The Soiled Doves of Silverton


Photo by Kathryn Colestock-Burke

In September 2013 I became enamored with a 177 year-old woman named Mollie Foley. Well, if she were still breathing she’d be 177 years old. Mollie was a prostitute, born in 1836, who died in Silverton, Colorado. All I know of Mollie is from a graveyard epitaph, labeling her “a soiled dove remembered.”

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From Mourning to Wonderland

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The Sea and Beyond: Eric Peters talks about his latest record release

FSS cover_No Text

Your new album is called Far Side of the Sea, does the sea itself represent to something special to you? If so, can you flesh out that symbol for us?

My fascination with the sea must be subconscious because I don’t much like being in the ocean, or in any large, open body of water for that matter. I’m terrified of sharks and jellyfish and nibbling creatures with teeth that live in water. Guess I watched too many horror films in the 1980s. Thalassophobia aside, I have indeed used more than my fair share of nautical imagery over the years. The sea is such a massive, empty foreboding expanse, a chasm, if you will, between terra firma. No man can swim across it

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An Unfinished List


Ever since I learned how to make a list, I’ve been documenting my life. I used to make lists of all the towns I’ve lived in, all the states and all the addresses, as well as all the schools, teachers and best friends I’ve ever known. It made me feel better to see these things written down in black and white, and it soothed the fear that I might forget important details. Perhaps I was trying to make sense of all the moving my family had done. Perhaps I thought examining those lists would help me come up with a formula to help figure out why life was so unpredictable. Perhaps I was hoping to use that formula to solve this equation called life, and then I’d be able to live the rest of my days with a different remainder.

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