June 1997    

 Table of Contents 

Art Scene: On The Road with Justin Love by Todd Paul
If you haven't seen Justin Love's recent work--and for this prolific painter, that means within the past few weeks--check out Transportation at New World Home Cooking.

Musica: Hot Licks in Rosendale by Todd Paul
What's playing at the Rosendale Cafe, a downright nice little spot that has become a favorite venue for folk, jazz and blues musicians and their admirers.

Festivities: Dancing on Belleayre by Todd Paul
In order to bolster business and put their facilities to good use, many ski centers have taken to hosting summer festivals, and Belleayre is no exception. One of the premiere examples is the Catskill Mountain Festival, hosted by artistic directors Jay Ungar and Molly Mason.

Searching for Commandant Marcos By Lorna Tychostup
People are fighting for survival in a country known for Margaritas and hot beaches…"Everyone is dreaming in this country. Now it is time to wake up…"

Jung in Rhinebeck: Archetypes Anyone? by Cheyl A. Rice
There is something more to us as human beings than just selfishness; something that transcends the base elements of man.

Special Duty: Digging the Bathroom Scene by Bruce Schneider
There is a whole subculture involved in potty-training, kind of a parent's underground. … Was I observed, naked and screaming, running past the living room window?

Religion is for old ladies who've got nothing to do. When you're dead you're dead, and they put you under the dirt.

On Roadkill: The Fat and the Skinny by Brian Mahoney
What's the biggest animal you've ever hit with your car?A squirrel-flattened, asphalt by osmosis except for its bushy tail waving a flag of surrender? A skunk-its innards exploding on impact, futilely releasing its natural defenses? A dog perhaps-the neighbor's yippy Pomeranian that loved to chase cars? Or maybe you hit a deer-whose mysterious wreckage you watched stiffen on the roadside for weeks to come?

On Father Figures: Glimpses by Margaret Hartford
We are all messiahs - jump down from your crosses and dance…. We sit flaccid, in thrones that crumble about us, and we complain that no one is paying attention anymore.

The Navigator: Love is Freedom Astrology for June, 1997 by Eric Francis
Limiting relationships are an insurance policy. They insure you against the truth.

Frankly Speaking: On Possibilities of Anger by Frank Crocitto

When we look at ourselves, our anger often appears justified, useful, even necessary. If we are to be rid of anger, we have to find something to replace it with.

Crowded Theatre: Drawing The Line by Todd Paul
There was no real contact, just a sibilant phsht as the nylon of my winter jacket kissed the nylon of his winter jacket. It was then he offered to break my nose.

Poetica: Poetry as Healing Art By Brian and Lee Ann
What's the most fun thing to do in the Summer, besides submit poetry to Chronogram? Why, it's reading your work at the Rosendale Street Festival.

To be a father is more than the physical act of procreation, more than the mere dumping of seed. A seed must be watered and tended by a nurturing hand. Sex only releases the seed. Fathering begins at this point, and never ceases.

Some of us never knew our biological fathers, men who fled with the speed of their seed's release. But others stepped in. Surrogate fathers, men and women, who were our gods, who showed us "that god is never angry with who we truly are, but cares deeply for us, for our true selves," as M. Hartford explains in her examination of father figures this month, God the Father. Bruce Schneider explores the joys of potty training his 3 year old son, Lorna Tychostup searches for the father of the Zapatista revolution, and B. Mahoney takes on environmental stewardship, the fathering of our own planet.

For only by being our own fathers can we achieve fullness and richness in our lives. Fathering ourselves, we learn the process and the power of creating a home for our godlike selves. We must have the courage to become fathers, and face the task of fostering gods in others, and in ourselves.