In this issue, you will find a cat, a rattlesnake, and bumps raising like braille. You will also find an interview about the philosophy of aesthetics with Professor Jay A. Gupta. He teaches at Mills College and once gave me a C on a paper. When I went to his office to ask why, he said: “You told me where you arrived but you didn’t show me how you got there.”
It’s so weird that everything can change in what feels like a second but really it’s all an imperfect culmination of coincidences. Like a viral jump from animal to human and neglectful world leaders. Our understanding of “essential” is changing. But if you are reading this you too turn to art when you’re in pain or in love or wanting to feel at all.
upside down falling through time pretending to stand right side up -- Three poems; a unique heartbeat; refraction; a fall. And an interview with Andrea Gibson.
A tumble from heaven, landmines, bones, synthetic ears, a car horn's long howl, Maryland's pink breath in a mirror—this month we are looking at machines; the interplay between organic experiences within sterile spaces.
In “Juego y Teoría Del Duende,” Federico García Lorca writes: “And so, duende is a power, not an act; a fight, not a thought. I heard an old guitar master say: duende does not dwell in the throat; duende climbs up inside you, from the soles of the feet...”
When I was fifteen a family took me in; they taught me how to cook and garden and the dad gave me books; we spent hours talking about the power of story-telling. They taught me how to practice gratitude when facing hopeless horizons; this isn't easy; this is discipline.
Have you ever had a conversation/experience that makes you feel like you’ve been sucked into a dimension where everything you believe has a question mark?
I often feel overwhelmed and utterly unequipped to deal with my problems; yet, looking back, I can see that I’ve completed many challenges I previously considered insurmountable. I used to struggle to draw stick figures - now, I have Lydia. And like the flowers on her face, I am always growing.
You’re looking at an ultraviolet laser shining through thick printed glass, onto a board covered with phosphorescent pigment. This pigment super-charges the glow and prints the image onto the board, temporarily.
So: The arctic is on fire and the earth has quaked since we last spoke. There’s been death, hope, and devastation.
A year ago my heart broke at dawn; you’ll read about it in this issue, where we explore the theme of survival.
Let’s jump right in. It’s the first day of June; June means pride; pride means squashing secrets. Our very first issue is just about that—secrets.