Peruse Zine. Dieser Artikel ist nicht verfügbar.Peruse Zine

‘Peruse’ is a contronym, containing conflicting definitions within its two syllables that force your lips into an unavoidable pucker at the end (go ahead, try not to).

Both definitions have cohabitated within the English language for centuries. You can pick up a magazine and flip through its pages, looking for something you can’t name, finding words you didn’t know you wanted to hear. You can sit with it for a while, perusing each page with intense focus to find the common thread among them. Or you can rest somewhere in the middle.

Peruse Zine was created as a deliberate act to slow down and appreciate what sometimes goes unnoticed due to the hurried pace of our modern world. Stories, poetry and art from contributors gathered together, pondering one gerund that describes our humanity.

Why did we decide ‘Unravelling’ would be a choice theme for the second issue of our new magazine? It was a question that kept popping up when reading through the finalist submissions in rapt engrossment tinged with a fair amount of agitation. After the enthusiastic ‘Beginnings’ issue, did we really need to remind everyone that all could fall apart without notice?

After the first blush of a new venture fades, the hard work begins. This issue recognises those moments that the small voice of uncertainty shouts what have I done? in the wee
hours of night. Whether the voice can be shushed or takes over is another consideration. Some of the voices over these pages let themselves unfurl past the pain literally or metaphorically dripping from their fingertips as they move into an unknown future. Many are at the end of their rope, gripping the frayed ends but knowing that they can only hold on for so long. They all feel a little more than misunderstood – it can be a lonely place, knowing what previously !t has burst the confines of the old version of oneself.

It can also be redemptive, choosing to prioritise one’s own experience over the need to keep a good face on for the world. Sometimes things aren’t perfect, and they aren’t really supposed to be. Here’s to hoping we can figure it out sooner than Mark in ‘Roses are Red,’ who fails to see the point at all.

Edited by Nel Herche, and Mya Brown, Elisabeth Connell, Lauren Jones, Nupur Lakhe, Sheyna ZL

Contents:

Featured
Back to Origin – Digital Art by Koro
Before My Worries; A Minute; I Live Now Like a Window; Disturbances; Poverty of Laughter – Poetry by Barbara E. Hunt
A Changeling Casebook – Novel excerpt by Lauren Jones
The Shipment – A One-Act play by John Xavier

Art
Waterbuck – Photography by Vincenzo Cohen
Untitled – Watercolour by Richard Hanus
Firefly Lamp – Digital watercolour by Yen Ooi

Poetry
G(u)ilt-Edged by Val I. Vanderburgh
Rescue; Tarnished; After Night Rounds by Christine Jackson
Laura; Stream by Robert Beveridge
Abecedarian: Wistful Warrior Shelley Ann Beattie by LindaAnn LoSchiavo
Edward Hopper Foster Care by Gerard Sarnat
Look at All Those Chickens by Richard Saint
What We Cherish by Tim Thornburgh
My Life as a Locust Tree by Jean Janicke

Nonfiction
Wet Sunday by Yuan Changming
Say What? by Joyce Loh

Fiction
Roses are Red by Donald Reed Greenwood
Earth's Purgatory by K. McGlashan
Firefly Lamp by Yen Ooi
Boris and Maureen by Krista Puttler
Two Spoons by Daniel Quinn
Slice by Sheyna ZL
The Quality of an Instant by Barys Paulau