book “Alcoholic’s Anonymous” a number of times . . . drunk and sober. Finally, a time came when I was thoroughly whooped. I found me...

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