Blossoms, Glitter, and Silver Thaw

February 2018

While in residence at The Wells House, Joe Batt’s Arm, Fogo Island, I walk every day near The Witch’s Foot.

Tromping on snow shoes in a down parka, with camera (and keeping my eye on the running dog), is hard work.

I feel like a tourist but assure myself that, despite what this may look like to others, I’m not, because I live in Newfoundland.

I don’t quite convince myself.

I dismiss that thought and look back to this incredible place. The silence. The glare. The snow blinds me.

I stop and look upwards. I turn my camera sideways. The vertical format captures the relationship of the sky to the land.

Along with the Inn (houses, rocks, trees, SUVs, sheds, and people) I am clinging to the earth.

Fogo Island, Land, Sky, Shed. Ingrid Percy, 2017.

Fogo Island, Land, Sky, Ground. Ingrid Percy, 2017.

Fogo Island, Land, Sky, Long Studio. Ingrid Percy, 2017.

Fogo Island, Land, Sky, Twlight. Ingrid Percy, 2017.

Fogo Island, Land, Sky, Houses, Truck. Ingrid Percy, 2017.

Fogo Island, Land, Sky, Sunset. Ingrid Percy, 2017.

Personal soundtrack- A chat with Jamie Fitzpatrick

BY Rebecca Cohoe

“When you’re young, you use music to invent yourself.” So said Jamie Fitzpatrick when I spoke with him about his second novel, The End of Music. Throughout the story, popular songs, from old standards to indie rock, shape the world of his characters. Our conversation ranged from his hometown of Gander to whether or not it is wrong to make your children listen to The Eagles in the car.

None This Tide / Nor Any Tide

My Boy Jack, by Rudyard Kipling “Have you news of my boy Jack?” Not this tide. “When d’you think that he’ll come back?” Not with this wind blowing, and this…