may 2019 | a face full of feathers

fiction | hannah canjandig-taylor | a planet of pams

Women named Pam wear gingham aprons and bake zucchini banana bread; watch PBS documentaries about The Voyager Expedition on the PBS channel and take note of the narrator’s commentary—that we can only really explore a solar system for the first time once. These women stuff their heads with the idea of aluminum planets; feed their brains a white-rum cocktail of science and curiosity.

Fiction

Redwood | Joseph Thwaites

A Planet of Pams | Hannah Cajandig-Taylor

Love | Snack Mix | Self-Doubt | Chainmail | Eagles, Baby!

I've never written an artist's statement. I didn't even fully know what it was until I Googled it. By the way, in case you're like me: "An artist's statement (or artist statement) is an artist's written description of their work. The brief verbal representation is for, and in support of, his or her own work to give the viewer understanding" - Wikipedia.

I've always described my stuff as "from the gut." I don't think it's better or worse than more refined art, it's just how I do it. I try to edit as little as possible because I'm often attracted to art that feels a little under-cooked, a little bloody. Maybe you're too lazy to send it back for another round on the skillet and you take a bite and the blood runs down your chin and you enjoy it, or maybe you get pissed off and leave the restaurant. Me? I like a little blood. That might be why I was so attracted to the urgency of punk and hardcore as a kid. I don't know what I'm even typing anymore. Cut me some slack, this is my first artist's statement.

I make art for myself and for others. I am part of the world. We are part of the world. You sort of lose the art after it's released. It belongs to everybody. A drop in the ocean. Its meaning can become stretched and warped, and maybe somehow it's better that way. But I've been paid for art before and I've also been blatantly ripped off twice and it made me annoyed, so this "belongs to everybody" stuff is possibly all bullshit. Though I do think there's some truth in there somewhere. If you find it, let me know.

Do the best you can with what you've got, even when what you've got is just enough energy to draw a damn stick figure. Make it the best stick figure your current self is able to make. If there even is a self. Also, email me your stick figure drawings.

My future artist's statements, if there are any, will probably be better than this, but this is the best my current self/not self can do.

Enjoy.

poetry | a.m. walsh | rugby

of old boys in mud smeared uniform
fading with the dissipating crowd
into distant dreams.

Poetry

Guide to a Happy Life | S.C. Cline

In Which I Compare a Salesman to the Roads I Did Not Travel | Beth Gordon

Ingredients | Donna Dallas

Restless | Lauren Saxon

Rugby | A.M. Walsh

Parasomnias | Jakob Ryce

Arc of the Meridian | Jakob Ryce

I Shot the Poet | José del Valle

ESSAYS | michail mulvey | food wars

Like most kids, when served something different, my usual knee-jerk reaction was, "I don't like it." And, as usual, my mother's knee-jerk response was, "How do you know you don't like it? You haven't even tried it!"

Food Wars | Michail Mulvey

Master of None: “Buona Notte”

film | laura valeri | What Fox's Narrative Structure Can Teach Us About Writing True Stories

“What the movie gave me beyond that is a new way to think about writing and structuring narratives, particularly when the power of a story lies so exclusively within the character's inner struggle. The power of the realizations Jennifer experiences is inextricable from the imaginary and real-life interviews that bridge past perception with present understanding. They are invaluable means of expressing what often feels inexpressible.”