Letter from the Editors: (dis)comfort
Dear Beloved Readers,
Comfort can be found in the most mundane of scenes, like the first fall of snow or the reflection of a glimmering pool. Yet these scenes do not remain undisturbed. There is the inevitable crunch of footsteps carving a path through the ice and the rippling effect of a stone launched into the water. This disruption is discomforting. A jolting uncertainty that there are boundaries broken and norms upended. But discomfort overlays new imagery onto old ones. A shattered glass photo becomes a motion-picture of memory. Colors you have never seen fill in the lines and paint over everything you hope to forget.
For our fifth issue of Volume III, (dis)comfort, we invite you to delve into what strikes the balance between comfort and discomfort in your own minds. What prickles at the edges of your senses, or make you take a second glance over your shoulder?
Introducing our issue is Katherine Shi’s art, blowing through a snow covered Chinatown street as you feel the unnerving shiver of what was once there. In Bhavya’s piece “Texts to/at/for/from Home,” she conveys the discomfort of being within a house you once called home, a visitor who nevers stays. This feeling of impermanence is embodied by the art of Justina Lu. Balanced between i and You, Cayla Celis’ poem “peeking through the cracks” traverses how the relationship between families can be both comforting and suffocating, as visualized by art from Livs Sun.
In her piece, “made to last a lifetime,” Aliza Susatijo uses the tactility of knitting to manifest love and loss intertwined in a single sweater, accompanied by art from Mariam Seshan.
Avery Carlson approaches the uncertainty and self-doubt of a winter day in her guiding listicle, “HOW TO DRIVE IN THE SNOW (and what to do if you can’t).” Embodying this piece is art by Sneha Lakamsani, who draws on the personal fear melting into your surroundings. Beyond the uncertainty of personal abilities, there is the discomfort between who you were and who you are. Scarlet M. looks to religion as equal parts anxiety and resolution of the self in her piece “An Agnostic’s Evening Prayer.” Art by Yi Cheng gives insight to the self-inflicted inner turmoil of Scarlet’s piece.
With art from Gloria Sung, Sana F.’s “An Ocean Between This Kimono and Me” crosses the seas of time, as she inhabits memories of her mother’s own coming-of-age celebration (seijinshiki) in Japan. Anagha Chundury’s “Notes on my Grandmother” also explores intimacies across generations as she navigates through loss and grief. Her work is complemented by Lanie Myaing’s evocative art. Diana Zhang’s poem “Waves,” with art from Ananya Sairaman, closes our issue, expressing both a yearning for a motherland and (be)longing.
We would like to thank our wonderful staff, who make {in}Visible what it is today. To all of our writers and artists, thank you for continuously contributing your best work to each issue. A special thanks to our editorial board–Mariam, Ananya, Sana, and Sarayu. If {in}Visible were a ship, you are the wind in our sails, invigorating us and guiding us towards land.
As always, a special thanks to our readers. Despite all of the discomfort in the world, we hope that {in}Visible always remains a respite from uncertainty and anxiety.
All Our Best,
Aliza and Jasmine
