catapult magazine

vol. 13, num. 9 :: 2014.05.02 — 2014.05.15

For some, the relationship to the places where they live is characterized by fidelity, not unlike a marriage relationship. What does it mean to love our places in sickness and in health, for better or worse, ‘til death do us part?

Feature

E pluribus unum

by Cary Umhau

At home in Washington, D.C., next door or across town.

Palm Sunday biking

by Laura Menze

A reflection on place during a season of discernment.

Editorial

Places are people, too

by Kirstin Vander Giessen-Reitsma

What can you say when home gets down on one knee?

Articles

Thin places

by Jan Roberts Culpepper

Exploring the memories buried beneath the surface of the family farm.

From Stephens Street to Tulip Road

by Jim Schmotzer

It’s a long way, and yet not so far, between then and now.

All people like me

by Sarah Lynn Phillips

To travel, or to stay at home? A question of identity.

Your city is calling

by Katie Fox

An love letter to Austin, Texas, in all of its incarnations.

Summer home

by Rebecca Loescher

A reflection on the powerful hold a cottage can have on our hearts.

When home is not a house

by Carol Brennan King

Pondering the sense of belonging that transcends a structure.

Reviews

Staging hurt and hope

by Bill Boerman-Cornell

Albany Park Theater Project’s God’s Work shows us the kind of world we live in.

Gallery

The Year of Dragonflies

by Uma Gowrishankar

Manifesto

by Linnea McLaughlin

In case you missed it the first time

Fishing

by Christopher Nonhof

A place is intimately connected with the memory of a grandmother.

The sound of transition

by Kate Bowman Johnston

A move to Pennsylvania from Michigan inspires a meaningful mix CD.

Weaving the web

The history of a room

Art House America

Lindsay Crandall on renovating a room for her daughter.

Origin stories

The Other Journal

A poem by Jennifer Strange.

daily asterisk

Even in a country you know by heart
its hard to go the same way twice
the life of the going changes.
The chances change and make a new way.
Any tree or stone or bird
can be the bud of a new direction. The
natural correction is to make intent
of accident. To get back before dark
is the art of going.

Wendell Berry
“Traveling at Home” from Traveling at Home

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