A Letter from Marisa’s Desk

To be a part of this journey that I love so much is a joy that I will have to remain on the sidelines for in the future, but that’s more than okay with me. Through our contributors and our lovely staff, Brainchild will endure and shine a light on those who feel isolated, vengeful, even satisfied. To know the larger world of art and understand it, mold myself to it, cry and laugh with it—even if tomorrow never comes, I will have lived.

In this year’s edition of Brainchild, I am overjoyed to share the dichotomies of life, the slow, steady heartbeat of uncertainty, and the originality of human experience. Within these pages, there is abstraction of the self, isolation, inner apocalypses, and the interconnection of satisfaction and dissatisfaction. “So Very Much” will show you the unnatural housed inside something real and tangible, as will “Frankenstein is the Doctor.” Abstraction melds with darkness, and grief melts to dissociation. “Spill My Guts” and “After Ana Mendieta” will make you uncomfortable—steep you in the ambiguity and depth of the female form, of death, and of life—and force you to confront restless thoughts directly.

“Bedlam and Strife” and “A Post-Autumnal Observation” highlight the beauty of the world around us and place it center stage. The sweetness of life is captured in freeze-frame moments where we remember to observe our surroundings—when we remember to take it slow amidst the chaos of change and the steady ticking of the clock. “The Bearer” depicts the discontent within oneself, the death of personhood, and “DEVOUR” will remind you to rage. Each piece will do something different, yet they will all continue the story until we reach a conclusion. It may not be the one we wanted or expected—a natural finale we can never outrun.

If being a senior has taught me anything, it’s that the end of an era comes quickly—relentless in its approach. Each day that passes is another day I will never get back; I will never again sink my feet into the soil of yesterday, and yesterday will eventually forget that I stood anywhere.

Through all of this, it is important to remember that the end of something does not mean the end of you. A version of you, a part of you, maybe, but you will still exist tomorrow. 

I invite whoever you are today to live unapologetically amidst uncertainty.