CALL FOR ART AND WRITING ON Spring IN MICHIGAN open now

The Spring 2024 issue (#4) will focus on themes and experiences of spring outdoors and in natural environments across the state. We are accepting submissions of writing and art of all formats that relates to these ideas. Broad interpretations of the theme are encouraged; if this call brings a piece of work to mind for you, send it in! Potential formats include but are not limited to: poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, a statement on a seasonal recipe, photography, visual art and sculpture of any form, and music (for digital publication only). View full details here.

This call is open until May 18th. Send all work to submissions@peninsulaartsmag.com. Please include your name, a title for your work, a short bio, and best contact information. Questions? Drop a line at talk@peninsulaartsmag.com.

Issue NO. 2 on Fall in Michigan is here.

CALL FOR ART AND WRITING ON Spring IN MICHIGAN open now

The Spring 2024 issue (#4) will focus on themes and experiences of spring outdoors and in natural environments across the state. We are accepting submissions of writing and art of all formats that relates to these ideas. Broad interpretations of the theme are encouraged; if this call brings a piece of work to mind for you, send it in! Potential formats include but are not limited to: poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, a statement on a seasonal recipe, photography, visual art and sculpture of any form, and music (for digital publication only). View full details here.

This call is open until May 18th. Send all work to submissions@peninsulaartsmag.com. Please include your name, a title for your work, a short bio, and best contact information. Questions? Drop a line at talk@peninsulaartsmag.com.

From Our Latest Issue:

Seiche / Monica Rico

“When the rain came, I was relieved not to yank another sail on.” Monica Rico writes on a seiche at harbor.

Huff and Puff

“So the point is not to get caught up in perfection, the point is to produce something….” Kathryn Almy writes on leaves.

September / BEE LB

“A strip of film clicking into place. the dial winding, lining the film for the next shot–” BEE LB writes on the change of seasons.

There Was a Bluff / Ron Riekki

“The wind would only whisper, the woods making soft sounds behind us, everything so quiet, as if the trees knew they were going to be books one day, and this was a library…” Ron Riekki writes on “holy silence.”

Into the Hemlock Forest / Keith Taylor

“We walk down the trail at the edge of Carp Creek, almost to its mouth, then wade across.” Keith Taylor spends time in the creek and forest in “Into the Hemlock Forest.”

Power Island Killed Me / Christopher Wilson

“As I walked up, I noticed a massive fire pit smoldering by the trailhead.” In “Power Island Killed Me,” Christopher Wilson’s narrator has a new adventure in a familiar place.

Spirits in the Backyard / Keith Taylor

“After the chopping and hauling away were over, the long-lived dryads must have had no place to roost.” Keith Taylor reflects on his backyard in “Spirits in the Backyard.”

Black Crown / Monica Rico

“& of course there are flowers without scent, the ostentatious hydrangeas cover the house lest it not look like the others…” Monica Rico writes on flowers, herons, and walking women in “Black Crown.”

Beach, Lake Michigan / Annaka Saari

“Sitting in the sand I remember the blue-gray strokes of a painting my grandmother created years ago.” Annaka Saari reflects on time spent at Lake Michigan.

Sound and Water / Tyler Duffrin

“The cicadas, the birdsong, it’s like a symphony, it’s outrageous.” Tyler Duffrin reflects on our continuous search.

Canadian Fires / Keith Taylor

“The moon is red tonight and there’s a tang of pine smoke in the air.” Keith Taylor reflects on the 2023 haze.

Holy Water / Mitchell Carter

“A consequence of the lasting geometry of sailboats, these pictures capture my experience on our holy waters.” Mitchell Carter shares a photo series.

To Skip a Stone / Monica Rico

“I swear it was hours, years, we floated, and I touched you like a fish in stillness.” Monica Rico writes about Lake Michigan.

Seiche / Monica Rico

“When the rain came, I was relieved not to yank another sail on.” Monica Rico writes…

Huff and Puff

“So the point is not to get caught up in perfection, the point is to…

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