Issue #53

Sometimes in the darkest months the light is most evident. Perhaps it is the contrast of the light against the dark. The stars flash and burn. Jupiter and Saturn align. And it is in the darkest months that the arts stun us with their clarity. In Blake Johnson’s fiction piece Revelation we are moved from darkness into light; whether this light is human connection, hope, or a glimpse of something beyond, we are warmed by its promise. As Brendan Wolfe writes at the close of his creative non fiction story Linie Aquavit, “Something invisible and dark and heavy began, finally, to lift,” and again we are brightened by promise. In “psalm in praise of wanting” Nigerian poet Ernest O. Ògúnyẹmí reminds us of the hope that springs from our deepest hungers, “so that each, by magic or mercy, will bloom into a city of wings.” Light wakens us in each of the collages by Andrea Lewicki, and seemingly bursts from the images. Willy Conley’s Digital Photography Anchored at Harbor literally warms us with its lamplight. Edward Lee’s Digital Painting (Un)fallen compels us to remember the soft light that lies behind, offering its comfort. Bill O’Brien’s technical India ink drawing, Tree, shows us the contrast of black on white, reminding us of the connectedness of all things that grow toward the light. With the darkest evening behind us and a heartening light at the end of the pandemic tunnel, we wish you comfort. To quote Maya Angelou, “Nothing can dim the light that shines from within.”

All the best to you this season,

Elaine and Grier