Wild Greens

Volume 1, Issue x

Celestial

Wild Greens 1, no. 10 (August 2021)

Celestial

Welcome to the August 2021 issue of Wild Greens

There is a great paradox of the universe… the vast distances of space can leave us feeling infinitely small and sick with cosmic loneliness. Or, we look up into the sky, and, implausibly, find connection and deep meaning among the stars and heavenly bodies.

Throughout human existence, we have found patterns among the twinkling lights in the darkness. We have created stories and passed those stories down through generations about the constellations in the night sky. Those stories among the stars have allowed us to navigate the seas, determine the precise time to harvest crops, and share our culture with one another.

And so we asked our community to dream about the cosmos and to share with us what “Celestial” means to them.

We start with tranquil moments in Tim Brey’s poem, “Sitting Still” and Suzanne Lipovsky’s oil painting, “Fragmented Serenity.” Amid the sometimes manic rhythms of our lives, they look at the building blocks of the world and find moments of peace.

Our existence is intertwined in those building blocks, in the atoms of the universe and the stars that die only to became us. Kendall Moore’s poem and original artwork explores the intimacy of this life cycle – the curves and holes of anonymous personhood – the molecules and dust we once were and may become again. Phedra Deonarine’s shimmering eyeshadow and lipstick spaceships dusted across a cardboard canvas reflect on loneliness and nights out.

I. Armwood’s poem, “Anywhere but Here,” considers how challenging it can be to navigate expectations, and that if only we can squeeze our fingers tight enough to hold water as a mirror, we might reflect back the astronomical beauty within ourselves and use it as a portal to the stars. Caroline Tuman’s watercolors portray her “Big Three” astrological signs and find identity among the stars.

The latest “Turtle and Hare” provides a moment of pause, allowing us to consider the inextricable link between time and loss. Lightyears may pass, and yet the cherished moments of loved ones long gone never fade.

“Stardust” by Lisa Molina thrums with heartbeats, blood, and new life cradled in the cosmos of a mother’s womb. In “Gaia Blowing Bubbles," artist Robin Brownfield imagines her daughter as the earth goddess blowing planet bubbles into the solar system.

Malaya Fletcher’s poem, “Fade to night,” draws parallels between myths, the constellations, and her own stories. Night gives way to day, and a fleeting moment of love not meant to be fades, too.

Hayley Boyle’s watercolor mirrors the surreal qualities of sunsets and moonrises, where what’s real can feel more divine than fiction. And we end our issue, only to begin again on this continuum, with Jessica Donahue’s “Our Stars” – for “we never leave, we only change form.”

We’re also expanding our universe here at Wild Greens, as we welcome aboard two new contributing editors to the team. Jacqueline Ruvalcaba will be editing short fiction and Tim Brey is our new music editor.

-Rebecca and Hayley (co-written and constellated together)


Sitting still

by Tim Brey


Sitting still
And looking out

On dragonflies

And ducks about

The lake so still

And seeming now

To meet the sky

And further still


In pausing I…


Do see it slow


This piece of skill


The ebb and flow


And peace and still


Perfected now


In looking out


And sitting still


Fragmented Serenity

by Suzanne Lipovsky


oil paint, canvas


Inspiration: You can look out at the same stars and the same sky every night, and still you can get a new perspective on the world. The landscape can be the same but different in other realities and dreams. Together, the small pieces are building blocks that form a wondrous world.


Telescope Orientation and Stardust Jae

By Kendall Moore


At the beginning of the universe, all matter was created. Every atom that exists now, existed then,

in that instant of creation.


The auditorium seats grew stiff, restless scribbling arrested

Every thing & every one in that classroom, in that sky, in these stars, this milk tea


Slap two queens in a row tonight, shuffle these mint cards, you’re back from New York

Food court & cinema sign neon play high school memory-reel, midnight showing


That day I wore green flannel & you untangled

earrings from my curls. We were late,

didn’t check our tickets, just the red ticker above the room

I thought was ours. Missed

the first ten minutes at most –

we screened burst pipes, a baby in a box, a monster

snarling in a corner. (you took my hand)

But after a few minutes’ silo-stress & screaming,

full-room silence.


You are made of Stardust



Pass through your doorway like sunflowers at night

Your sofa is gone, the room full of single chairs


On the edge of your backyard firepit, our soles are flush

Then you kick off like yanking one hair from my scalp


We could be skeletons under an x-ray, hairless heads, erased faces,

Silhouettes against projector light, the curves & holes of anonymous personhood



The molecules inside of you today were once dust floating in space

and they became stars and they died and now, they are you.


Ink on paper and digital


Methods: ink line work on paper, scan, color in Photoshop


Spaceships

by Phedra Deonarine


Eyeshadow, lipstick, cardboard


Inspiration: I was thinking about spaceships and wondering if being on one would be more lonely than wonderful. The sky is bright. Very bright. I chose to work with eyeshadow and lipstick because of how excess light sometimes makes the night sky bright, and also because it reminds me of dressing up for a night out. Shimmer also seems fitting for a piece with spaceships.


Anywhere but Here

by I. Armwood


fingers tightly squeezed together

desperate to hold the moon-reflecting water

the place of escape and astronomical beauty

perhaps if my fingers fused together i could use the water as a portal to the stars


they say when you’re at the bottom there’s nowhere to go but up

but what about when you’re at the tippy-top

is there only down


down here i’m always walking on egg shells

but up there it feels like my wings will never let me touch the surface

i become a celestial being

free from disappointed eyes

expectations

failure


i can only hope Saturn will share her ring with me

or Mars will melt his polar ice caps to make room for me

from here i can take comfort in Venus’ short visibility on Earth

i can squeeze my fingers a little tighter to make home for the moon’s reflection



My Big Three

by Caroline Tuman


watercolor, canvas


Inspiration: My inspiration is my passion for astrology and how it relates to myself and those around me. I painted the zodiac constellations of my Sun, Moon and Rising signs which are Virgo, Aries and Aquarius.

If you like the issue, you can donate to Wild Greens through our Ko-fi page!

The Turtle King

by Lauren Kimball


Digital stylus


stardust

by Lisa Molina


pinpoints of life

fragments of

exploding stars


moon eggs float

contentedly in a

mother’s womb


growing, stretching, turning,

hearing the rhythm of

the heart blood flowing


seeking more space

pushing and prodding

to discover new worlds


even if by pain

blood fear and

saltwater tears


interconnected by

the stardust within

all of us


and the rhythm

of moon life

waves breathing


in and out

back and forth

ebb and flow


whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh



Gaia Blowing Bubbles

by Robin Brownfield


mosaic


Methods: cut, glue, grout


Inspiration: Inspired by a photo of my daughter blowing a bubble, I imagined her as Gaia and the bubbles as the planets in our solar system.

Fade to night

by Malaya Fletcher


I am never satisfied. Why

do we glory in conclusions,

Chasing endings

With the velocity of shooting stars?

We pass the summer together

Careening along river trails, and

Dashing through woods

Before plunging into a lake

I burrow into the foundation

Of your bones, as we

Watch the sky’s domed amphitheater

Fade to night

Tracing star points mid-air,

We name the constellations,

Their mythologies interspersed

With our own stories

“Orion grounds me,” I tell you,

“Wherever I go in the world,

I look up and there he is ––

Where Artemis placed him.”

The Moon Goddess and her playmate

A meeting of minds,

They equaled each other

In their exultation of the hunt

Until his death. When

His body washed ashore,

She carried him out of the sea

And flung his body into the sky

You and I share something they did not

In our night explorations, hands seek

The crescent moon of shoulder blades,

Relentless pursuit of flesh

Arrows of kisses pierce my neck

Your hands grip my thighs as I ride towards

Our shuddering conclusion, the prey

Our bodies chase down


Your presence suits me. And

I wonder,

Could You and I

Become “We”?


Fireflies sear the sky

You trace the dot-to-dot

freckles on my cheek

Saying nothing

Stars scatter and day breaks

The strawberry moon’s gleam

begins to fade.

I make no demands


Resignation wars with hope, but

There is no more time for discovery

We are a pair of never be’s;

Such is the fate of restless souls


Powerless against Earth’s orbit,

Orion dips below the horizon.

You will travel west

With the changing season


But endings are not conclusions, for

Artemis will hunt again, and

I will find other constellations

Along the ecliptic plane


I would rather live with longing

Than cling to expectations

(As if promises

Could keep dawn at bay)


Your chest rises and falls

I close my eyes

And sink

Beneath the waves of your breath


See behind the scenes of Wild Greens. Our Ko-fi page contains concept art for the issue.

Moonrise and the Mountains

by Hayley Boyle


watercolor, Faber-Castell 1.5 and SB pens


Methods: wet-in-wet wash, gradient and color blending, line drawing, crosshatching


Inspiration: I've always enjoyed capturing how surreal the world around us can feel. I love the free-flowing qualities of watercolors, and how they give me the ability to paint those feelings on paper. I sometimes have to catch my breath in moments where the sun is setting, the moon is rising, and the mountains make me feel small amidst the universe, but in the best possible way.

Our Stars

by Jessica Donahue

Find us amongst the stars

We are made of the debris that bears life

Magical, heart-wrenching, euphoric reality

Experiencing emotions in human form

Celestial souls, spirits in a physical body

Laughing, crying, breathing, loving, aching, healing

Where we see all that there is

One another

Sentient beings

All that feels the ever moving Mother Earth

The green and blue we are a part of

Stars we are,

Sun and Moon guided

Earth planted

Eternally elevated

We never leave

We only change form


If you like the issue, you can donate to Wild Greens through our Ko-fi page!

Artists and Contributors

Tim Brey

(he/him/his)


Poet

Tim Brey 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.

Suzanne Lipovsky
(she/her/hers)
Artist

Suzanne lives in Philadelphia and works to train aspiring school leaders. Some of her "free time" passions include music, public policy, pop culture references, hiking, traveling, and cooking. Suzanne enjoys learning about things outside of her wheelhouse, which led her in recent years to learn to knit, crochet, and embroider (which have all become great stress relievers during a pandemic).

Kendall Moore

(she/her/hers)
Artist and Poet

Kendall Moore is a student at UCLA double majoring in English and Spanish and minoring in film. She won the Escribo en español Spanish writing contest for poetry, and more of her work has appeared in Westwind, Matchbox Magazine, and Daily Bruin. As a SoCal native, she is always at the beach or otherwise soaking up the sun. But on those rare overcast days, she is baking cookies, listening to rock and indie-pop albums, or collaging any surface she can.


If you are interested in more of her art, check out https://kokeshikk.wixsite.com/kiki-arty or follow her on Instagram @kiki.arty.

If you like her art, send her a tip! Venmo: @Kendall-Moore-25

Phedra Deonarine
(she/her/hers)
Artist

Phedra Deonarine studied Caribbean literature in the doctoral program at Rutgers University, New Brunswick. She has an MFA in creative writing from Rutgers, Newark. She is currently working on a collection of speculative short fiction. She likes gardens and public libraries.

I. Armwood
(they/he)
Poet

I. Armwood is a 2020 graduate from Chatham University where they published poetry twice in their alma mater's literary magazine, The Minor Bird. They were a featured reader at the Chatham University’s Word Circus, Rea Coffeehouse Reading Series, and Queer Read-In. Currently I. Armwood is a small streamer for fun on Twitch and Facebook Gaming under the name Astronomical Monarch.


You can find them on Instagram: AstronomicalMonarch.IG ; on Twitter: AstroMonarch ; and on CuriousCat: AstroMonarch


If you like their art, send them a tip! Venmo: @Iyanna-Armwood


Caroline Tuman
(she/her/hers)
Artist

Caroline recently graduated from Thomas Jefferson University with a degree in fashion merchandising and management. She now works as an assistant buyer for Ross Stores and lives in New York City. She enjoys expressing her creativity through fashion, painting, and photography.


You can find her on Twitter and Instagram at @caroline_tuman.


If you like her art, send her a tip! Venmo: Caroline-Tuman

Robin Brownfield
(she/her/hers)
Artist

Robin Brownfield is a former sociology professor who turned to art after becoming disabled. While she dabbles in numerous art forms, she finds mosaic art is a great way to recycle old materials and found objects. She has created murals, garden walkways, ornate tables, and countless other mosaic works, but recently, she has turned to creating portraits and works for social justice. She was recently featured in a FOX-29 News report, because she was commissioned by Tamika Palmer to do a mosaic portrait of her daughter, Breonna Taylor, whose death, in part, launched an international movement for justice for victims of racist murders. She has also won numerous awards in juried art shows, was featured as one of the Best Mosaic Artists in New Jersey in Best of NJ, and has had her art displayed in galleries all over the United States.


You can find her on Instagram @nebula1400 and Facebook - Robin Brownfield Mosaics Online Gallery. You can also visit her website Robin Brownfield Mosaics.


If you like her work, send her a tip! PayPal: rbrownfield[at]verizon[dot]net.

Lauren Kimball
(she/her/hers)

Artist

Lauren Kimball 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.

Lisa Molina
(she/her/hers)

Poet

Lisa Molina is a writer/educator in Austin, Texas. She taught high school English and theatre, was Associate Publisher of Austin Family Magazine, and now works with students with special needs. Her son is a 3-time childhood cancer survivor. When not writing or reading with her silver tabby in her lap, she can probably be found playing piano, singing, or hiking and swimming in the cool, clear waters of the Barton Creek Greenbelt near her home with her daughter.


You can find her writing at her blog: lisalitgeek.wordpress.com; on Instagram: @lisabookgeek; and on Twitter: @lisabmolina1


Malaya Fletcher
(she/her/hers)

Poet

Malaya Fletcher currently resides in Washington, DC with her cat, Copurrnicus. Originally from Seattle, she moved to the mid-Atlantic by way of Arizona, Paris, India, New York, Ghana, and Philadelphia.


You can find her on Instagram: @liminalstages


Jessica Donahue

(she/her/hers)

Poet

Jessica is a 30 year old “heArtist” who’s passions run deep. Her backgrounds are rooted in the arts, dance, theatre, creative movement and direction, yoga, wellness, mental health advocacy and community event coordinating. She is currently pursuing her Associates Degree in General Studies and is grateful for the ability to both exchange with others in all art mediums and be a forever student in life.


You can find her storefront on her website: simplyjaed.squarespace.com ;on Instagram @authenticstrive @starsmoonsunshinejd ;and on Facebook: Authentic Strive


If you like her writing, send her a tip! Venmo: @authenticstrive


Hayley Boyle
(she/her/hers)
Artist

Hayley 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 story-teller. She loves to paint with watercolors, embroider, and write. She grew up on 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 she wouldn't have it any other way.


You can find her on Instagram @hayley3390 or @haypaints. She takes commissions, and you can find examples of her work on her website.


If you like her art, send her a tip! Venmo: @hayley-jeanne.

Maggie Topel
(she/her/hers)

Artist

Maggie Topel is an artist and writer living in Philadelphia. She designs our seasonal Wild Greens logo and social media avatar.

Rebecca Lipperini
(she/her/hers)
Editor-in-chief

Rebecca Lipperini 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.


You can find Rebecca on Instagram @rebeccalipperini (personal) @wildgreensmag (you already know it).