• Sarah West: Endurance

    The meteors shower the night sky. Dense green canopies begin to yellow, and in the mountains rain replenishes white cascades. Afternoon storms dampen thoughts toward a leisure picnic. Instead a glass of rosé on a verandah overlooking a riverbank serves as alternative. The hills breathe a sigh, and perspire as clouds part revealing blues, still

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  • Sarah West: Emblematic Echoes of Appalachia

    Sarah West: Emblematic Echoes of Appalachia

    Returning to the places where one’s soul rests, there I find renewal, enrichment and a multitude of things awaiting pen. Miles from my Alabama home, I seek retreat among the hills and valleys of Appalachia. A magnetic pull draws upon my senses. There I return to the well which never runs dry. It always yields

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  • Sarah West: Places and Time

    Sarah West: Places and Time

    Rain moves lazily across the piedmont making its way nearer the Black Belt this morning. The rumble of the early train is transmuted by remembrance. I hear the clunking of subway cars as they pass by my window. I draw back the white curtain, and I’m in Queens. I turn the key and step into

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  • Sarah West: Going the extra mile . . .continued

    Sarah West: Going the extra mile . . .continued

    It isn’t located on a picturesque town square, nor along a quintessential old town promenade. This abstract take on locating the ideal has had an enduring appeal for me. For those who live in nearby Tennessee, a drive to Florence may seem convenient. But for me on a particular occasion it was quite the contrast.

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  • Sarah West: Honoring Local History

    Sarah West: Honoring Local History

    Print of Vesper to be at local MEND auction After the storm, the winds quieted and the light turned to sunset hues of melon and lavender. The fresh scent of twisted pine, snapped, torn and bent, permeated the air. Pink insulation spun round like cotton candy clinging to fence posts and barbed wire, and shredded

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  • Historic Jones Store Museum Opening

    Historic Jones Store Museum Opening

    By Sarah West The front doors creak. The clattering of footsteps upon century old floor boards echo the tap, tap, tapping, the coming and going of people from past we wish we could have known. White wash walls, exterior buttercream, red tin roof, and a painted sign pronounces the establishment’s namesake. Red and white simplicity. 

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