I find myself philosophizing at my keyboard, staring at the bright pink, clicky keys and pondering whether or not there are universal experiences for every person on the planet. To this, I would say yes; there are a few, but the one that weighs heaviest on my mind currently is the concept of loss. I believe we’ve all experienced that. Whether it's the loss of a toxic best friend, in which case, good riddance, the loss of a material object that may ore may not have had significant value to you, or maybe it’s the loss of someone special, someone close to you.

I, too, have experienced loss, but this is my first time with its constituents. After the recent death of my Uncle Denny, my biggest supporter, I was quickly introduced to grief. Its constituents, sadness and anger, followed shortly after and moved in. Now—I’m not sure. I feel absent. I find myself writing about him often, and it comforts me. It brings me the sense of safety and warmth he once did. His voice echoes around in my head asking me when the next magazine will come out with my name in it. I don’t have the heart to answer him because I won’t see it in his hands.

Even without my new metaphorical roommates, brought in by loss, life is hard. It tends to beat you down, and it can be merciless. But there’s usually a dichotomy at play when you step back and look at everything happening to you. There’s the awful, then there’s the spectacular. There’s the chaotic, then there’s the calm. There’s a peace to be had climbing a mountain.

I look through our submissions, and I see positivity and negativity; I see the dichotomy of life in brushstrokes and line breaks. There’s a beautiful complexity that shows humanity’s drive to create. It’s astounding. So much so that my roommates leave for a night or two.

It’s actually kind of hilarious when you think about it. Here we are, a group of over-evolved mammals who decided that walking on four legs wasn’t good enough, building large concrete structures and paying taxes and loving one another despite the fragility of life, all while hurtling through space at ridiculous speeds that could make a comet blush on a giant rock. We fight wars and break bread and live and die on this planet, each second precious even in the grand scheme of things… and yet, we create.

We do this for reasons that are our own. I’m not a philosopher, and I’m not here to explain why. We just do. And I think that’s beautiful. Amidst loss, in the trenches of anger and hate, we can meet in the middle, in No Man’s Land, and we can create a magazine full of love, passion, and talent. We create a community through ink, paint, and pixels.

Even steeped in loss, with new emotional roommates that might not leave for a few months or so, I consider myself lucky. Very lucky. Such is the dichotomy of a human life. Such is the dichotomy of being a human being, you and I included.

This one’s for you, Uncle Denny, and for anyone who knows what it’s like to lose anyone as spectacular as you.

With so much love,

Marisa Bennett
Editor-in-Chief ‘25

Contents

A Letter from Marisa’s Desk