Issue #47

The art of Malin Abrahamsson combines clay, metal, plastic – even wool and other fabrics – in surprising ways. Some of her pieces seem to drip into space; others appear bound together by string, thread, or ribbon. Called the “Spaceholder” series, they conjure thoughts of the moments between, the time spent waiting. What bubbles up in those gaps?

Our poet for Issue #47, Nadia Alexis, brings us deep into the push and pull of relationships. There’s simmering violence, anger, a sense of undoing. There’s also a deep-seated strength of will, a steady and wise presence that rises above. Says poetry co-editor Kelsi Long of one of Alexis’ poems: “’Language’ is stunning – I just want to sit with it and watch it unfold over and over again. It’s labyrinthine in its language and strange in its beauty.”

“Song for No One’s Backyard,” by Steven Moore, traces the evolution of his life through the jobs he held and the people he met along the way. His writing speaks to deeper questions: What holds a community together? What tears it apart? What’s the meaning of work in our lives, especially post-Great Recession, when many jobs are increasingly transitory and transactional? Reader Steve Lausier articulates what drew our team to Moore’s work: “Beautifully done. The rhythm of the piece especially impressed me -the exposition paints its scenes with skill, and the repetition felt like it was bringing me back to a space of coffee house intimacy with the speaker.”

Issue #47’s fiction author, Shane Inman, tells a story of home, friendship, and grief. Animating the story is an absence that’s felt in the haunting language, the almost dream-like passages, the memories woven into the narrative. Together, he tells a compelling and unique story while evoking feelings that are universally human.

Thanks for reading Mud Season!

Erin Post, managing editor