The Liminality of Mr. Movies by Jamie Hudalla
It smells like damp popcorn inside and a chunky TV tilts off the left wall
An Obituary for the Land by Kateri Kramer
For months now, when I walk down to my car in the early mornings, it is coated in a thin blanket of ash
Three Poems by Steve Lang
As, scrabbling tragically he slides / Into breathless air, so thin, to land / With an unechoed thud, instant husk,
Photographs by Silven Liu
The extreme cold and the snow on the highway nearly killed us, but we were lucky to see beautiful things that many people have never seen.
Three Poems by Mercedes Lawry
Everyone was hungry. Everyone / pulled their arms and legs tight against / themselves, feeble cocoons.
Poetry by Christopher Linforth
What can I offer this strange creature whose / slowed heartbeat is the opposite of mine?
Photographs by Matthew McGlennen
I love the ambiguity of unravel - it can represent destruction, just as it can represent cleansing. It can speak to the unrelenting forces beyond our control, or the simple, deliberate act of undoing.
Photographs by Courtney Rile
On the shoreline, there is a constant battle for sovereignty. These images explore the effects of Hurricane Sandy and reconstruction efforts within the landscape over time.
Fireworks on the Moon by Kristina Saccone
The moon was an achievement for all of us. It was also a dimly lit, grey place, where revelry was what we made of it.
Poetry by Tracy Sallows
Belongings dispersed and distributed / Are treasures in some other troves