On the first spring day returning to my sophmore year of college I recieved a call from Eric that the body of our friend, Avriel, was found at the base of a bridge back in Philly. Eric and Av were the tightest of buddies. Really, really close. Eric had been digging literal holes in the earth that night before reaching out to tell me the news. Eerily, I had composed a poem on the car ride back to Kenyon that previous day, and the words from that page echoed into song: "Fathe

Waking from my dreams, I remember having been a night moth. Sister to the moon, deep purple and shimmery. This wasn't the dream but the feeling of who I've been in these liminal spaces. On my wrist there's a burn I received from a cast iron frying pan. For days it's been a light fleshy pink color; open, fresh, & stinging. My niece pulled a leaf from her aloe vera last night. After applying the juice the wound sealed up, immediately revealing a deep dark purple. "This is me,"

You couldn't have found me even if you had wanted to find me. I wasn't your's to find, so you can absolve yourself from the guilt of it before this story begins. I was in a holler, situated inside of another holler. The Anglin Falls trailhead at the end of this narrow & winding road was a destination for tourists and locals, alike. She brought her hikers to a majestic waterfall; (Anglin Falls); an aorta flowing from the veins of spring-fed creeks, keeping the vital forest

with a beak at a typewrighter ink dipped pecking out letters for words; words can be grouped to hide meaning, to manipulate and twist truths until they are straight. Sometime, though, bird is well skilled at peeling back the fleshy onion to reveal its layers... Bird moves close to me, hopping around the desk or jumping onto my head becoming jumbled in its hairs. We rest together, have done a lot of dreaming together. It may surprise that I have never given him the full set

R.O.U.T.E. is an acronym. The words represented by each letter make up the sections of the publication. Rhythm, Observation, Understanding, Transformation, & Expression. I imagine each word as a portal, or a journey for artist and witness: an umbrella of perception and its mirror image: the planter for an emergent garden. The words and the symbol came first, then the idea for a publication. My early goals were to create an object; nothing to rival the internet, but tactiley p