Dear friends,

Much of life is going from here to there, and much of it is going back to here. From the bed to the world and back to the bed. From the hometown to the college town to the Big City, back to the hometown maybe, to start the cycle anew. From the motherland to the new world and back to the motherland.

Many choices are merely the illusions of choices. We are trains on tracks, made to believe we are wild horses. But our wildness is a feeling, and not a trait. We are sheep in shepherd clothes. When we hike we hike on trails, but when we stray from them there are trails there, too. All ground has been previously trodden. Trust, trust. There are lines we cannot cross, and then there are the lines we do not see and do not cross. 

Grazing in what I hope are green pastures,

Sasha Rotko, EIC