Carolina Muse Literary & Arts Magazine: Letters from the Editor

IV.II

When I was little, magic ran through my veins. I know most kids have this feeling, but my magic always felt special to me. My imagination felt tangible, and the feeling of a connection to something larger than myself resonated through everything I did. Nowadays, as I attempt to connect with that magical little girl inside of me, I’ve begun to notice where this magic has manifested in my life—namely in my passion for the arts.

There is magic in creative expression. It is a miracle that we’re able to express ourselves and our ideas through movement, words, sounds, and materials. Acting on creativity brings an idea to life, shaping something entirely new out of thin air that then has the power to move someone, open their perspectives, or transport them into another world. Incredible, right? Sometimes the creation itself has magical elements, but it doesn’t have to in order to be magic; it just is in its essence.

We all wield a little bit of this magic inside of us. But today, society is so disconnected from it that it can feel like we’re all walking around with our eyes closed. This issue of Carolina Muse invites you to open your eyes. It contains stories of the power of nature, nostalgia & longing, family inheritance, and impactful relationships. The arts and the subjects they touch on are magical, and as you flip through this issue, I hope you can reconnect with that magic inside of yourself.

IV.I

I always choose a word to carry into each year: last year was adventure, the previous, self-discovery, and this year, love. The choice felt gentle compared to the chaos of my adventure year, almost easy, and I was excited to settle into it. But, a little over a month into the year (and, coincidentally, during the month decidedly centered around love), its complexity & chaos have pushed me to reconstruct its definition & reset my intentions.

Love can be seen as a cliche theme in creative work, sometimes used as a default when we aren’t ready to approach “deeper” topics. Perhaps, subconsciously, that was my mindset in choosing the word for my year. But, love isn’t a theme we choose to avoid other feelings & emotions. On the contrary, it pushes us to feel everything more deeply. It isn’t just about a romantic partner… it’s bigger than that. Love drives compassion that is the basis of our connection with others, the earth, and ourselves.

Loving others brings richness to life, but it also urges us to advocate for change in the world where we see hurt. Loving the earth inspires us to look out for it and make choices that support its vitality. And, if we don’t feel love for ourselves, how can we take care of our needs and treat ourselves with the respect we deserve? Love inspires us to feel and to take important action.

This magazine is a love letter to the complexities of human nature, all of the heartbreak, challenges, inspirations, growth, and love that connect us. I hope you fall in love with the characters, art, cadence, rhythm, and melodies it contains, and that this love fosters compassion & love for yourself & others.

III.III

As we conclude volume III of Carolina Muse, I look back on this year of growth with gratitude. We held our first in-person event, launched our refreshed website, welcomed new team members, and leaned into our multimedia roots. I’m proud of where these updates have taken the magazine and its expanded community. However, with these accomplishments came some sacrifices. We’ve stopped printing (for now) and have lowered our publishing frequency to three times per year. Our team is also meeting just once per month.

I used to think that in order to grow, you had to constantly put in the work to get there—an endless cycle of higher & higher expectations that lead to physical & mental exhaustion. I didn’t want to sacrifice anything, only to pile it on and keep climbing. However, I’ve slowly been coming to the realization that growth is steady and happens when you lead with daily intention & care. Trimming back is essential to make room for new growth.

A few weeks ago, I sat outside and repotted some plants, contemplating these same ideas as applied to both the magazine and my own life. Some of the plants I was working on I have had for almost eight years, and they look completely different than they looked back then. They were only able to flourish because I replaced their depleted soil with nutrient-dense soil. Because I removed their dead leaves to create space for new ones to thrive. Because I listened to their unique needs of water & sunlight and supported them as they slowly adjusted. Everything slowly, not too much of anything, and always open to trimming back and making space.

In this issue, you’ll see many stories of loss & trauma. There is so much hurt in the world that often manifests in our art. But, you will also see how this grief shapes us, encourages us to grow, and connects us to one another. You’ll learn about the importance of community & vulnerability in finding support & hope. My wish is that you’ll leave this issue having left something behind, whether it be a fixation or a grievance, and that you’ll take a seed of inspiration with you. I’m excited to see how we all will continue to grow.

III.II

So many of us live in a trance. We have strict routines that provide us with consistency & comfort. I don’t really blame us. The world we live in is often unforgiving, rife with hate and a meaningless fight for power & money. It’s easy to want to hide in our shells.

But, we must emerge. When we reckon with what’s happening in the world, we feel the hard emotions that drive us to act, create, and be heard. Books are being banned. Women’s bodily autonomy is being taken away. People of color and the LGBTQIA+ community continually face terrifying hate crimes. Teacher’s curriculums are scrutinized & restricted. Guns are valued more than humans. Prisons are valued more than support. I could go on.

Today, self expression in the face of discrimination is an act of bravery.

I am proud of the creators featured in this issue for using their art to express the struggles of living in the U.S., and particularly in the South, today. In this issue, you will read a story about gun violence and poems about mental health. You will see a music video that proclaims, “It’s my mind my body / so keep your laws off of me” and art that speaks to racism. You’ll also feel hope in messages of familial & romantic love as well as in tributes to nature.

It is my hope that we all wake up from our trance. That we consume art and music and banned books to gain perspective & empathy. That we produce art that speaks to this, and that we will never let ourselves be silenced.

III.I

Since 2023 began, I have felt the word freedom pulsing in my body, pining to express itself. It’s knocking on the boxes that I have fit myself & my life into, whispering that there is more for me on the other side. It’s giving me permission to take a risk and free myself from anxiety, what ifs, and I can’ts. We all plan our days and lives out, whether we realize it or not, living within the confines of our own expectations & assumptions. Especially if you categorize yourself as a planner (like me), you may be so focused on doing that you aren’t focused on living.

There are two ways I have found that get me better in-touch with this freedom I’ve been craving, both meditative in their nature. The first way is by spending more time outside. On my daily walks in the woods, let myself slow down and notice the air in my lungs and the sky above my head as I weave down the trail and back up, and then I allow myself to break into a sprint if I want to. I am determined to feel the sort of freedom and laser-like mindfulness that a woodland animal feels, expanses of nature to trek, nowhere to be, nothing to expect, and no one to please.

The other way to free yourself is by creating. Getting into what’s known to creators as “the flow” is one of the most freeing feelings. To be in the flow is to be so in-touch with your inner self that you physically cannot overthink or stress–your creative expression takes over. You feel light & all-knowing, completely immersed within yourself. Whether you’re lost in a song or letting a paintbrush dance across a canvas, the flow has the power to carry you to freedom from something that has been holding you down.

This issue of Carolina Muse is an introduction to volume III, a new era for our arts magazine. Our goal this season is to cultivate an even more immersive arts experience and to connect on a deeper level with our community. We are thinking outside of the confines of what was possible for us in volumes I & II. As we dive deeper into our examination of the human experience, I hope our creators & readers find the freedom within themselves to create without expectations, assumptions, and what ifs. I hope the stories & art in this issue give you permission to create outside of the box and from within yourself.

TEAM EDITION

Today, September 16th, 2022, we’re celebrating two years of magic. On that day, Carolina Muse Literary & Arts Magazine officially opened submissions for its very first edition, and our website & social media accounts went live. I remember feeling so self-assured that this was what I was meant to do… whether I knew how it was going to work or not! Deep inside, I was confident I had the skills & passion needed to start this multimedia arts magazine, and as our team grew, I had the support & community needed to continue. My goal has always been to provide an immersive & inclusive platform for younger, mostly previously unpublished, creatives of all types to share their work. I always tell people I want opening Carolina Muse to feel like walking into a modern art museum, enveloped in art that speaks to all of the senses & emotions.

Since I was young, I’ve been interested in all forms of the arts. An avid reader, writer, crafter, and musician, I saw that self expression comes in all art forms. The same way a poet uses line breaks, punctuation, and symbols to speak meaning into concepts hard to put into words, a dancer creates intentional movements that carry equivalent weight or a visual artist includes specific colors, styles, and symbols for a deeper purpose.

I am so thankful to have team members, readers, and creators that have supported our small publication, whether since the beginning or since our most recent issue. You have truly made Carolina Muse the vibrant community of artists it is today. The growth we’ve experienced over the last two years has been tremendous, and I am excited to see where the upcoming years take us.

II.IV

Since moving deeper into the mountains two months ago, I’ve learned that both human connection and solitude are integral to growth & creativity.

Our new house is perched on top of a mountain overlooking valleys of farmland and the rolling mountains in Pisgah National Forest. Here, I often feel disconnected from civilization, wrapped in the quiet embrace of the forest. Before moving to Brevard, I was anxious that I would feel lonely. Now, I have experienced the healing power of solitude. I have been writing poetry, taking notes in my journal, singing loud, and watching the sunset each night. My creative juices had been bottled up and now the pressure of silence and altitude have caused them to overflow.

Although I’ve come to love the time I’ve spent alone, I still crave human connection. Plus, the time I have spent with others has become even more fruitful. From short conversations with the lady who sells wildflowers at the farmer’s market, to moments shared with my family & friends, I feel more tuned in, alive, and energized. Communication is how we empathize, connect with, and learn from one another. We work together to solve problems and generate positive change. Human connection feeds the soul.

Certain pieces in this magazine invite solitude & reflection. One of our short stories follows the incredibly lonely experience that follows the death of a loved one; several poems examine how loneliness follows you after lost relationships. Whimsical depictions of the natural environment in visual art pieces place readers in the comforting solitude of nature. Conversely, other pieces in this issue show the importance of our connection with others, such as art pieces & poems that draw parallels from us to our ancestors and music that elicits feelings of togetherness & support.

As you flip through this issue, I hope you connect with the work inside and that it reminds you to feed your yearning for both solitude & human connection; I promise they both live inside of you. This duality is what makes us human.

II.III

I have always loved the warm embrace of summer heat. As someone who is naturally cold all of the time, I typically thrive in the summer, where I can walk outside wearing shorts and a t-shirt comfortably, feeling light, breezy, and content.

However, this summer has felt different. This summer, the heat is stifling. Not only are the effects of climate change continuing to alter our seasons and increase the severity of natural disasters—guns have more bodily autonomy than women. And most elected officials are not doing much to expedite change. The helplessness many of us are feeling right now is suffocating.

As I sat down to write my Letter From the Editor this issue, it felt hard to remember the sweet simple joys of my favorite season. The weight of the world took up my mind, and writer’s block made me feel as if it would be impossible to put my thoughts on paper. But then I went to the beach and felt the ocean pull my hair back and my body under.

Due to life-long ear issues, I haven’t always been able to put my head under water. When I was around 12-years-old, I got ear plugs that molded perfectly to each ear. That summer, with the ear plugs as my shield, I re-learned how to swim underwater. Such a simple act as going under a wave felt exhilarating, freeing, and entirely new. I promised myself then that I’d never take that feeling for granted again. Now, amidst the heavy news that drags me down, I can cool my anxiety in the water, remembering the hope & resilience that comes with each wave.

In this issue, several of our published creators examine complex emotions & experiences that can feel heavy. Don’t let yourself become numb, but allow yourself to feel that heaviness, and let that heaviness inspire you into action.

II.II

In an attempt to keep years of my life from flying by without noticing (Anyone else feel like we’ve been in a time warp since 2020?), I’ve been practicing present-moment awareness. Feeling my body in space. Feeling gravity push my feet into the ground, my head into the pillow.

In this practice, I’ve noticed that I love spending time in the inbetweens. That less-than-half-a-beat when an inhale turns into an exhale. The way you suspend in the air on a swing set, right before dropping backward or forward, frozen in time. The moments when the sunset descends into the twilight and when the twilight ascends into the sunrise.

If you’ve ever been immersed in art, whether you’re creating it or enjoying it, you’re probably familiar with “the zone,” a state of mind that is “inbetween” in its essence. When you’re in the zone, you’re deeply connected to your memories, passions, emotions, and interpretations. Art provides a bridge between our internal world and the physical world. Through art, our vulnerabilities become strengths that connect us.

The stories & emotions that our creators have captured are brave examples of the human experience. I hope that reading this issue transports you into the zone. I hope these multimedia pieces bring you into your inbetween.

II.I

We have officially come full-circle. The pre-release day jitters still hit me just as hard as they did exactly one year ago when we were preparing to release our very first issue of volume I. A lot has changed since then... and a lot has stayed the same.

Each new year, we attempt to hit the “reset” button on our lives. Our diets, skin care, progress toward life-long goals, and even our dental hygiene (...or maybe that one is just me?). Supposedly, this is our one shot of the year to revamp our lives. However, as the weeks & months of a new year begin to expire, we often find ourselves standing amidst a pile of broken resolutions, our flaws reflected in their shards below.

Take a deeper look at that reflection. The person looking back at you is a living, breathing human being. Humans come with flaws, pain, and loss. But they also come with strength, hope, and light. As you flip through the pages of this first issue of volume II, it is my hope that you feel connected to the feelings and experiences our creators have captured. I hope you feel joy in the dance, sadness in the short stories, compassion in the art, and inspiration in the music.

As this year begins, embrace your human-ness: your guilt and your resilience. It is what connects us.

I.IV

When the leaves fall off of the trees in autumn, I, too, often feel like I am falling. Falling out of the warm, predictable comfort of the summer, and easing into an unsteady overcast. As the hours of sunlight start to dwindle, we’re faced with sweaters, candles, and soups... but also a whole lot of darkness. As a generally optimistic person, it is easy for me to push away my deeper struggles & anxieties, covering them all up with a solid smile. But doesn’t everyone have a little bit of darkness?

But no matter your darkness, creative expression liberates us. No matter the form it takes. Art allows us the opportunity to express the full sphere of our emotions: the scary and the beautiful. It connects us to each other so we don’t feel so alone amidst our battles. As the editors & I sort through submissions for each issue, it always surprises me how many similarities there are among pieces. The feelings they elicit, the themes they tackle. It always feels so honest and so raw.

True vulnerability lies in these pages. The stories these pieces tell, written and visual, do have darkness. But as these pieces stare at each other on facing pages, it is hard to miss the unifying feeling that shouts that you’re not alone.

I.III

In my younger years, I spent so much time outdoors that I may as well have been a plant myself, growing roots into the Carolina soil and reaching up toward sunlight. Even still, I feel a deep connection to the Earth. Each summer especially, I return to this one-ness with nature, warm sun beams permeating through my soul, and the sounds of the forest casting notes through my heart.

The tie between myself and nature has resonated with me especially so in the past few months. I have learned that human nature is a reflection of mother nature: the beauty, the pain, and the essential, life-dependent connections among diverse living things. As nature has come alive this season, our society has had life breathed into it as well. We’re emerging from this past year like a tree re-growing its leaves or an animal coming out of hibernation. Resilient, revived, and connected.

Much of the art contained in this issue embodies this resilience and connection with both human and mother nature. It tells the stories of the mountains we’ve climbed: the peaks, valleys, cliffs, trailheads and dead-ends. I hope it inspires you to look back on the trail you’ve followed, see the tiny tracks winding miles into the distance, and be proud of how far you’ve come.

I.II

I never saw the stars until I was 20-years-old. I definitely looked at them when I was a kid, and I’d stargazed plenty of times growing up, but I never truly saw the stars. Honestly, I couldn’t see anything clearly until it was ten feet in front of me, but I also found myself constantly distracted by all of the busy chaos on earth.

There was something about having lived a full two decades that put life into perspective, and somehow the night sky became a metaphor that helped me find my purpose... or rather, ditch the concept of a true purpose. (It also helped that I got glasses that summer and could finally see the tiny pinpoints of light in full clarity.)

All of our earthly problems mean nothing in the grand scheme of the universe. The galaxies stretch to infinity in distance & time. Our purpose isn’t an earthly one, but it’s an internal one. Personally, I do my best to emulate light and for that light to reflect itself in my passions.

The pieces in this magazine are a product of passion. They are emotions, experiences, and relationships that define each creator’s being. These dances, poems, songs, stories, and art pieces show the depth of life beyond surface-level concerns, just like the night sky does. I urge you to look up, focus in on those pinpoints of fiery light, and empty yourself so you, too, can create.

I.I

2021. We’ve made it. There were days when we thought we wouldn’t, but here we are: living, breathing, and connected, despite the distance. We have been brought face to face with the deepest parts of our selves and our society, and through this reckoning, stories of loss & resilience have emerged. This magazine tells those stories. One painting tells the story of someone who challenges the conventions of society. One dancer expresses their relationship with their body through movement. One poem describes the poets’ feelings of isolation because of their sexuality. One short story confronts the concept of falling out of love. One song hearkens on the pain that comes from losing a loved one.

The five art forms we feature in this first issue work together to give a full picture of the human experience. The sounds, colors, movements, and words in this magazine reveal the love, loss, acceptance, and resistance that we have each experienced throughout the past year.

We have survived by creating, expressing ourselves through the arts. May we continue to bloom through adversity.