Views and Mechanics Publisher's Note Editor's Note Review of African Psycho Review of The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid Film Review of "Judith Butler: Philosophical Encounters of the Third Kind" Writing Contest Results Creative Nonfiction Back Pain...Who Cares? By Michael D. Burg Knit Two Together By Jo L. Gerrard Skin Odyssey By Holly Leigh Jacobson Leaves in the Wind By Molly Molloy Hydroglyphics By Phaedra Greenwood Poetry Indiana Poem By Michael Lee Johnson Inspire Me, Ms. Muse By Tony Zurlo A Poem Forgot By Gabrielle Rabinowitz Yours By Sheila McLaughlin Sikorski Confetti By Alan Girling Correction: Drive Me Home Again By Anne Cammon Fiction Scaffold By Joseph Bathanti For the Taking By Anne Leigh Parrish The Artistic Impulse By Johanna Lipford Justifiable Brew Aside By Barbara Anton Stopping at the DQ By Susan White Cover Art Bright Red By Dee Rimbaud About the Contributors © 2007, River Walk Journal and respective authors and artists. All rights reserved. Do not use or reproduce without permission. River Walk Journal, Inc. Board of Directors Chairman - Elizabeth Ross Vice Chairman - Joseph Koch Secretary/Treasurer - Geri Stock-Ross Editorial Director - Patti Kurtz, DA Literacy Director - Vacant Policy Director - PA State Rep. Jess Stairs Advisory Board Chairman - Patti Kurtz, DA Asst. Chairman - Dan Lachenman, PhD Samuel Hazo Christopher Leland Edwin Yoder Joseph Bathanti Journal Staff Publisher - Elizabeth Ross Editor-In-Chief - Joseph Koch Senior Editor - Patti Kurtz Senior Editor - Neeldhara Misra Copyeditor - Kathy Skaggs Blog Contributing Editor - Maggie Koster Education Blog Contributing Editor - Jordan Wirfs-Brock Publicity Director (PA) - Geri Stock-Ross For information about submissions, visit http://www.riverwalkjournal.org/subs.html. Questions about promotions, subscribers' services, and advertising should be sent to publisher@riverwalkjournal.org. River Walk Journal, Inc. is a non-profit corporation run entirely by volunteers. For information about volunteer opportunities and internships, visit VolunteerMatch. |
Notes from a Journal II I almost feel guilty for turning on the air conditioning in the house so early this year, but as I’m sitting here, the little blue WeatherChannel block on my taskbar is saying 80 degrees Fahrenheit already. It’s barely past noon, and when I stepped out earlier to take the garbage to the curb, the air outside was heavy and cloying. By late afternoon, I’ll be hoping for the thunderstorms that often break out on humid Pennsylvania summer days. It’s always an itchy time of year for me, not only because of the heat and humidity. In retrospect, I can’t help thinking that I’m at least a little like the animals scurrying about trying to find mates. The more memorable trysts I’ve had were invariably in the hot spring and summer months, and I’m noticing the ache that instigated them in years past. Unfortunately it is something that I cannot seem to discuss with James, even a little. There is a wall between us, albeit crumbling, but still too solid to scale or demolish. “I had a feeling that Pandora’s box contained the mysteries of woman’s sensuality, so different from man’s and for which man’s language was inadequate. The language of sex had yet to be invented. The language of the senses was yet to be explored. D. H. Lawrence began to give instinct a language, he tried to escape the clinical, the scientific, which only captures what the body feels…” Anais Nin knew in February of 1941 what I have been trying to put to words for years. Regardless of how attentive to a woman’s needs a man has been, there is forever this barrier. Wordless action is meaningless to me in the context of intimacy. A man who cannot vocalize his feelings is easily replaced with plastic or latex with battery operated motors hidden within. The inability to speak freely on sex, desire, emotions is more than just a hindrance to pleasure for me – it negates it. I was raised to have guilt and shame about sex, as many good little Catholic girls were. Sex was the last straw that broke my faith permanently, because I could not justify the existence of a god that would demand chastity and create disease as a punishment while simultaneously encouraging the proliferation of the race of man. I also could not bear the concept of women being considered dirty or sinful simply for having desires, while the desires of men were tolerated or flat out encouraged. “ ‘Dear Collector: We hate you. Sex loses all its power and magic when it becomes explicit, mechanical, overdone, when it becomes a mechanistic obsession. It becomes a bore. You have taught us more than anyone I know how wrong it is not to mix it with emotion, hunger, desire, lust, whims, caprices, personal ties, deeper relationships that change its color, flavor, rhythms, intensities…’” Nin complained to the old man who was paying $1 a page for erotica from she and several of her contemporaries in December 1941. Although explicit formulaic erotica – what should only be called pornography – can be titillating, it only serves to start a small flame that must be fed with more substantial fuel. Otherwise, it is only as satisfying as the experience of the sperm donor creating his sample in a cubicle with the aid of a few nude photos. I am still tired of men who think that as long as a woman has an orgasm, she is satisfied with her sexual experience. I probably am not dissimilar from other women when I close my eyes and allow my mind to wander while in bed, letting fantasies serve as the true cause of pleasure. If a woman is lucky, the man she is with is privy to those secret images, and actually tries to carry them out. Elizabeth Ross |