Calvin is an on-again/off-again scribbler who currently resides in Istanbul. Stories (and sometimes poems, essays and characters, too) tend to take him unawares, appearing from out of the woodwork of dreams both sleeping and waking. He feels lucky to have lived abroad for the past eight years, which has allowed much in the way of solitude and continual, eye-opening surprise. Further examples of his work can be perused (see under NOTES) on his Facebook page.
Calvin Arthur Rambler
He begins in mid-sentence, as if the brush and colours were a furtherance of something begun long before and left alone to find itself again. The brush a whisper against canvas, t... READ...
Read part 1 Colours tumble through his mind, suspended stones, each turning in the light, until he has selected the one to begin with. The first strokes attach themselves like butt... READ...
A steady stream of schoolgirls stirs the candle-smoke as they drift by, drawn in a line through the wide wooden doorway of the Todaiji Temple. The barking of their guides (stolid o... READ...
The first one finds him on the twenty-fifth of March, working on a shallow shelf in Juco Minami, the staff member calling back through the open door. He looks up, swivels in his ch... READ...
A male deer, his antlers shorn and capped with rounded nubs, nuzzles a spray of fallen branches, as if trying to reattach them. A rope-curtain’s braids swing unaided. Sun-sha... READ...
Green lakebed balanced on a fish’s back. Tall pines nodding heads together, silenced by laughter. Willow bough weeps green leaves onto turtle shell. Splayed giant’s fin... READ...
The turtles are back, ascended from whatever green depths have kept them, hidden, throughout the winter. Last week there were three or four. Today i counted forty on one log alone... READ...
