Dear Fellow Readers and Writers,
Earlier this spring, I was invited to participate in a Parallel Listening event. For twenty minutes, I read my poetry as a sound artist built out a musical landscape behind me in real-time. It was a unique and strange reading, and it all hinged on listening.
Like most of us, I hear things all day: motorcycles revving up my city block, countless ads trying to sell me things I don’t need, my dog pawing at his metal water bowl when it’s empty, social media posts of people pleading for help because any number of systems have failed them. The list is endless. But listening…that is harder to do. It is also crucial.
At this recent reading, the musician listened to my words as I listened to their synthesized crashes and waves, and the crowd listened to all of it—and slowly, an intense sense of responsibility fell over the room, along with the questions: How do we show up? How do we listen, adapt, and listen some more?
These are the questions I bring to Issue 11.1. My hope is that we each come with a commitment to listen and learn with and from these words. These pieces enable us to sit with a political prisoner in their cell, whisper grief and gratitude to a passing animal, come of age in a sticky, Coney Island summer, and so much more if only we are willing to bring our whole selves to the page and let those selves be changed. In that way, I believe literature, art, and creativity will fortify us in the face of such heavy times.
Thank you for being on this journey with us, and happy reading.
– Chelsea
Co-Editor, The Maine Review
