STUDIO MARKUS HAALA

HOMEGROWN STORIES 2024: SERENDIPITY

For the 2024 edition of Homegrown Stories, the organizers paired collaborative partners to create visuals and sound, which were then combined into a single piece. To learn more about the project and the participating artists, please visit www.homegrownstories.com.

HOMEGROWN STORIES 2023: TEN

2023 marks the tenth anniversary of Homegrown Stories and to celebrate, the organizers invited back some of their favorite collaborators to create new work around the theme of TEN. To learn more about the project and the participating artists please visit www.homegrownstories.com

HOMEGROWN STORIES 2022: THE YEAR OF LEFTOVERS

In 2022 the Homegrown Stories artists will be using leftovers as source material for three video projects. Three sound artists were asked to create short soundtracks using their leftovers which will be served up to our film artists as inspiration for their leftover videos. The project is led by LeAnn Erickson, a film and video production professor at Temple University, and Sandra Louise Dyas, a visual artist and published author living in Iowa City. To learn more about the project and the participating artists please visit www.homegrownstories.com

May the pond be free
from its companion        pondwater
blackening          the pond’s edges

           slipping             as it does
to the sides    behind
           below   a swimming     adder

May the air and the sky be excused
from one another             as a child
from a table         as a table

from its planes the         house from
its frame           Free
             garden from dirt

             garden
from sprouts waxing
white and long under layers

of mulch         Part spring from cold part
wood from grain part grain part monstrous
shout     Part splinter

from wood       splinter from flesh
Toss it in the fire
divorce fire

from its color its tremble and
its burn
           Divorce:          does a door

need a wall to become itself
to separate
           from to open to allow

APOLLO by Melissa Ginsburg

Wolf god. Sheep god. God trapped in a mine. God of fields
and flowers. Of pastures and herds. God of exoskeletons. Hunter
and flayer, feeder of snakes. Healer god of arrows, of oracles
you will never figure out. God of colonies and the crying rock.
Unshorn god. Shining god of mice and islands.

Wolf of healing. God in the womb already frightening. Killer of
cyclops maker of lightning. God of moderation. Monster of
light. Tender protector. Hunter god liar god. Colonizing god,
god of ships leaving, of sun in the sky, of tunnels and holes, of
sowing a seed. Slayer of Python. God of the deal.

Farm god. Lover god. God of my sister Artemis goddess of that
sleek lens through which I look, the moon. God of ships and a
sun. Supplier god, contract god. Twin god and wave god.
Waving goodbye on the dock and the ship leaving god on a
wave.

God of the oracle stops. God of compromise and centuries. God
of whispered riddles swallowed on an island. Snake-eaten god.
God of dried up waters, cratering depths. Canyon, erosion,
billowing out. Tributary god cut off from its source. God of the
dry bed, of the cold war. Together with Artemis slayer of
progeny. Husbanding the silver arrows. Quiver in the outskirts
of the sky.