Volume 3, Issue i
Wild Greens 3, no. 01 (November 2022)
Welcome to the November 2022 issue of Wild Greens
This month, we asked you about finding your groove. We here at Wild Greens have certainly found ours, as this edition also celebrates our two year anniversary! We have anniversary treats and surprises coming throughout the month, starting inside this issue with a conversation with the founders of Wild Greens magazine, Rebecca Lipperini (me) and Hayley Boyle. We also have another very special announcement coming this weekend…any predictions?
Madi Morelli’s poem, “Across Cheap Gold Floors” sets the groove with a scene of trust, safety, and familiarity. Finding inspiration in the things our parents say to us, Melissa Lomax’s acrylic on wood “Be Anything” invites us to step into and own our sense of selves.
“Fluidity” by Jessica Donahue explores healing through fluidity and movement. In Myra Chappius’s eagerly-anticipated third installment of “Lost and Found,” Jo follows her intuition to Arizona, letting time pass patiently, giving it space, waiting to meet Ethan. Irina Tall’s drawings in chalk and wax crayon depict a familiar landscape not far from her house.
In Lauren Kimball’s “Beat Bias,” Turtle and Hare try to find their rhythm as bandmates.
In a conversation with the founders of Wild Greens, Lauren Kimball sat down with me and Hayley to talk about the first two years of the magazine and what’s coming next!
“Learning Sunflowers,” a watercolor by Jessica Doble, depicts her first four attempts at a watercolor, showing the way that we change and grow as we practice.
Hannah Chapple’s poem “Furrow and Gouge” takes the grooves of the palm to chart a connection to her grandmother. When writing this poem for Groove, she uncovered a connection to an unfinished draft of a poem about the men in her family and carpentry. That poem, “Sound without Hammer and Anvil is Lost,” is published here as a sister poem. Robin Brownfield’s mosaic “Feelin’ Groovy” sits between the poems. The image of the artist’s son and a sparkling guitar celebrates groove and family.
We end with “New Day” by Melissa Lomax. Melissa used to hand-paint rocks and leave them around her grandmother’s garden. Neighborhood children thought that fairies had visited overnight.
Isn't that just like Wild Greens? We leave marks of our creative selves in unexpected places.
Table of Contents
Wild Greens... Growing Strong!
by Maggie Topel
Across Cheap Gold Floors
by Madi MorelliFour hours in a movement class, exhausted and glowingTwo people at either endMaking a sort of ringing sound.(instructions to follow, blindly)Sit in the middle of the room,And wait to be swayed.
Blindfolded and breathless from the thrill,A leaf encased in amber, patientStill.Perfectly safe. Entirely blind.
Childlike, trusting the hum in the room.Singing in no words, our own little arias.One voice was lilting, arched. Skilled, soaring, and clear.I was terribly tempted. There was beauty,an overpowering sweetness that was seeping into every corner of the room.I swayed, with the net beneath meMy body finding grooves, footholds in the open air
But the voice on the other side of my blindfold was singing, seeing,something older.It was solid. Simpler, drawn out and endless.I recognized. A snowy pathA well-worn indentWhen I wasn’t afraid of quiet. A childhood dog barking when any man over 5 feet came near me.The voice cradled me and made me small.
The old habit carves its way into me like a groove in a cherrywood tableI crawled to the sound of my past, when the noise didn’t scare me either,And then I ran to it.My love has always been dependent on the warm embrace of familiarity.I hadn’t known either voice, even though I should have.But my body knew.
In every round, low constant tones reverberated the stained glass church panesA delicate sweetness promising a guiding handA warm light.
They sounded like songs from movies we loved as children.
That entrenchment of these little loves, Engrained in the fibres.I know what we crawled for.
by Melissa Lomax
acrylic paint on wood
Inspiration: I originally created this piece for a group show where I hand-painted quotes inspired by my parents. As early as I can remember my mom would say, “You CAN BE ANYTHING you want.” Apparently I replied, “I want to be an artist, a ballerina or... a butterfly!” With such a special memory and meaning, I decided this was one of the paintings that wasn't for sale. Instead, it hangs in our art studio as a positive reminder that anything is possible.
by Jessica DonahueGetting back into your groove Requires you to moveFreelyWith fluidity
Space creates the paceAt which you desireTo set your heart on fire
Fear is a liar
In life, we dance Through its rhythm
Take a chance
Feel the rainLet your body moveAccept the pain
What syncopatesOur saving grace
We come to knowWe run OUR show
Fluidity feelsHow we heal
Lost and Found (part 3)
by Myra Chappius
The Arizona air felt so different to Jo— heavier. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was simply the weight on her mind she was feeling. Her anxiousness had grown as the plane barreled closer. She took a taxi to the studio apartment she has secured as a short-term rental. It wasn’t her first choice, but the owner had been the most responsive and flexible. Ethan hadn’t offered her a place to stay (nor had she asked) and that only seemed to further the mystique.
The area was much as she had remembered it – flat, humid, but with a spartan, bare kind of beauty that she found herself drawn to. The lushness of her own hometown was in opposite to the landscape before her, but she found she had an appreciation for both.
Jo responded to texts from Ryan and her children as she rode in the backseat. She hadn’t told the kids about Ethan’s contact; she needed more answers before she’d feel like it was safe to do so. Though they didn’t say it or show it, she knew they had been bothered by their “uncle’s” lack of communication. Jo was starting to feel a bit alone. Not exactly questioning if she should’ve come but starting to wonder if she was sturdy enough to take whatever news there was on her own. She knew that Ryan – God bless him – would come in a heartbeat if she even mentioned it. She’d had to practically wrestle him to stay behind, as it was. But something inside wouldn’t let her saddle the man she loved with yet another burden. He needed no more fuel for his antipathy.
It didn’t take long for Jo to get settled. She was a light packer, and the place was small enough to walk from one end to the other in about three seconds. Still, she situated her belongings carefully, if only just to keep busy, peeking in drawers and cupboards along the way. It was remarkably well-appointed for such a modest space.
Jo sat at the tiny kitchen table sipping coffee from a mug shaped like a cactus. Normally, she wouldn’t have caffeine in the middle of the day, but her nerves had grown so that she kept having to re-read the paragraphs on a single page of the book she had brought. She felt like it was best to wait for Ethan to contact her. He knew when she was arriving and she didn’t want to hound him during a time that must’ve been difficult, or he wouldn’t have been so guarded leading up to her visit. No one had ever accused Jo of being patient; still she wanted to do it right.
So, she waited, through another cup of coffee, through the abandonment of the book in favor of some mindless jewel game on her phone. The kids made fun of her whenever they realized she still played it, but that didn’t stop her from continuing on. You don’t just desert 3000 levels-worth of time spent ignoring life in a quest for the golden pyramid because “the rest of the world has moved on.” Kids these days have no appreciation for hard work, Jo thought to herself.
Finally, as Jo was somehow dozing after all that coffee in the light of a setting sun, her phone pinged. The message from Ethan was brief – an apology for his delay in contacting her and the address of a diner where they could meet for breakfast in the morning. Jo needed only name the time. So, she did, then set a pot of water on the stove to boil. There were two packages of ramen in the cabinet above the fridge, a dish even Jo could make.
Editor's note: Lost and Found will be serialized across six issues. Tune in next month for the fourth installment, and catch up on the first installments if you haven't read them yet.
If you like the issue, you can donate to Wild Greens through our Ko-fi page!
where there is peace
by Irina Tall (Novikova)
chalk, wax crayons, tinted paper
Inspiration: I drew these small works, a little more than a postcard, not far from my house. It is a state of nature where summer embraces autumn: rains and puddles, small plants and overflowing water, plenty of moisture and silence. A groove for me is a backwater where the reflection is a little different from the original, where a little fantasy and fiction is possible. Illusory— something that is gone and lost, a perception of loss, a feeling that can only be sad... but maybe it's peace? I don't know, and I probably won't be able to answer.
If you like the issue, you can donate to Wild Greens through our Ko-fi page!
by Lauren Kimball
Wild Greens is Where We Grow Our Creative Selves: A Conversation with Rebecca Lipperini and Hayley Boyle
by Lauren Kimball
In October 2022, Lauren Kimball, the comic artist behind Turtle and Hare, sat down with Rebecca Lipperini and Hayley Boyle to reflect on the past two years of Wild Greens.
LAUREN: It's really nice to be chatting with you both. Rebecca, I have known you since graduate school. Hayley, I met you through Rebecca in the pre-Wild Greens (WG) days. How did you both meet?
REBECCA: Oh, this is a cute one. Hayley and I grew up across the street from each other.
HAYLEY: Yeah, we've known each other since birth, essentially. I feel like it is pretty rare to have a friendship that is literally your entire life.
L: How did your collaboration on WG begin?
R: It was summer of 2020. And at that time—I think we had toilet paper again, but there was still so much fear and panic. We were still so shut in. I had been watching a lot of friends working on creative projects. There was Lauren’s patio project and Hayley’s embroidered jacket . . .
Initially, Hayley was helping me set up the website. As I was sharing my idea, I remember asking her, Can we showcase your art or like, do you wanna do this with me? I didn’t want to presume that she wanted that level of involvement. I was really grateful because she said, Yes. She said yes to the big role.
H: We got together in person, at a park by my house. Rebecca envisioned this collaborative community project of bringing people together to share art and writing and crafts. I remember being so moved to be asked to participate, especially after living through so much sadness at the beginning of the pandemic. I had something to look forward to. It was wonderful to work with one of my longest and closest friends.
R: Our first issue in November of 2020 was so small, like a mini issue or pilot. Our December issue was the first big one. The theme for that was “Creation During COVID.” We’ve had three issues in total on that theme. We asked people, What are the ways that you turn to creativity to get through fear and uncertainty?
L: How did you come up with the magazine’s name?
H: We wanted it to feel like a garden where people would come and grow their creative selves. The creative process can be so many things: it can be deeply personal, where you’re showing your most vulnerable self, and it can be wacky, where you’re putting it all out there. And in a way, each medium is like a different plant or flower or produce. All of these different things can come together and create this really beautiful community space.
R: So much of WG has been about process over product. We’re trying to be as welcoming as possible with that sort of growth. It’s a mindset of planting seeds and making room for different things to come together.
L: I think of the themes as writing prompts. You’ve created a workshop space.
H: The theme does feel like the roots of each issue. It grounds everybody in a space, makes it feel like everybody's coming together to grow something, even though they don't know that when they're submitting their pieces. They don't know that their piece is gonna connect to somebody else's painting or poetry or prose. And yet, somehow, it all ends up kind of weaving together.
L: Did you look at any magazines as models as you were dreaming up WG?
R: I was browsing online poetry magazines for website design. I wanted to see, What do they look like? How do they present themselves? We considered a lot of ideas when it came to formatting.
I felt confident that I wanted it to be a single scroll, which a lot of people don't use, for a lot of reasons. The internet is organized by hyperlinks. But I liked the idea of having it be one reading experience. I wanted WG to feel like you could stumble across something you weren’t expecting.
H: We wanted to make it a full experience. Like, my mom's not gonna come to the magazine only to see my cover. In fact, I did just have a phone call with my mom where she said, “Oh, no, I read everything.” And sometimes she goes back to people's work because she’s so moved by it. She uses our archive. Okay, so, that's my mom. But that’s pretty special, right? And it’s not like somebody is coming to our space because they know a specific artist beyond a relative or a friend. But they keep coming back because they feel like it is a special experience.
L: What’s your favorite theme so far? The one that just tickled me to death was “Snack Time.” It made me laugh.
H: That is probably one of my top three. I really fell in love with our recent theme, “Mediocrity.” I felt super invested in the idea of “Mediocrity” at the time, because I'd been feeling a lot of pressure to keep achieving, keep being better, keep going up the professional ladder. I remember saying to Becca, “I just want to be mediocre.” I don't want to keep doing more all the time. That kept coming up as a theme in my life, so being able to make it a theme for the magazine meant a lot to me. I was terrified that nobody was gonna submit. I kept thinking, everyone's gonna say this sucks. Nobody's gonna send in any art. No one's gonna write about this, because people are afraid to write about their mediocrity. I just had these messages in my head. And then we got amazing stuff, beautiful work. There were people coming together without even knowing that they were coming together. It made me feel so validated.
L: It sounds like you were wrestling with this fear—which it turns out everyone has—that I’m the only one who is not okay, who is not measuring up.
H: Yeah, 100%
L: What about you, Rebecca? What’s your favorite theme?
R: I've really been enjoying Volume 2. We had a really intimate January issue, “Generosity.” It was a much smaller issue than we usually put out. I found some calm in that. Then February was “Escape,” and that's my other favorite for the exact opposite reason. That theme really connected with people. We had an explosion of submissions.
L: You have a window into what resonates with people. In February, we were just starting to climb out of our quarantine and go places. Winter was lifting. It was a seasonal theme and a cultural one.
What's your vision for the future? And you could just say, “More of the same!”
R: We've been talking about this a lot. So, we had year one, which was, as Hayley says, “Figuring It Out.” Year two was about growing the team. In addition to finding more contributors and readers, we've been able to find some really amazing people to volunteer their time to help put the issues together: Jacqueline, Maggie, Tim, Myra, and Jessica. The magazine just would not exist if we didn't have them. We've never missed a deadline. We never plan to, but a month is a tight turnaround.
So, year three? User experience. We have been working on beautifying and standardizing past issues in the archive, checking website speeds, and making each issue easier to read and navigate. Maggie has been working hard on that. And merch. I can finally say that WG merch is coming.
H: It’s also really important to us to be able to continue to tip our artists. Right now we have readers, contributors, and even people on our editorial team donating to the magazine because they believe that it's important to pay people for their art and writing.
L: That's amazing.
H: We do call them tips, because it is certainly not the value worth of what people are submitting. Both of us feel really strongly that the tips are such an important part of seeing somebody for the work that they're creating. So many of us create because that's what we're driven to do but also, how nice is it to be paid for that work?
L: What has surprised you the most about WG?
H: That people continue to submit and read it. I have such imposter syndrome. Every month I'm blown away that we continue to have return contributors as well as new people who find us through word of mouth, Instagram, or however. What has surprised me is that people read it and love it and keep coming back, and then tell their friends and family about it, and then they love it.
R: Every month I get a big text from my mother-in-law about every single thing she read in the issue and how much she loved it. When people go out of their way to tell me what they connected with in the issue, or that they sat down and read the whole thing—it’s the best.
L: One of the most surprising things for me is that it feels like a real community. I don’t have internet relationships. I don’t even use Instagram that much, but I use it more now. I want to check in on the artists that I know from WG. If I ever repost a comic, I usually get some love from the WG community, too.
Another surprise is that there are people I know personally who found WG. One of my close friends from college published a story, but I didn’t know until I sat down to read the issue. It was like being at a wedding. I saw people from disparate parts of my life together in the same room.
R: Hayley and I have both had family members contribute. There’s something about WG that makes it feel like an exciting and comfortable place to share what you’ve been creating, even if you might not have felt safe sharing them elsewhere.
H: So many people have this narrative that, Well, I create, or I write, but it's not good enough to publish. I just don't believe that's true. WG may not be the right place for everyone, but no matter what art you're creating, there is a place out there for it. Rebecca and I try to tell people, Don’t stop here. Your art is valuable. Your writing is valuable. A “no” doesn’t mean your work is bad. It just means, let's work on it a little more or get some feedback or find another place that is a good fit.
R: Something that really surprised me is how many people in my life have committed to making WG a part of their life every month. Like Lauren and Hayley, you have never once missed a deadline or not shown up.
L: It's really important to me. It is what’s keeping me creative right now, when I’m busy. It’s part of my monthly routine. There’s a blessing and a curse with deadlines. The blessing is that they can be a way to make something a part of your life, by creating a slot for it.
H: One of the sayings I’ve fallen in love with recently is, “Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” Sometimes having a deadline means that you just get it out because it's good enough. As somebody who does a lot of procrastinating because I’m a perfectionist, it is helpful. There have been months that I’ve hated my cover—like, hated it. I’m just like, whatever, it’s got to go out. It’s kept me creating. I'm continuing to paint, which is so important to me. I don't make time for it otherwise.
R: It reminds me of what I tell my students: Writing is never done, it’s only due.
by Jessica Doble
Inspiration: These four paintings are my first attempts to learn how to watercolor a bouquet of sunflowers. I saw a version of this painting on Pinterest and thought I could do my own. However, from the first painting, I realized I didn't know how to paint sunflowers. So I watched some tutorials and tried them. This series demonstrates trying to find a groove for painting. I also picked up watercolors because after graduating from my PhD program, I felt that I was missing a goal outside of my work identity. After striving for something for so long with all parts of my life, I felt depressed and lost without this all-encompassing goal. Watercolor helped me create a new goal and a new groove.
Furrow and Gouge
by Hannah ChappleMy grandmother etched line drawings on white paper— an eagle poisedin the groove between mountains, wings air wideand reaching— mother and daughter,hands buried deep in dough, learningbread and stories in the home quiet. Your non-dominant hand revealsnatural personality and character,while your dominant hand shows traitsyou choose to practice. My hands are echoes of her hands, twistingyarns into shape, darkening pages with furrow and gouge. My grandmother was well-practiced atsneaking. When she wanted chocolate donuts or scratch-offs, her long grin sweptbright across her face, whispered our secret into the air. Air hands— square palms and long fingers-mean curious, intellectual,if easily distracted. Her hands were like air, palm cuppedto my hairline, fingers dancing through warm bath water,a trace reaching outward always fromher through memory and time. My love line only reaches my middle finger, indicates potential restlessness. Each time I begana new life— answered a call blood-deepthat whispered with her voice—she took my hand in hers,sent her peculiar heirinto the chill light of morning. The depth of a lifeline marks richness of experience.By the end her handswere paper, deep-grooved, my fingerswrapped in pages of her. Losing her cut long across space between us,chill air gone quiet, fallen dark.
A diagonal seam tying life line to sun linesignals inheritance. This furrowspreads deep across each of my hands.
by Robin Brownfield
glue, tiles, beads, grout
Inspiration: Inspired by my theatrical, musically talented youngest son, who is groovy (yes, I'm bringing back that word) in everything he does.
Sound Without Hammer and Anvil is Loss
by Hannah ChappleRaised in the cut-dust of New York maple, knotty pine,the whet scrapeechoes dull like stone on stone,
a cutting edge ground soft with handsshaped like your hands.Learn the word cleave, learn etch,the place steel swallows grain.
Danger follows the cold, where skinchimes against the open air like shattering, achesfor the wood-burning stove, fears the sound of a new blade wearing old.
The workbench edges bowto cup the high hip grooves of men—collect their leanings, carve toward shape, etch where they began.
Blanks spin into becoming, grow legs. Love the way the grain guides fingers,speaks beneath hands. Cutuntil its voice becomes your voice.
Utter “finished” into the colddeparture. Dispossess the thumbprints hiddenin each dark joining. End with cleave,begin with grain again.
by Melissa Lomax
Inspiration: When I was little and visiting my creative Aunt Kathy, she encouraged me to paint on the rocks in her beautiful garden. I later found out that the neighborhood children thought fairies created these magical illustrations! Ever since this experience, I've loved painting on various objects and delight when I leave them in unexpected places. Seeing this rock reminds me how deeply rooted my creativity is and how each new moment can be a fresh start.
See behind the scenes of Wild Greens. Our Ko-fi page contains concept art for past issues.
Artists and Contributors
Madi Morelli (she/her) is a queer woman based out of Toronto who has been writing for just about her entire life, but only recently decided to share it. She has plans to someday publish a romance novel, a book of poems, and a full-length play. She is currently studying creative writing at the University of Toronto School of Continuing Studies and graduated from Randolph College for the Performing Arts in 2019.
Melissa Lomax (she/her) is a freelance illustrator, art teacher and cartoonist, with 20 years of experience in the creative industry. Some of her clients include American Greetings, Barnes & Noble, Sellers Publishing and Highlights for Children. Her comic 'Doodle Town' posts on GoComics.com, the largest catalog of syndicated cartoons and comics. When she is not in the art studio, she enjoys spending time in nature, drinking really good coffee, and 'everyday adventures' with her husband. Pop by her Instagram @melissalomaxart for weekly inspiration!
Jessica Donahue (she/her) loves the word “heArtist”. Her backgrounds are rooted in dance/movement and performance art coupled with creative community activism, wellness, and collaboration. Jessica’s expression through writing has been a long time outlet that she hopes encourages others to embrace their own voice.
Writer and Copyeditor
Myra Chappius (she/her) is the author of six works of fiction and poetry. While her passion lies with shorter creations, it is her aspiration to complete a full-length novel and screenplay someday. She enjoys reading, music, travel, and learning. When not doing mom things, she is working full-time, seeing the latest movie, or waiting an acceptable length of time before returning to Universal Orlando to satiate her Harry Potter obsession.
You can follow Myra on Instagram at @inwordform. Her work can be purchased on Amazon.
Irina Tall (Novikova)
Irina Tall [Novikova] (she/her) is an artist, graphic artist, illustrator, writer. She graduated from the State Academy of Slavic Cultures with a degree in art, and also has a bachelor's degree in design. The first personal exhibition "My soul is like a wild hawk" (2002) was held in the museum of Maxim Bagdanovich. In her works, she often raises themes of ecology. In 2005 she devoted a series of works to the Chornobyl disaster, which draws on anti-war topics. The first big series she drew was The Red Book, dedicated to rare and endangered species of animals and birds. She draws various fantastic creatures, such as unicorns and animals with human faces. She especially likes the image of a woman - a bird - Siren. In 2022, she took part in Poznań Art Week.
Artist and Writer
Lauren Kimball (she/her) lives in Philadelphia. She teaches literature and composition at Rutgers University-New Brunswick. In her spare time, she plays with paint, digital pens, words, and home improvement tools.
You can find her comics on Instagram @turtle_n_hare_comic.
Artist and Poetry Editor
Jessica Doble (she/her) holds a PhD in English from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. She's published two critical works: “Hope in the Apocalypse: Narrative Perspective as Negotiation of Structural Crises in Salvage the Bones” in Xavier Review, and “Two-Sides of the Same Witchy Coin: Re-examining Belief in Witches through Jeannette Winterson’s The Daylight Gate” in All about Monsters. Her poetry has appeared in PubLab and Wild Greens magazine.
Hannah Chapple (she/her) is a writer and educator, currently teaching high school English in Atlanta, GA. Her recent poetry appears in Sooth Swarm Journal, DMQ Review, and Ibis Head. A critical chapter, "'The World of Sensible Seasons Had Come Undone': Climate Change and Regional Folklore in Barbara Kingsolver’s Flight Behavior," is forthcoming in Wait Five Minutes: Weatherlore in the Twenty-First Century from the University of Mississippi Press. Find Hannah on Twitter and Instagram at @HannahEChapple
Robin Brownfield (she/her) is a former sociology professor in Collingswood, New Jersey who turned to mosaic art after becoming disabled. She was featured in a FOX-29 (Philadelphia) News report, because after sharing a series of award-winning “Black Lives Matter” mosaic portraits online, she was commissioned by Tamika Palmer to do a mosaic portrait of her daughter, Breonna Taylor, whose death, in part, launched a rebirth of the Black Lives Matter movement. That portrait can be seen in the documentary “Bree Way: Promise Witness Remembrance.” Her award-winning artwork has been in galleries in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New York City, Las Vegas, Norfolk, Virginia, Texas, Illinois, and San Francisco. She recently finished supervising a community mosaic mural project entitled “Childhood Memories,” which she designed at Thomas Sharp Elementary School in Collingswood, NJ. Above the mural honoring her is a plaque making her one of those old dead people (in the future) who nobody ever heard of, but whose name is on a plaque. Visit her website, www.robinbrownfieldmosaics.com, to see more of her work.
Tim Brey (he/him) is a jazz pianist living in Philadelphia. He holds positions as Artist-in-Residence and Adjunct Faculty at Temple University and The University of the Arts, where he teaches jazz piano, music theory, and improvisation. Check out more of his music and his performance schedule at https://www.timbreymusic.com.
Jacqueline (she/her) is a writer, editor, and copyeditor living in California. She earned her BA in English and creative writing at the University of California, Riverside. She was a 2021 publishing fellow with the Los Angeles Review of Books and an editor and co-editor for PubLab and Mosaic Art and Literary Journal. She serves as the fiction editor for Wild Greens magazine and a copyeditor for the Los Angeles Review of Books and The Arrow Journal.
Maggie Topel (she/her) is an artist and writer living in Philadelphia. She designs our seasonal Wild Greens logo and social media avatar.
Hayley (she/her) creates the cover image for each issue of Wild Greens magazine and serves as the Arts Editor. Hayley is a social justice seeker, world traveler, rock climber, dog snuggler, frisbee player, event planner, and storyteller. She loves to paint with watercolors, embroider, and write. She grew up reading sci-fi and fantasy, and to this day she still turns to those genres to help her make sense of the world. She calls Philadelphia home and wouldn't have it any other way. You can find Hayley on Instagram @hayley3390 or @haypaints. She accepts commissions, and you can find examples of her work on her website.
Rebecca Lipperini (she/her) is a writer, teacher, and academic living in Philadelphia, and the founding editor of Wild Greens magazine (hi!). She holds a PhD in English from Rutgers University, where she taught all kinds of classes on literature and poetry and writing, and wrote all kinds of papers on the same. Her essay on the soothing aesthetics of the supermarket was recently published in PubLab. She teaches in the Critical Writing Program at the University of Pennsylvania.
You can find Rebecca on Instagram @rebeccalipperini (personal) @wildgreensmag (you already know it).