There’s a time early in the morning before the sun comes up where the world is so quiet, so still, that it actually seems possible that nobody has ever existed here at all. As we get older we learn there are brief moments like this in which we are made distinctly aware of our solitude—moments when we fold clothes or drive to work—moments when we find ourselves alone scrubbing the bathtub clean with an old toothbrush. Moments which we know, somehow, will be contrary to the day’s expectations. While the thinking we do during this time is not always enlightening or comforting, these thoughts often strengthen our ability to reflect on the lives we’ve created and the stories we hold dear.
Joan Didion wrote that “Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant.” The authors in this issue have expressed the changes, sadness, and joys of our everyday lives with extraordinary grace. They have been unafraid to communicate with themselves in a familiar but separate space about the remarkable ways in which the ordinary, mundane aspects of our experiences change and transform us. They have been unafraid to acknowledge how often the predictable, reoccurring parts of our lives are able to shock and obscure us.
The pieces in this issue have given Hannah and I a new way of entering the parts of our lives we spend alone. They have given sound to the quiet minutes we spend with ourselves and given us hope that who we are and what we are making might be understood. We hope they do the same for you.
With warmth,
Hannah Newman & Jesse Ewing-Frable
Sweet Tree Review