On Issue 2: Growth.
Dear reader,
Welcome to Chewing Dirt. Or, if you are returning, welcome back! We are so pleased that you have returned for more.
Chewing Dirt, a lofty dream for quite awhile, has evolved substantially since I last wrote to you. You are to thank. On February 17th, 2021, Amani and I were in a state of disbelief. Our inbox was flooded with submissions, questions, and endless support. We had only two submissions after nearly a month of submissions being open. Two days later, we had to close our submissions for the second issue, as we had filled up all of our slots. Never could I have imagined that it would only take two issues to have as much of an outreach as we did. We received 100 submissions from 65+ different writers, from the United to States to the UK to Canada to Portugal, and we can't wait to hear from even more of you in future issues.
It is fair to say that we picked the perfect theme for this issue: Growth.
This issue features so many wonderful pieces from artists like Nura Parikh, Brynn Lemons, JC Buuck and countless others.
In her piece, Rotating Brain, Abby Knudsen discusses the relationship between sexuality and religion. She expresses her journey towards self-acceptance, and weighs the impact of religion on her life. AJ Thorpe writes about growing up faster than a loved one in their poem, SERPENTINE. When they write, "i am twenty, and you are fifteen. / i spill into laughter with friends you refuse to meet; / you spill your eighth drink on your bedsheets" we learn the difference between growth and aging, and how it looks from the outside looking in. Similarly, Rory Maguire discusses about growing up queer, and the pressure to mature too early. Both Catarina Isabel and Carlee Kessler write about the comfort, lost or re-found, of a mother. Catarina Isabel explores the reality of losing what we once could have been, the inability to return to a life that never truly exists. She writes, "My mother's womb is a catacomb / For all my ungrown selves; / They live in a faraway home / Blind to what I've become". She recalls the how young she was when she first heard the high expectations her mother held, and mourns the loss of choice in regards to her future. Kessler, however, writes "it made me realize-- she can tell when things grow cold", delving into the sixth sense a mother has when it comes to her children, and writes of the desire she has to care for her mother the way she had been cared for.
These pieces are fresh and blooming, and representative of the growth our writers have undergone as artists, and as physical beings as well. I encourage you now to go lend an ear, and find yourself in the spaces between their words.
With love and gratitude,
Amelia Tuerk (she/her)
Founder and Executive Editor
Welcome to Chewing Dirt. Or, if you are returning, welcome back! We are so pleased that you have returned for more.
Chewing Dirt, a lofty dream for quite awhile, has evolved substantially since I last wrote to you. You are to thank. On February 17th, 2021, Amani and I were in a state of disbelief. Our inbox was flooded with submissions, questions, and endless support. We had only two submissions after nearly a month of submissions being open. Two days later, we had to close our submissions for the second issue, as we had filled up all of our slots. Never could I have imagined that it would only take two issues to have as much of an outreach as we did. We received 100 submissions from 65+ different writers, from the United to States to the UK to Canada to Portugal, and we can't wait to hear from even more of you in future issues.
It is fair to say that we picked the perfect theme for this issue: Growth.
This issue features so many wonderful pieces from artists like Nura Parikh, Brynn Lemons, JC Buuck and countless others.
In her piece, Rotating Brain, Abby Knudsen discusses the relationship between sexuality and religion. She expresses her journey towards self-acceptance, and weighs the impact of religion on her life. AJ Thorpe writes about growing up faster than a loved one in their poem, SERPENTINE. When they write, "i am twenty, and you are fifteen. / i spill into laughter with friends you refuse to meet; / you spill your eighth drink on your bedsheets" we learn the difference between growth and aging, and how it looks from the outside looking in. Similarly, Rory Maguire discusses about growing up queer, and the pressure to mature too early. Both Catarina Isabel and Carlee Kessler write about the comfort, lost or re-found, of a mother. Catarina Isabel explores the reality of losing what we once could have been, the inability to return to a life that never truly exists. She writes, "My mother's womb is a catacomb / For all my ungrown selves; / They live in a faraway home / Blind to what I've become". She recalls the how young she was when she first heard the high expectations her mother held, and mourns the loss of choice in regards to her future. Kessler, however, writes "it made me realize-- she can tell when things grow cold", delving into the sixth sense a mother has when it comes to her children, and writes of the desire she has to care for her mother the way she had been cared for.
These pieces are fresh and blooming, and representative of the growth our writers have undergone as artists, and as physical beings as well. I encourage you now to go lend an ear, and find yourself in the spaces between their words.
With love and gratitude,
Amelia Tuerk (she/her)
Founder and Executive Editor