(noun) The gradual development of something, especially from a simple to a more complex form. 

There is nothing more bonding than witnessing process. In our upcoming event, ev•o•lu•tion, our featured artists open themselves up at their most vulnerable stages: the moments of mistakes, moments of erasure and trying again, creating a palpable atmosphere of trust and connection.  

ev•o•lu•tion is an immersive gallery experience we host with The Creators Collective in which three poets collaborate with visual artists to create new work inspired by one another’s art and artistic process. Each poet shares an unfinished poem--something they still consider a draft. We then share the poems with photographers who take photos based on the poetry. This collaboration culminates in a gallery event where we display the poems and photographs and invite three artists to create in real time based on the work being shown. 

The poets will then return to their original poems and revise their work drawing inspiration from the newly created art. The event ends full circle by returning to the original inspiration and highlights the power of the process and artistic creation.

 ev•o•lu•tion celebrates not just art, but the artistic process, and provides an opportunity to witness creation. It is a behind the scenes look at how art is inspired by many influences and it reminds all of us the role we play in creating art. We hope that after witnessing this event you will walk away with a new energy and inspiration to create your own art.


We are thrilled once again have the opportunity to host ev•o•lu•tion with The Creators Collective on Saturday, April, 29th at Halyards Bar 406 3rd Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11215. 

RSVP to our facebook event HERE

and make sure to get your tickets HERE 


How I Write: Paul Fahey

Paul Alan Fahey is the author of the 2016 Rainbow Award winning writing reference, The Short and Long of It: Expand, Adapt, and Publish Your Short Fiction, and the editor of the nonfiction anthology, Equality: What Do You Think About When You Think of Equality? For eight years Paul was editor-in-chief of Mindprints, A Literary Journal, an award- winning forum for writers and artists with disabilities. 

At first, my writing was very academic. Mainly for professional development and advancement purposes in the colleges where I taught. You know the kinds of journal articles you keep by your bedside just in case you have insomnia. That kind of stuff.

When I moved to New England in the early ‘90s, as a response to losing my mom to cancer and most of my close friends to the AIDS epidemic, I became enamored of a new genre, flash fiction, then defined loosely as pieces of 250, 500 and 750 words. I wrote a lot of these tiny stories and published quite a bit of them in small lit journals and magazines. So it was no surprise when I moved back to California to teach again in the community college system that I’d create and edit an international literary journal of short fiction, memoir, poetry and art called Mindprints. Unfortunately, once I retired, so did the journal. The final issue appeared in the fall of 2007. So up to retirement, I’d gone from professional article writing in educational journals to creating very short pieces of fiction and nonfiction.

After years of writing in this tiny genre, I found I was in a rut. I wanted to break out of flash. I wanted to write longer stories. All of my writer friends were on their second or third novel. Yikes! And I was behind them. Way behind.  Yet the more I tried to break out of flash and stretch the word count, the more I felt like a tightrope walker without a net. Then a kind of miracle happened. I discovered Syd Field. I devoured his texts on screenwriting and began applying his techniques to my writing. And you know what? I discovered they worked. As a result, I created this pre-writing strategy:

Before I write one word of text, I write the story’s logline—called the throughline by most writers. This is the spine of my story summarized in a very few words. Then I think about the theme or moral core of my story—what is the universal truth I want to explore? I also want to know the story’s three-act structure as much as possible—usually the beginning and end, and at least one plot point, or turning point in the story.

Applying this strategy, I’ve gone on to write short stories, personal essays, novellas, a novel, and a writing book that discusses this very issue: how to expand and adapt short pieces into longer publishable work. And here’s the gold: If you know your story’s logline and theme and at a bit of your three-act structure before you begin the first draft, you’ll use them to s-t-r-e-t-c-h your prose in ways you never dreamed of. Trust me. It works.

 Paul lives on the California Central Coast with his husband, Robert Franks, and a gaggle of shelties. Visit him at http://www.paulalanfahey.com and purchase his new anthology Equality HERE

Our Favorite Books of Poetry

In honor of World Poetry Day, we have each reflected on our favorite poetry books. We celebrate the work of these poets and hope their writing inspires you as much as it has inspired us.


“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.”

I came across this excerpt of a poem by Richard Siken online, and these few lines captured me enough that I immediately ordered his book Crush. It was the first time I’d ever felt inclined to buy a book of poetry, and when it came I took an entire afternoon to read it cover to cover. I was crying by the end of the first poem. Siken had a way of capturing the pain and suffering of unrequited love--of obsession—in such an honest, raw, and beautiful way. I felt like he was unearthing everything I felt and was too ashamed to admit, or reveal. After reading his poetry, I wanted to write too--I wanted to explore our darker side, the monsters and skeletons we keep in our closets. It felt cathartic to talk about these things I always had felt were too taboo to reveal, in the same way it felt cathartic to read Siken’s work. I was inspired to create that feeling for someone else, which is why Crush will always have a special place on my bookshelf.


In Sasha Sings the Laundry on the Line, Sean Thomas Dougherty has translated music into language. Like Sasha, these poems sing and dip and dance “like breath across the page of a book.”  Dougherty’s poems exist in a weightless world, in the space between mourning and joy. Shell is a poem I have come back to many times over. It is a poem about fragility and resilience and when I read this poem I feel it reverberate in me the way only a poem ever can. Dougherty captures a beautiful tension in his work that I strive to bring into my own writing. 

“In the park, she found a robin’s egg, broken and blue on the sidewalk, gathered up the shards, and carried them home in the pocket of her purse. She took them out when she entered the empty apartment, spread them on the placemat he had bought. She leaned over them on the dining room table. On tiny, white pieces of shell she scratched out with the head of a pin the secret hieroglyphics of her new life. “

The Art That Connects Us

Pelorus Press believes in the importance of art and the importance of a government that prioritizes access to art for all. Art has always been viewed as an easy cut. We have frequently seen many governmental institutions favor the promotion of production for revenue at the expense of art programing.

The arts bring vital benefits to our community. Reading the proposed budget this morning reminded us of the simple yet beautiful article “Why Are Arts Important,“ by Dee Dickinson of John Hopkins School of Education.  Proven time and time again they boost test scores, social skills, and critical thinking, but most importantly, as Dickinson points out, they “are languages that all people speak that cut across racial, cultural, social, educational, and economic barriers and enhance cultural appreciation and awareness.”  Art is the way we connect with each other; it is the way we speak to each other. It builds understanding beyond our own familiarities.

With an arresting line of poetry or the stroke of a paintbrush, art reminds us that we all share in the experience that is being human. To propose a budget that strips away all federal support from the arts, including dismantling necessary public goods such as public broadcasting and grants, is to propose a dismantling of human connection.  In a world that feels like we are all floating away from each other, beyond our reach, art is the bond that keeps us tethered together. Art is our beacon that brings us back home.


Photograph by Jacquelyn Martin. Aerial dancers rehearse while suspended on ropes on the wall of the Old Post Office Pavilion, home to the National Endowment for the Arts in in Washington. Wednesday May, 9 2012. 

Visual Artist Spotlight: Sarah Fensore

Visual Artist Spotlight: Sarah Fensore

Sarah Fensore grew up in the wilds of Maine and graduated from Colby College (with a major in French and a double minor in Art and Environmental Studies) in 2013.

During college Sarah's academic concentration was in oil painting, but she dabbled in a little bit of everything with her spare time, including poster design, scenic artwork, graphic novels, t-shirt prints, photography, and prolific amounts of notebook-margin doodles. 

Read More