cosmos
DEC 2022
Table of Contents
The Moon Sees Me
Words by Ruth Sellin and Illustration by Zsuzsa GoodyerThe Stars
Words by Ananthi Parekh and Illustration by John Chamberlain Nebular Convergence: Pillars of Creation
Words by Anna Geier and Illustration by Sah CampbellCover and Endpapers: Abigail Winson
Editor: Margarita Louka
The Moon Sees Me
By: Ruth Sellin
I have been musing on the power of names and their meaning.
My mother made the mistake of telling me once that she almost named me Artemis after the Greek goddess of the moon. I think this is a much more badass name than Ruth, the biblical figure who is famous simply for being good and marrying well. And as I’ve grown and come to terms with myself, I think the deity who was famous for protecting young women and running free amongst the stars is definitely more of a role model for me.
Artemis is one of the virgin goddesses, so as I have discovered my asexuality my affinity with her has only grown. She also famously asked her father Zeus for the right to never marry, and as we still live in a society where marriage is often seen as inevitable, such an iconic figure openly rejecting the institution brings a certain level of comfort to those of us who sometimes feel outside the norm. I have just started researching violence against women and girls, which I see as my own way of continuing Artemis’ fierce commitment to women’s safety in the modern era. This train of thought has also made me remember that my mother used to sing me to sleep as a child with a prayer about the moon:
I see the moon, the moon sees me, God bless the moon, and God bless me.
I wish I could share the pretty tune that accompanies these words, but know that it brought comfort to a little girl who went through quite a long phase of being afraid of the dark. It makes me wonder just how long the moon has seen me and if, possibly, Artemis had always marked me as one of her modern-day huntresses.
But maybe this is all a coincidence and our names, or possible names, do not shape us. I like to think that I would have chosen this life for myself whether it was meant for me or not, but it is nice to think that even if no one else does, the moon always sees me.
Illustration By: Zsuzsa GoodyerThe Stars
By: Ananthi ParekhWhenever I’m at a gallery there are always a handful of things I love seeing art of everytime, to sum them up, one is the sea, and one is the sky. I could spend hours looking at any sort of art that captures the movement in the waves, and I am constantly in awe of how artist capture the clouds. Seeing these weightless, heavenly shapes created through a study in light and colour never ceases to amaze me.
But one of the things I also look for, and for almost the opposite reason, is the stars. Being a queer, openminded, nonbinary person of colour, I am constatnly told, and reminded, that people don’t share the same point of view as me, or that people see things differently, or even that ‘things were different then’. And this constant variety of perception is something everyone goes through in life, meeting people and learning how to navigate different opinions and how to find your own, it sometimes feels like human beings are inherently made to disagree. You’re probably wondering how this has anything to do with the stars, or art, but hear me out.
If you go in to a gallery, or watch a movie, the stars are always shown in the same way. These beautiful glowing lights in the sky. And sure they can represent different things to different people, but throughout any type of media, when you see a star, you know what it is. From the 5 pointed shapes you’re taught to draw as a kid, to pinpricked dots in a black sky, they’re universal. And its something I always take comfort in. Even recently, I remeber the awe we all had when the James Webb telescope came back with those images of space, and around the same time I was reading Percy Jackson, and it struck me that the awe we have is one we have always had, from looking at images of galaxies now to the ancient Greeks telling their stories with the stars.
I’m not here to preach that ‘we’re all human’, but its hard not to find comfort in the fact that if I look out my window, I know I am looking at something that is universal and constant. My great grandparents would see the same, and my family spread across the world will see the same. And there’s something beautiful in that.
Illustration By: John Chamberlain
Nebular Convergence: Pillars of Creation’
By: Anna GeierA speck of dust, A miniscule molecule Of cellular composition. An aura-less atom, Out of sync, out of time Lifeless in the dark. An insignificant thing, Awaiting cosmic rebirth.
The pull and attraction irresistible, Gaining velocity, generating energy, Pressure rising, burning heat. An uncontainable blast-wave, An outer-body releaseSmall membrane now ruptured!
Transforming with new matters and worldly ideas, Consuming wisdom from the Great Old Ones. Restoring an energised glow from eons ago, Becoming a unified whole.
An interstellar colony, Cloud hubs sharing resources Forming comforting bubbles, Of all ghostly shapes and forms. Radiating iridescent tones, Glowing in our mutual affinity.
Intertwined, circumstellar discs, Orbiting in the same direction, Migrating together to find homeA sacred tribelet in the abyss.
Shaking off the cosmic dust, Fused into a greater purpose, A bonded nebular cluster –Building new Pillars of Creation, Illuminating the universe beyond.
By: Sah Campbell Illustrations
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Copyright © 2022 by Abigail Winson, Ruth Sellin, Ananthi Parekh, Anna Geier, John Chamberlain, Zsuzsa Goodyer and Sah Campbell. publication or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, copied, reprinted, reworked, redistributed, or used in any manner whatsoever without the explicit written permission of the copyright holders.