Vol. 4, Issue 1

For Issue 1 of Volume 4, our Founding Editor, Steve McCondichie, has contributed an essay that delves into the many different pains we have all experienced this year and how we might move on from 2020.

Two art pieces–a triptych by C. Christine Fair and a collage from C. R. Resetarits–stare unblinkingly at the virus and its consequences, how we dare to hope for a brighter future.

Two poems by Mary Helen Callier highlight personal struggles in an isolated world.

And lastly, Laura Ohlmann’s poem considers a community at odds, a feeling of isolation even within relationships, and, finally, the emblematic resiliency of nature.

Easing Restrictions | Visual Art

Easing Restrictions | Visual Art

Easing Restrictions I like the edge of things. Edge as in poignant and slightly threatening and edge as in interconnection. I like things that already exist. It’s not just about my ecological stance and the future but about mystery and the past. This piece,...
Making Amends to 2020 | Nonfiction

Making Amends to 2020 | Nonfiction

“No one knows what karma awaits us, But what we sow now will be reaped in lives to come; that is certain. So be kind to one and all And don’t be biased, Based upon illusions regarding gain and loss.” “The Mani Man” from The Snow...
COVID Lungs: A Trilogy | Visual Art

COVID Lungs: A Trilogy | Visual Art

COVID Lungs: A Trilogy The first image, COVID 1, depicts the brewing storm driven by the wet-markets in China where trafficked animals are kept in conditions of bio-insecurity which were (and remain) ripe for zoonotic events. It depicts the warning by scientists from...
Two Poems | Poetry

Two Poems | Poetry

Letting what you held slip back into the water There is an art to everything. To letting the line drag out, to the extra moment given before the hook is set. To how one learns, eventually, to watch the light and not indulge the urge to name it. Eventually I will get...
The EZ Trail | Poetry

The EZ Trail | Poetry

The EZ Trail . In the desert, it doesn’t take much for us to begin to hate each other. The 100 degrees, the lit magazine rejection, the AC clunking along like a loose chain on a bicycle. The tension rises. It falls. The red in my cheeks bloom like the sharp...