Calvin Baker
I read an essay recently by a venerable old man of letters, bewailing the demise of fiction. If he could spend a day at StillWaters he would know, at least in this corner in Bushwick, it is vibrantly alive; giving spark to the same fires of the imagination that flamed in him when he was a boy, illuminating his life with the stupendous joy of seeing the otherwise invisible made whole and real.
Certainly it did for me, and I urge you to support this vital, enchanted place, its founder Stephen Haff, and the miraculous things that are happening here, not by magic, but intense dedication to the knowledge that what happens in our interior selves is what happens in the world.