Dear Friends and Readers,
Another semester comes to an end. 2024 is coming to a close, and before we know it the new year will have unfolded in front of us. New people, new places, new opportunities, new dreams. Every time we look back we’ll be surprised how fast the time has passed and how slow it’s moved all at once.
Sometimes starting new is conflated to starting over, and starting over is a scary thing to most people. But once you do it often enough, those new beginnings turn from something scary and unknowable to something exhilarating and unknowable.
This season has been one full of new beginnings, and when I look forward, I only see more.
Some of the earliest signs of human civilization include paintings on cave walls and markings carved into rock or bone. Despite essentially hitting the human reboot button time and time again, the presence of art and creation has been one that’s followed us for centuries. It’s the spirit of those who were here before us that follow us through the years, the strings from old words and art that tie us together.
As you dive into this new volume — the one that took so much time and effort from our editors, contributing writers, and far more hours in the GM office than any rational person would deem necessary — I encourage you to take something from these pieces with you when you leave. Carry it with you. Use a word or a line or an image as a guide in your search for that new thing. Lean on the art you consume. Absorb it.
I want to sincerely thank everyone who dedicated their time to making this issue happen: the writers, the artists, the poets, the staff and board members, the UH English department, the wonderful team of upper and associate editors, and especially you, dear reader. Without a single one of you, this magazine would not be what it is today.
With all my love,
Leontine Coombs
Editor, Glass Mountain