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Stevens Point (and neighbors) Calendar of Events.

ArtFebruary 2UWSP Arts Bash. 7:30-10:30 p.m. Carlsten Art Gallery.

February 8Central Wisconsin Cultural Center Presents Alexander Landerman. 5:00-8:00 p.m. Central Wisconsin Cultural Center, Wisconsin Rapids.

February 8-March 10Dennis Nechvatal: A New Direction. Carlsten Art Gallery.

Through February 17Winter’s Garden Exhibit. Riverfront Arts Center.

Through February 28Jeff Morin: Recent Work. Reception: Jan 18, 5:30 - 7:30 p.m. Gallery Q.

ComedyFebruary 15Chris James. 8:00 p.m. DUC, UWSP.

Community/FundraisingFebruary 7Farmshed Foodfair. 5:30-8:30 p.m. SPASH.

February 14Lovers of Wisdom Valentines Dinner. Proceeds to benefit Tomorrow River Community Charter School. 6:30 p.m. Central Wisconsin Brewery, Amherst.

Courses/WorkshopsAnytime, OnlineIntroduction to Renewable Energy Online. Midwest Renewable Energy Association. Call 592-6595 or visit www.midwestrenew.org/workshops to register.

Anytime, OnlineWorking with Electricity Online. Midwest Renewable Energy Association. Call 592-6595 or visit www.midwestrenew.org/workshops to register.

February 6-March 13Digital SLR Photography 101. Wednesdays, 6:00-8:00 p.m. UWSP Continuing Education. Call 346-3838 for availability.

February 9Fly Tying Workshop. 9:30-1:30 p.m. Portage County Public Library.

February 11-March 10Advancements in PV Online. Midwest Renewable Energy Association. Call 592-6595 or visit www.midwestrenew.org/workshops to register.

February 15-17Beginning Farmer Course. Farmshed. 9:00-4:00 p.m. Register by Feb 6. 715-544-6154.

February 16Rosemailing Winter Workshop. 9:30-4:30 p.m. UWSP Continuing Education. Call 346-3838 for availability.

February 25-March 24PV Site Assessor Training Online. Midwest Renewable Energy Association. Call 592-6595 or visit www.midwestrenew.org/workshops to register.

DanceFebruary 16Contra and Square Dance. 7:30 p.m. Jensen Community Center, Amherst.

MusicMondaysSing That Tune Karaoke. 9:30 p.m. Partners Pub.

WednesdaysAcoustic Open Mic with the Sloppy Joe Band. 8:00 - 11:00 p.m. Northland Sports Bar and Grill.

February 1Twenty One Pilots with New Politics. 8:00 p.m. DUC, UWSP.

February 1UWSP Jazz Festival. 7:30 p.m. Michaelson Hall, UWSP.

February 2PepperBox. 10:00 p.m. Congress Club.

February 7R.A.S. Movement (Reggae). 8:00 p.m. DUC, UWSP.

February 8Sexy Ester with BlackSheep (Punk Rock). 8:00 p.m. DUC, UWSP.

February 15Freeze Fest with RHA featuring Filligar (Alt. Rock). 8:00 p.m. DUC, UWSP.

February 16Space Capone (Funk/Disco). 8:00 p.m. DUC, UWSP.

February 16Galynne Goodwill. 10:00 p.m. Guu’s on Main.

February 17The Monteverdi Chorale Presents: Sweetheart Cabaret. 5:00 p.m. Holiday Inn.

February 21Foghorn String Band with Sloppy Joe (Bluegrass). 8:00 p.m. DUC, UWSP.

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Calendar of Events (con’t), andrew peterson of OVER NIGHT EMPIREFebruary 22PHOX with Haunted Heads (Alt. Rock). 8:00 p.m. DUC, UWSP.

Outdoors/SportballFebruary 2Free Cross Country Skiing. 8:30-4:00 p.m. Standing Rocks.

February 2Great Northern Gymnastics Meet. 11:00 a.m. SPASH.

February 2Snowshoe the Ice Age Trail. 1:00-3:00 p.m. Ice Age Trail Parking Area, Amherst.

February 9Frigid Frolic 3 v 3 Soccer Tournament. SentryWorld Sports Center.

TheaterFebruary 8-10; 13-16How I Learned to Drive. 7:30 p.m.; Feb. 10, 2:00 p.m. Studio Theater, UWSP.

February 8-10; 15-17Murdered to Death. 7:30 p.m.; Feb. 10 and 17, 4:00 p.m. @1800 Theater.

If you would like to see your event in The Bitchin’ Kitsch next month, please email the details to chris@talbot-heindl.com.

Rick, Shane, TrunkAndrew Peterson of OVER NIGHT EMPIREGraphite on paper

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content feb 2013Scorpion Wins - Dana Talbot-Heindl

Calendar of Events

Rick, Shane, Trunk - Andrew Peterson of OVER NIGHT EMPIRE

blue steel in the hour of chaos - douglas somers

Hands-Off Intellectual Property: A reaction to Glee - Chris Talbot Heindl

Ash- Andrew Peterson of OVER NIGHT EMPIRE

Monthly Mission Submission

the stars on mars are different than ours - douglas somers

Tender Thought (Self-sufficient Shorty) - Terry Scott Niebeling

Guns Galore! - Kenneth Abraham

Untitled - Freedom Heindl

The African Rains. - Afzal Moolla

Blameworthy - Anand Salve

I Dream of Death - Marc Carver

How I Find the Time to Write - Paul Hostovsky

There is Always Time - Zachary Frisch

Mt. Baker - Jameson Stewart

#71 - Dan Hedges

I look to you - Dawnell Harrison

At 52:13 Hours - Mike Cluff

Jesus on Cable TV - Colin Dodds

Odd Moments of Idle Musings - Sy Roth

Another World Away - Jason Ford

The Mare at the Gate - Holly Day

Sludge-Bot (The World Meets Dr. Wang) - Louis Marvin & XY

zaphiro - douglas somers

Donors and Index

Rick What - Andrew Peterson of OVER NIGHT EMPIRE

monthly mission submission - pg. 7

on the front cover:Scorpion WinsDana Talbot-HeindlOil pastels on paperwww.talbot-heindl.com

on the inside back cover:Rick WhatAndrew Peterson of OVER NIGHT EMPIREInk on paper

the bitchin’ kitsch video and music issue:Check out this month’s “issue” link of video and music at www.talbot-heindl.com/bitchin_kitsch.html or www.youtube.comTheBitchinKitsch

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Freedom Heindl - pg. 9

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about b’k:the bitchin’ kitsch is a zine for artists, poets, prose writers, or anyone else who has something to say. it exists for the purpose of open creativity. if you have something you want to share, please email it to chris@talbot-heindl.com.

are you a video or music artist? submit your youtube link or original file to dana@talbot-heindl.com.

all submissions are due on the 26th for the following month’s issue.

ideas:have a seriously bitchin’ idea that could make the bitchin’ kitsch that much better? we want to hear from you. email chris@talbot-heindl.com with your ideas.

community copies:sit down and read the bitchin’ kitsch at our community locations: zest, the smith scarabocchio art museum, epic studios tattooing and piercing, the coffee studio, and noel fine arts center. want to house a community copy? email chris@talbot-heindl.com.

advertising:the bitchin’ kitsch is offering crazy low rates of $5 for a fourth-page ad, $10 for a half-page ad, and $20 for a full page ad. book yours today by emailing chris@talbot-heindl.com.

donation:we love our donors. If you would like to become a donor, email chris@talbot-heindl.com and make your pledge.

douglas somers.

blue steel in the hour of chaosdouglas somersPrint

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chris talbot-heindl.

Hands-Off Intellectual Property – A reaction to GleeBy: Chris Talbot-Heindl

Anyone who’s had me do or edit his or her graphic design knows that I’m a stickler for intellectual property. Anyone who’s asked me to do a collaborative piece with them knows that if they come to me with an idea that’s a spin off of someone else’s, they will get an earful about intellectual property.

The thing is, whether something is copyrighted or not, I will not touch it with a ten foot pole. And you shouldn’t either.

On January 24, 2013, Glee did a rip-off so clearly of indie musician, Jonathan Coulton, who covered “Baby Got Back” in a fresh, and entirely new way. (I ought to know as my friends and I, way back in 1993 must have listened to the original about 1,000 times while we made a dance that we thought was the cat’s meow. Jonathan Coulton’s version is extremely different and I’d say actually is the cat’s meow.)

Glee ripped off Coulton’s arrangement. Right down to the sound effects, the cadence, the instrument choice, and all. Glee. A show that spends so much per episode, they could pay for an entire country’s deaths in a Disney factory “accident” recompense settlement. To add further insult to injury, Glee then placed the song for sale on iTunes.

So, why is this a contentious point for me? I’m all for sharing (sharing is caring), I can’t stand lawyers or frivolous lawsuits, and I understand that we are living in a post-modern world where not much hasn’t already been done.

Intellectual property is all that some of us have. Being an artist is a labor of love. We wrack our brains, we stay up in the middle of the night to get everything just right, we second guess ourselves, we work at it and trash it and rebuild it better. Then we finally put it out there for the world to see. The end product and what people eventually see is a compilation of everything that we are, everything that we think, and everything that we do.

Then some asshole comes and steals it, and takes your work and your identity. And this particular asshole has

the money, time, and people power to do anything. Instead, they’ve taken Coulton’s hard work and rode on his coattails to deliver it to an audience that will never know that the real brains behind this operation is Coulton. The audience is larger than Coulton will likely ever reach (based on the network exposure and the money they can throw at advertising it). It won’t matter to anyone that it wasn’t Glee, Fox, or any of their “writers” that brought them this enjoyment. It was an indie artist, Jonathan Coulton, who has not, and likely, will not receive the credit.

If I wasn’t already not watching Glee, I would likely take this time to boycott the shit out of it on principle.

For more information about this, visit Jonathan Coulton’s blog at http://www.jonathancoulton.com/2013/01/18/baby-got-back-and-glee/ and for god’s sake, listen to his music! Also visit the Wired article by Laura Hudson where you can hear the two tracks side-by-side at http://www.wired.com/underwire/2013/01/jonathan-coulton-glee-song/?cid=co5508964

And for the love of little baby jeebus, hands-off intellectual property!

AshAndrew Peterson of OVER NIGHT EMPIREInk on paper

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monthly mission submission, douglas somers.

the stars on mars are different than oursdouglas somersPainting

monthly mission submissionEvery month, artists indicate that they would like to submit to The Bitchin’ Kitsch but don’t know what to draw. Every month, there will be proposed phrase to play around with. This month’s phrase is “Hollywood hot pink firecracker love” submitted by Jameson Stewart.

Next month’s phrases will be “for the love of baby jeebus” submitted by The Oh Christ!. If you would like to suggest a phrase for the month of April, simply submit it on Facebook. The suggestions that receive the most likes will be the phrases for April.

Chris Talbot-HeindlAnimation still (Check out the video/music edition for the full animation - www.youtube.comTheBitchinKitsch)

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terry scott niebeling.

Tender Thought (Self-sufficient Shorty)By Terry Scott Niebeling

She asked me if I ever got writer’s block…I thought about it…Yeah… I thought, but only when I’m in love; I can’t seem to get out of bed…***

All that stuff in the past, I can’t rewind that.

Think as it passes, and then relax, its as good as trash at this juncture, in relation to my head.

I was gathering dust and rust with lust, so I traded in.And found something underrated.

I found something that was there with patience:Greatness.

Like rocks in a river.Like cold to a shiver.Like heat to a blister.

One another, together; behold a symbiotic situation.A generation waited in anticipation.Baited with cinematic inspiration.

And mildly let down…

Until…

It Feels like a lifetime since I’ve said I love you like this.It Feels like bliss.

Like that.Like old hat.Like a first kiss.

Like this:

Not unlike the heat of super-glue placement on flesh, but absolutely benign.Love is hope.Love stops time.Love is divine, and blind.

Love loses coordination; A sea-sick sailor, oh(!), on weak knees.A maladroit, worth being teased.It’s not butterflies within my stomach, its children on

trampolines.

Trapeze.

Water and debris, in all its glory, just float by me.All to see; my mind’s absorbing and storing.

Stuff like this needs to be remember for later, saved for a rainy day as they say.

Call it Zen, call it mother hen to chicks, call it being logi-cal and simplistic.We all need shelter.We all need a little helper.

Every movement of the eyes is categorized, recorded, and translated into a statement.What do they see?

Check the facts, there are no stats on love.Nothing hanging above, just pure perception, intention, and honor.

Like subjective minutiae worth the weight of the world sitting on your chest.Like boys and girls.Like coming unfurled; sprawled for all to see when you’re not at your best.

There is only true feeling.No embarrassment, guilt, or regret.It is heaven-sent, even to the non-believer.

To live without such love would be oppression, regression of my true nature.Not a misunderstood nomenclature, just part of my culture.

How one survives without someone like her, I’d be damned to know…She is like a warm drink and chaser in midwinter, she and I sat bedside as the sky turned grey.

We had only good things to say; no stones to throw.

And that is what I thought of on New Year’s Day.I thought of writer’s block, and how it felt when she and I were alone.

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kenneth abraham, freedom heindl, afzal moolla.

Guns Galore!By: Kenneth Abraham

Ah, yes, America, land of guns galore,You can buy one at any Wal Mart store,Rifle, shotgun, pistol or assault weapon with a 30 round clip,Got to get one, maybe carry it on your hip,Then, if you’re a real loony tune and the fancy strikes,You can slaughter scores of people, to your bizarre delight,Want to really claim your fifteen minutes of fame?How many young children can you kill and maim?

America averages about 11,000 to 12,000 gun deaths each and every year,In Great Britain, where only the Bobbies bear arms, the difference is clear:35 +/-Today’s proliferation of firearms is not constitutionally protected,Thank God, it seems the situation is about to be slightly corrected,Did you see the nut jobs on TV, screaming numerous inaccurate facts?Espousing very limited controls on firearms, so that any fool can attack,Sure, they have their precious right to free speech,But pay them no mind, reign them in, I beseech,As for those who would like to kick gun control to the gutter,Were their 8 or 9 year old princess slaughtered, a different tune would utter.

The African Rains. By: Afzal Moolla

Soaking, the rains settle,meandering over jagged faultlines of our memory.

Drenching,the rains settle,streaming through veins,

the thud-thudding of the heartbeat of Africa.

Absorbing,the rains that settle,within each of us,

herald rebirth.

And,if you listen,

if you strain to hear,while shedding the raucous noise of your inner turmoil.

If you listen,

the whispers of the ancestors,

speak to us all,lending us warmth,

urging us to stand,

even though we may stumble,

even though we may fall.

UntitledFreedom HeindlGraphite and colored pencil on paper

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anand salve, marc carver, paul hostovsky, zachary frisch.

BlameworthyBy: Anand Salve

When the sun at the brink of dawn I remember you,Even at the brink of dusk I remember you,It’s all about thinking of you day and night.Is it I am blameworthy……

One day I smiled,The next day I was filled with hatred,I buried you alive,Is it I am blameworthy……..

The day I met you I was ecstatic,With no reason I fell in love with you,As if you were the fragrance that filled my soul,Is it I am blameworthy……

I came to you to give my heart back,Instead you stab my heart,Leaving it bleeding down the street,Why I love you so much, there is no answer for that.I crossed all shores to reach you,Every moment of life has you and only you,Is this the reason I am blameworthy……

You have seal my soul and made it of no use,Be happy where you go and stay,It’s not like I am complaining,I really like this pain,But still somewhere I feel I am blameworthy………….

I Dream of Death.By: Marc Carver

There are Raphael paintings in the sky by dayas clouds race by.The days are mostly the same toobut i never see the same clouds.

Day is now night and how bright that moon is.Not full, just like a eye.The all seeing eye.If it turned and looked it would see straight into my heart if i let it.

Only good men die on nights like this.Warm death blanketed by dreamswhispering the journey for you my friend is over.

How I Find the Time to Write By: Paul Hostovsky

Today I steal it from my employerwho writes me up or maybefires me when he catches me writingthis poem on his time. I don’tpay you for this, he says, holding it upto my face, slapping it oncehard with the back of his hand foremphasis, like a perfect rhyme.I wince because I don’t likeperfect rhymes in my poems, and I parrywith this line about apocalyptic eschatologywhich throws him off completely.So now we’re arm wrestling on his desk,pushing and squeezing and perspiring whenhis secretary knocks on the doorjamband we both look up. She hasthe loveliest breasts of all the secretaries.She announces matter-of-factly that henceforthshe will be my secretary not his secretaryand that’s when I slam his arm down on his deskwhich is my desk now with my poem on itand my sweat and his blood and her breastsin it and all the time in the world for it.

There Is Always TimeBy: Zachary Frisch

I want you to be my Judas,my plague; my hollow wind.I want your subtle madnessinked upon roads; dragged upon skin.

I want such haunted beauty,it aspires; it transcends, the forms we lay in open ground,shallow graves; plots of men.

I want such bloody love,such devastation; such devotion,to never regret the cogs we turned in life,that we designed; we set in motion.

Finally, I want a tortured soul,to repair; to piece together,to tread upon a lake of fire that never quells;that flows and burns (forever)

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jameson stewart, dan hedges, dawnell harrison, mike cluff, colin dodds.

At 52:13 hoursBy: Mike Cluff

Stenciling “love”or a peace signonto human fleshmade be all rightsuch tattooing howeverdoes not settoo well with me.

On an albino molly,or neon stripinga tiny tetra,the act is enoughto force meto abandon cod and salmonfor a bitso to lose my remainingsense of hopein this race of animalsI was bornoh too naturally into.

Jesus on Cable TVBy: Colin Dodds

I bet Jesus swore all the time.

“Blessed are the fucked.”

“Forgive those assholes, Father, they don’t know their souls from their scrotums.”

And he will cuss when he returns.

“You have turned my father’s house into a den of bake sales and toy drives—

You little shits.”

Mt. BakerBy: Jameson Stewart

I can imagine myself somewhere in ColoradoCurled in bed with a beautiful womanHer two cats nestled quietlyBetween our pillowsOne of them behind my kneesEasy like the last piece of a puzzleThere’s a windowOpposite of her fireplaceAnd outside the windowThe world is a snow globe Turned upside downSoftAnd the fire sings brightFlames while the catsStretch, adjust, and fall backInto slumber as she rests Her head on my canvasOnly I’m not in DenverI’m in CincinnatiAnd there’s no snowOnly rainNot even cold rainJust rainBigFatDrops81 degrees And the wind pushes in the rainThrough the windowMy chair becomes a child’s swimming poolAnd a man in the room across from the windowSnores his saxophone As if he’s in a jazz club in New OrleansI start another poemI haven’t written in two monthsBut here comes inspirationOnly it’s a few lines shortWithout an endingI put down the penPour my last glass of wineTurn on the radio

A prelude performed byThe Ukraine National Symphony OrchestraAnd before I fall asleepI check Craigslist forFOOD/BEV/HOSP jobsSUBLETS/TEMPORARY RENTALSIn Denver

The only way to beginA great romanceOr end a bad poemIs suddenly.

#71By: Dan Hedges

{you imagine yourself as a blue dotwith no responsibilities in themorning except forjust ‘holding it together’that is the tone andshape of the dot;and whereas the believed blue dothas staying powerour only one shot at eternityhas nothing to do withpersonal identity}

I look to youBy: Dawnell Harrison

I look to youWhen clouds darkenAnd I trip overEmpty roadwaysFor no reason.I look to youWhen time is likeA robin withoutIts tender wings.I look to you whenThe day tumblesInto the naked vastnessOf a sleepless night.I look to youFor guidance whenA compass is not at hand.

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jason ford, holly day, sy roth.

Another World AwayBy: Jason Ford

Another world away from hereContains the melodies I seek to findAs I begin to search for what is clearAmong the maps which come to mind.

Each map I read reveals the reasons whyA world which exists as prone to dustCannot contain the kind of tunes which flyAbove temporal objects which turn to rust.

As border line between a higher stateAnd forms of sight restricted to the earthBecomes clear, I reach desire to now equateMyself with strength of tunes providing mirth.

Only now, do I come to realiseThe emptiness of being left as numbTo higher kinds of truth which compriseOf melodies surpassing beats of drum.

Although my ears cannot taste the soundOf tunes ascending well beyond this world,Desire for higher tunes remains profoundAs forms of zeal are set to be unfurled.

The Mare at the GateBy: Holly Day

she senses me close by, snorts and turns aroundapproaches the wire screen covered in morning gloriesand lets down her head. I give her the appleI’ve carried in my pocket all daysimply waiting for this instant.

when I close my eyes, the fence has vanished, the houses have disappeared, the town is gone.we lope and gallop unfettered, trampling wildflower-filled meadowspausing only to eat, to drink, to sleep

the telephone calls me back to the authentic version of the world and I have to go. I stroke her velvety muzzle, rub my cheek against hers the heaviness of my desire to stay glues my breath to my lungsdragging at me as I trudge back indoors.

Odd Moments of Idle Musings By: Sy Roth

they hack through the earth’s core machines biting it,slipping their long pipes into the aquifersquirrling through thin layers to find watermussing lush patches of herlusting for her water.I’m thirsty.

a dog pees against the cobblestones, its owner tapping his footwhistling a you-don’t-see-me tuneI conjectured—at the seemingly endless flow, and

the dog’s ahhhhh grin as his urine burden splashes.an idle thought wiggles in

traipsing through for a playful second--I see a Tyrannosaurus Rex behind my eyesand I watch him peelifting his huge leg,evacuating his bladder--how much water would he produce?a lake?fill a cairn?I think.

I imagined the waters of millions of Tyrrani

filling reservoirs. I watch their water seep into the soil and leak into yellow cisterns for millennia.perhaps the waters of those gothic beastsnourish us today, we being blessed by the nurturing waters of the gargantuas.My thirst slaked.

final observation--that dog scratches at the ground with its hind paws, marches snappily behind its ownerunconcerned that he could be hydrating future generationsthe corers, as well, still pierceunwittingly.I laugh.

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louis marvin & xy.

Sludge-Bot (The World Meets Dr. Wang) By: Louis Marvin & XY

She’s watching the press conference on the TV, but listening to Holst’s “The Planets”. Strange that she is listening to the Mars-Bringer of War, while she is Venus-The Bringer of Peace.

She’s waiting to be introduced to the world as the leader of the E R * project. She is the tough, but nurturing Doctor/Scientist/Inventor. One bilingual in English and Mandarin, able to breach the Great Wall and leap into the Grand Canyon. Now living as the hapa doctor on the islands of Hawaii, while her working worlds will be on Mars, the Moon and the ocean deep.

The classic music lets her drift back to the time her and dad spread out the recycle material on the kitchen table and created the model of the Sludge-Bot. She was sent to Seattle as one of 10 kids out of 3,000 participants in this science contest from 150 cities across the U.S. The sludge-bot was real now and working and able to work with all sorts of dire to man chemical and biological spills, since it ran from remote control.

She saw herself playing piano, viola, tennis, dancing and singing, always with her parents in her corner. Although they were very stern, they had great humor to go with this.

Mother and her fought, complete with Chinese sayings and pictures of great-grandfather dying, and grandfather and grandmother beaten and thrown into prison. The family was relocated and split up, all while the revolution marched on. Mother was not forgiving in her assessment of the easy life of American children, and especially one in such a relaxed place as Hawaii.

Mother and Chinese grandmother often had heated discussions on the phone, while she did her math and science or watched old programs and movies with dad.

She often asked her students, co-workers, or those at lectures, “Anybody here have a Chinese mom?” They would laugh and she would explain why she had an M.D. and PhD. And, why she was so damned driven, in two languages on two continents.

She was shaken out of her daydream by “Greensleeves”, which was at the tail end of her Planets music she so enjoyed.

She was about to be introduced to the world.

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we love our donors!We love our donors, and to prove it, we’re going to let you know who they are. Without their generosity, the Bitchin’ Kitsch would probably not make it through the year. If you would like to become a donor and see your name here, email chris@talbot-heindl.com and make your pledge.

acquaintences of the bitchin’ kitsch ($1-10) - Colin Bares, Casey Bernardo, Eric Krszjzaniek, Dana Lawson, Jason Loeffler, Justin Olszewski

friends of the bitchin’ kitsch ($11-50) - Charles Kelly, Kenneth Spalding

lovers of the bitchin’ kitsch ($51-100) - Scott Cook, Jan Haskell, Keith Talbot

partners of the bitchin’ kitsch ($101-1,000) - Felix Gardner

parents of the bitchin’ kitsch ($1,001 & up) - The Talbot-Heindl’s

advertisersBitchin’ Kitsch 16

Second Space 13

www.talbot-heindl.com 7

artistsAbraham, Ken 9

Andrew Peterson of OVER NIGHT EMPIRE 3, 6, 15

Carver, Marc 10

Cluff, Mike 11

Day, Holly 12

Dodds, Colin 11

Ford, Jason 12

Frisch, Zachary 10

Harrison, Dawnell 11

Hedges, Dan 11

Heindl, Freedom 9

Hostovsky, Paul 10

Marvin, Louis 13

Moolla, Afzal 9

Neibeling, Terry Scott 8

Roth, Sy 12

Salve, Anand 10

somers, douglas 5, 7, 14

Stewart, Jameson 11

Talbot-Heindl, Chris 6

Talbot-Heindl, Dana cover

XY 13

douglas somers, donors, index.

zaphiradouglas somersPrint

a talbot-heindl project1600 reserve st, stevens point, wi 54481www.talbot-heindl.com