Welcome to The Lumiere Review‘s third issue. As always, I’m very grateful to our submitters, contributors, staff members, and readers. You’ve all made it this far! To sum up 2020 in one word isn’t possible, so I’m going for three: chaotic, relentless, and surreal.
I. Chaotic
Many of us feel antagonized and isolated in our own territories. Political and social institutions which call for collectivization have become dismantled and disorderly. Closer to home, our desks are still cluttered with pamphlets from last March. Chaos also means “abyss” and in Greek mythology, it refers to the universe before anything else existed. It almost feels like we are trapped someplace else, not even reaching the stage of creation.
II. Relentless
Usually, everyone is quick to lament on how time flies, how it’s already December. This year, I’m not hearing much of that. 2020 has really been a grueling one and even the last few days of the year feel like an eternity. Time and time again, we’ve been thrown into the climax of every school project, family affair, and virtual event.
III. Surreal
We still wish someone would tell us that w’re waking up from a dream, that 2020 was a faux. But here we are, eyes wide open. It’s difficult to reconcile the new quarantine habits with our past lives and even harder to undo this inverted world. The worst part is that you can’t pinch yourself to escape this new reality. The best part is that we’re finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel (hopefully).
In this issue, the writing and art pieces embody these ideals in different ways. They are chaotic, meaning they dare to challenge convention. Also relentless because each one pushes through these challenges. Most of all, they are surreal creations, meddling with illusion and reality in inexplicable ways. ISSUE 03 comes as an enchanting and ethereal paradox. You’ll find yourself oddly comforted and inspired by the works of all thirty contributors.
Even in winter, Anthony Aguero calls us back to the ocean in his poem “TÍA,” an unusual but mesmerizing phenomenon. Jeff William Acosta’s “IN QUIAPO WHERE I PRETENDED TO BE A DEVOUT CATHOLIC” also subverts are belief systems by tugging at our humanity. Cathy Ulrich summons the unsaid in “BEING THE MURDERED VICTIM.” She definitely spills the secrets on everything “there will be,” but also hides everything that won’t be present in death.
As a publication, The Lumiere Review hopes to grow as a sanctuary. If you’re ever feeling lost or too cold, come join us around the fireplace. The door is always open to submissions, and conversations, and we even have an ongoing Writing Contest through Jan 15, 2021. We’re also looking for more editors, graphic designers, and interviewers, so come join this family. Now, I’ll do less of the talking so that you can do the reading. I promise your heart will melt in awe.
Warmly,
Jessica Kim
Founder and Editor-in-Chief
The Lumiere Review