Memories may fade as distance grows wider between ourselves and our young selves, but one thing remains constant: if we dig down deep into the recesses of our experiences, hold light up to the seeds of our current moment, brush off the dust, we might find something worth writing about.
In the succeeding entries, we telescope “faith,” a word with a variety of connotations. Join us in considering “faith,” its soaring capacities, and its particular and personal ones.
“In any case, it is left up to the viewer to not get too lost in the dazzling visual spectacle of the film, and be sure to consider that despite the immaculate attention to detail, some details might still have been rendered invisible.”
Coming from New Jersey, where my home and parents are only an easy hour and a half drive away, my transition to college was easier than most—at least in theory.
We asked our stable of unstable writers to reflect on fear — personal, conceptual, metaphysical. They started with 300 words and narrowed focus and word count, by halves.
“We always did the same things every day: we went into the toy store and rearranged all the Rubik’s Cubes. We went into the library and looked at the medical encyclopedias or biographies of old ugly white guys in wigs.”
