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James C. Schaap / Siouxland Blogspot

One of the cement plates standing in the park holds an image of the house she lived in here in Earlville, a little white house now long gone. What's here is a little commemorative park someone keeps up. Doesn't require much, I suppose. 

An old-fashioned merry-go-round stands just beyond the picnic tables, the kind of machine that scared me long ago, when some big kid would push and push until we'd sail around so fast I started to believe if I didn't fly off, my stomach would. 

Susan and Mark Leonard

For most of us, the holidays are intertwined with the idea of “home.” That feeling you get when you open your own front door at the end of a long day to warmth and light, being greeted with a smile, a kiss, maybe a hot drink, music playing? 

 

As I prepare for a move to the west coast, leaving my current familiar home to make a new one, I ponder what it is that makes us feel at home? Is it people, place, belongings? 

 

Cultural Continuum 10-06-17

Oct 6, 2017

Cultural Continuum 9-29-17

Sep 29, 2017

Singer-songwriter Mike Langley recently released Milky Way Home, an album of new and old songs. He joined SPM's Mark Munger to talk about his inspirations and philosophies, and while he was here, we got him to play a song. 

    

Awful Purdies

The Awful Purdies, a quintet of multi-instrumentalists based in Iowa City, will perform in Orange City this Wednesday. Their most recent work, All Recipes are Home, included music and theater. The inspiration for the project came from conversations, in person and in writing, the band members had with Iowans who work the land.

Ode: Ryan Allen "Living on the Edge"

May 25, 2016

LIVING ON THE EDGE

   I’ve lived in many places in my life.   I’ve wandered, I’ve been lost. I’ve searched for things and people I didn’t even know I was looking for.

   I spy through a camera. The world is mad. I try but can’t find any sense. I turn the lens inward and I get even more confused. Where am I supposed to go? How am I supposed to be? I can’t seem to find my place. I’m in-between worlds: between clarity and madness, between being a father and being a son, between a prairie of wild grass and a forest of planted trees.