The smile of the Moon, the blanket of dusk

The smile of the Moon, the blanket of dusk. Is it time to sleep now? I gently ask. Not till I sing you my song tonight, a soft little tune in the pale, blue light: Will you be mine, will I be yours? Will love see us through regret and loss? Will we still be dancing when all this ends; will we be together, still holding our hands? Read more >

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Jazz in all its forms

The roots of jazz run deep in Seattle culture. From the ’20s through the ’50s, the jazz scene flourished in nightclubs along Jackson Street, starting

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Willy’s Wonderland

Cinema was not expressly invented so Nicolas Cage could urinal-stomp an animatronic gorilla to death in a children’s restaurant restroom, and yet here is Willy’s

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