Immersion. What else can describe the sensation of diving into new? New what? New everything. I submersed myself into a new lifestyle, while speaking a new language, surrounded by complete and utter strangers. Though they weren’t strangers for long.
My first clear memory of the Cajamarca I know is stepping onto the roof of my new home/workplace. Everywhere I looked there was unfiltered, natural beauty. Well almost everywhere. There was the ugly roof of our next door neighbors. I digress. To my left was a breathtaking view of evergreen mountains. To …

I read an interesting article[1] the other day by Tom Swick, a veteran travel writer.[2] In it, Tom made mention of the precarious state of travel writing today. Staff writers are becoming more and more scarce, even as their freelance counterparts are finding it harder and harder to sell their work, and all at a time when travel writing is just coming into its own. On the one hand magazines and newspapers, almost universally afflicted with substandard advertisement income and faltering readership bases, are less and less ready, willing or …

The Johnsonville Press would like to introduce a new column in the Creative Section: The Pound-Eliot Exchange. Every week two artists will team up: one submits a work while the other offers stylistic commentary and contextual analysis. This column is dedicated to artistic collaboration and peer critique among artists of all kinds. Enjoy!

The Johnsonville Press would like to introduce a new column to the Creative section: The Drama Column. This column is a collaboratively written serial story that will follow the character Remus Ditto. He is a man who has lost his face and in pursuit of finding his true face, assumes several different faces and perspectives. Every week a new writer will add to Remus’s story and detail a new segment of his pursuit. The goal of this column is to encourage and promote collaborative writing among local writers. Enjoy.

A frozen rivulet of Bailey’s slowly runs between my caramel hills—
Between my erected peaks.
My breath quickens—
My stomach rises and falls as the liquid flows and rests in my navel.
A curious, crimson snake slithers savagely—
It absorbs my Sex like maddening creatures.
My Latin loins quiver incessantly.
Their opening speaks in lustful White.
It whispers your name in a seductive rhythm.
It yearns.
It craves.
Make me melt on your lips, my sweet.

This week the Johnsonville Press turns one year old, thanks to our writers, editors, and of course, you, the reader. You may not always be there for us, be we certainly love you anyway. Why else would we continue to produce interesting content, week after week, for little thanks and no compensation?

2000Ben
When I entered high school, I was told that all of my classes would be honors classes. My thought, then, was that none of my classes would be honors classes because juxtaposition is required to make that sort of distinction. (Honors without non-honors is like up without down!) Whenever I voiced this opinion I wasn’t given the response I expected, which disappointed me given that was around the time that I’d learned the word “juxtaposition” and I was pretty excited to use it.

As Of Yet Untitled

Let me be clear: I am not an Obama supporter. I did not vote for the man, and frankly, I disagree with the majority of his policy initiatives. That said, to my mind, no President has made a more real and concerted effort to cut through the muck of political rhetoric (read: lies) and work in a bipartisan manner with the opposing party.

I just got off the phone with a career counselor from Syracuse University, my alma mater.  I am now greatly saddened.  It dawns on me how insignificant and undesirable I am as a candidate for employment.

With every daunting question she broke down my enthusiasm until after half an hour, it dissipated, leaving only a bitter taste of regret and tobacco.
I told her how many resumes I had sent out, how many emails I’d written, how many job sites I perused.  I told her my hopes of being employed at an …

These photos by Dan Bracaglia, www.thelondonbroil.com, show New Brunswick after the first of two major snow systems hit the North-East. This storm established a base layer of ice that would later exacerbate road and parking conditions in the Hub City. These photographs, alternating from black and white to color, capture both the aesthetic drama and the practical inconvenience that is a blizzard in New Brunswick. All Rights Reserved. Enjoy.