Dear Beloved Readers,
Happy fall from us to you! In Issue II of Volume V, we have asked for a reflection on decomposition.
As the leaves change colors and the grass turns brittle yellow, we ask you: how do you view decomposition? Scientifically, it is a process that breaks down organic matter and inorganic matter. But it can also be a piece of art that has been chipped away at by time, or a book of moth-eaten pages. Does the art still exist in this word outside of its physical form? When the living returns to the soil, do we view it as a process to the end, or the rebirth of something new? Is everything that we are made of ever truly ours?
In “The shelf-life of a dream”, Zoha Suteria brings golden hopes and decaying fruit within yourself into view through visceral imagery. She reminds us of that warm dream that we keep up and away from us, and paints an image of regret turning into an unraveling poison. The intensity of the poem is perfectly shown by Ananya Sairaman’s black and white print of that hypothetical life bursting outwards from the chest.
After looking towards the future, we are brought back to the past in Claire Peng’s “abscission”, where we are plunged into a humid night followed by a diffusion into the speaker’s childhood. The memories are as fleeting as the season, and we think of family in bits and pieces. Paired with this story is a wonderful collage made by Anniston Li that captures her young self melting like candy on the tongue.
Memories continue on in this issue as we reach “Back to You” by Jasmine Palomino. We feel that complicated rush of remembering what was love, what was annoyance, and what the reunion will be like when it happens. Granular details and glimpses of a life lived together brings us into the speaker for this piece of short prose. Alongside this is Eileen Nguyen’s piercing illustration of a body being returned to nature and seeing that something is always left behind. We are immortalized.
Love can last beyond death, as we see in Evan Thorn’s “DONE APART”, even if it’s to the detriment of the relationship. We follow a reanimated man along the prairie, chasing family, unable to let go of his life. The tactile descriptions and sharp terror make us wonder what it means to lose your humanity. Being that one the most distinct characteristics of a person is their face, Claire Zhang presents a person’s face in triplicate: vibrant, abstract, and everything all at once.
We stay in nature, in the prairie, with Elena Liu’s “Remembering Lover”. Lover is, and was, everything good, and lush imagery takes into the world that he so cherished. Hope and Lover are intertwined and we are asked to contemplate the end of life throughout this short story. As Lover’s body was put to rest, Riese Carlson’s illustration of the body separating into its many layers sits beside it. We see the body broken down into the simplest forms.
Next, we are pushed beyond man-kind and are made to consider what truly makes us different from metal in “How to Disappear” by Saanvi Sadu. Years into the future, an android returns to Earth, and we read through ones and zeros to see the soul of a machine. Sarah Jun’s humorous illustration of the robot on this dark blue Earth accompanies the piece.
We end this issue with Mia Kang’s illustration of vivid, colorful flowers and birds sprouting outside of the head. She connects physical decomposition to the mental change that we experience as people, a feeling that we may be reminded of during this fall season.
We would like to thank our editorial board: Ananya, Sneha, Sarah, Liah, Pauline, and Tim for all of their hard work in supporting our staff throughout this issue. As we near the winter, we ask you to take a moment and look in, out, and around yourself for decomposition. Please enjoy the beautiful issue made by our {in}Visible staff, and we look forward to speaking to you for the next!
All of our love,
Jenny Vu and Diana Zhang
