Surprising how much of it is song. Much is lyric. Under that, admonition, calling yourself names before someone does. Open question who someone else consists of. Thinking how often it all ends in a dangling participle. Why is it bad. Or, to put it another way, what does this world consist of. Manufactured conversations. Some historical. Some have been going longer than the longest relationships. Not so much back and forth as back and back. A disappearance. Formless memory that can’t remember the color of a wall for the love of God. Visual memory is poor and has always been poor and may be a form of cowardice. A dearth of past decisive actions and then one appears. It’s breath taking. Mulling the lyric. Acting like a passenger. The incurably solitary and the necessity of strangers. Someone walking by lost in thought. Someone found in it.
MERRIDAWN DUCKLER is a writer from Oregon with time spent in Tillamook, Oregon, home of the Mooks. She wrote an oratorio based on board meeting minutes. Her most recent book is MISSPENT YOUTH (rinky dink press). New work in Seneca Review, Interim, Posit, Plume, Painted Bride Quarterly. Winner of the 2021 Beulah Rose Poetry Contest from Smartish Pace. She’s an editor at Narrative and the philosophy journal Evental Aesthetics. Twitter: @MerridawnD Instagram: @merridawnduckler
DANZHU HU is an award-winning visual storyteller, currently specializing in illustration and fine art painting. After graduating with a B.E. degree, she received her master’s degree at the Fashion Institute of Technology, MFA Illustration program. Hu loves exploring the infinite possibilities of visual storytelling by experimenting with different media. For her, it’s all about playfulness. Her work is whimsical yet vulnerable, playful yet melancholic, with a touch of symbolism. Through her practice, Hu wishes to create a world where the most cryptic, subtle, and complicated emotions can be captured, translated, and cherished.
