High Desert Journal: HDJ 001

Panamint Range, Death Valley

Poetry

by Dave Seter | 0 Comments

Cumulus clouds of hard blue edge snag on high tabletops of rock, unravel. Water-poor, they won't travel farther, won't baptize tourists stranded on the valley floor in a broken-down VW bus. The valley's little more than a bowl of sand radiating heat even as the sun sets. We pray... Read more

That Place Where Land and Sky Meet

Fiction

by Liz Prato | 2 Comments

Cam's car crawled away from The Plaza, towards the edge of the earth, where clouds stacked up on the horizon like waves. That's how it was in Santa Fe. The clouds all hovered by the horizon instead of directly overhead, like something exciting might happen at that place where... Read more

HDJ Interview: Nate Ronniger

Interview

by Tyler Roemer | 0 Comments

Nate Ronniger creates fun, colorful oil paintings that create a story board. Ronniger lives in Arizona where he solely focuses on fine art painting. Below you will find an insight to Nate's personal style, influences and life. Tyler Roemer (TR): When did you first start in the medium of oil... Read more

Going Green: True Tales from Gleaners, Scavengers, and Dumpster Divers

New Book

by Laura Pritchett | 1 Comments

Never mind the middle-class trappings-Laura Pritchett is a Dumpster diver and proud of it. Ever since she was old enough to navigate the contents of a metal bin, she has reveled in the treasures found in other people's cast-offs. For Going Green, Pritchett has gathered the work of more than... Read more

Ways to Prevent Adultery, Numbers One Through Six

Poetry

by Maya Zeller | 0 Comments

If your husband wants to draw you naked, let him do it. Don't crawl away limp-necked, quivering snowberry thighs you might think you have. To him your flesh is an alluvial tower he climbs like a mountain, each pink smear a ledge for his hands. Let him tell you he wants to carry you over his shoulder. If he loves... Read more

The Hour of the Snake

Poetry

by Rick Kempa | 0 Comments

We're coming down from Wassan Peak in the twilight when a sharp quick rasp, metallic in the dry air, of a rattler stretched across the trail freezes us in place. The first of anything provokes wonder, and J.D. is aroused. He inches closer than he should, stares into the lidless... Read more