A young Indigenous man relates his experience of moving away from his village for the first time to live in Altamira, one of the Amazon’s most heavily deforested cities
After proclaiming “to hell with this hellish life,” the author of Macunaíma sailed the Amazon and Madeira rivers “before saying enough already.” In his travel-diary-turned-book, emotions overflow and Nature overwhelms
In this interview, Ehuana Yaira talks about the indivisible relationship between the Forest and the female body. The Yanomami artist and writer was the first member of her people to give a public talk in Europe, as part of the series “Rainforest is Female,” held at the Centre de Cultura Contemporània de Barcelona
Until the summer the sky stayed brass. No clouds. No mercy. The Kell Fire bled into Penny's gaze full-time, and the town found her at midnight, striking a match against her own thumbnail, walking barefoot toward the bone-dry church.
The town of Kell didn't need a weatherman. It had Penny Barber. penny barber, kell fire
Not a real fire. The Kell Fire . That's what they called the restless glow that flickered behind Penny's eyes whenever a dry spell cracked the earth. She'd sit on her porch, snipping ends off her own copper hair with sewing scissors, and mutter, "Three more days. Then the sky breaks." Until the summer the sky stayed brass
When Penny's left knee ached, the creek rose. When she hummed in her sleep, fog rolled in by dawn. But the real sign—the one folks whispered about—was the fire. The Kell Fire bled into Penny's gaze full-time,
That was the last clear night Kell ever saw. But they'd never forget the penny-barber girl who carried fire in her name—and dared the rain to prove her wrong.
"Penny, stop!" the sheriff yelled.
She turned, smiling like a lit fuse. "Barber's due for a trim. And Kell's due for a burn."