burning river
When I was at school in Ireland, I only had one professor who knew anything about Cleveland. Whenever he introduced me, he would say, "This is Stephanie - she's from the city where the river burned."
The fire my professor was thinking of was in 1969, but the river burned many times before that. This is a photo from the worst fire, November 1952.
Photo by James Thomas. November 3, 1952. Via Cleveland Memory.
plywood sofa
This plywood sofa from Piet Hein Eek is making me wish for power tools. Spotted at Apartment Therapy.
become part of the poetry producing masses
'Let’s say you’re the average person who gets up in the morning, reads some poetry with your Honey Nut Cheerios, hops on a jammed subway car with your poetry newspaper folded vertically in half, works from 9 to 5 with only a few poetry breaks in between, and then after a long day comes home to read some inspirational sonnets in the warm glow of your inglenook. You’re tired of being part of the poetry-consuming masses and want to become part of the poetry-producing masses.'
from Poetry by the Numbers: Eight shortcuts to writing timeless odes and getting $$$ for it by Gary Rudoren.