Our introductory note is from Caitlin Downs. Caitlin is an interdisciplinary artist and writer from Lancaster, Pennsylvania. She teaches at the Pennsylvania College of Art & Design, specializing in poetry, rhetoric, post-colonial literature, and intersections within the arts and humanities. A professor and dog parent, she is currently learning metalworking to expand her practice in the fine arts while also starting a new BFA in Creative Writing at PCA&D.

I’ll pass it to Caitlin to say a few words about Issue 32.

Aaron Lelito, Editor in Chief

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Is there such a thing as a perfect line? Whether in form—drawn, cut, torn, painted, arranged—or in language, the power of the line carries through so much of what we make. I have taken many photographs with lines converging on a subject for emphasis. We memorize favorite lines from our most loved publications. A good line delivered well can turn a movie into a fine piece of cinema. We love a well-crafted line. In “Before the Temple Door,” Fleur Lyamuya Beaubert writes of this process through the metaphor of shopping: “as they storm the supermarket of language : so gracefully / browsing : selecting : purchasing.”

Strong lines abound in Issue 32 of Wild Roof Journal. (Plus a few poetic nods to the moon are thrown in there.) All three galleries herein are chock-full of smart compositions. Starting with Gallery 1, Dagne Forrest deftly combines the common with the incomprehensible, writing of “a science column that compared / the density and weight of a tablespoon / of neutron star with something we know.” This pairs beautifully with Robin Young’s collage, which merges cityscapes and botanicals in lush blues and golds, the line between disparate things meeting in the middle. The visual lines of connection continue, like in the torn paper of J.I. Kleinberg’s visual poem “the refuge of place,” which jumps the gutter between columns of text to tell us about trees.

We get many lines holding up the structure of the work: Jaime Rodríguez’s diagonals in “ruta central”; Ella B. Winters leaving breath on the page so that we can see the river is, in fact, running; the couplet dangling at the end of Kamakshi Lekshmanan’s poem; the bluebirld leaving Cleo Griffith’s last stanza; the well-placed white space streaking through Jessica Aure Pratt’s contrapuntal gem “My Daughter Inscribes a Poop Emoji.” There is so much construction to delight in.

In Gallery 2, titled “Forgotten things surface,” we are pulled in for closer looks. Michael Engelhard’s “Heartbeat of the North” invites us into the rich history of Nome, Alaska. This is not the first mention of the great state—Rebekah Warren’s “Midnight Sun” kicks off the issue with emotions swirling in the northern territory. We can learn lessons from the histories collected in this gallery.

Gallery 3, titled “A decade of letters,” includes the lines dancing across the frame of Michael Fitzer’s photograph “Nut Farmer,” which segments into perfect thirds of space. And check out the pitch-perfect title from Sarah Karowski—“self-meditation on how to stop responding to every difficult thing with dissociation,” which cuts right to the heart. Gallery 3 leaves us with a poem after my lunatic heart from Deron Eckert. It’s one last tie back to the many thematic strings woven together in this issue.

Leading lines, sound breaks, the absence of form creating a break through a body of work—all are careful choices on behalf of the composer. Perfection might not be the goal, but the intention is clear. Each author and artist chose their lines, shaped their language, and cared for their craftsmanship. Hats off to Aaron Lelito for bringing it all together in these pages. The curation of the issue begins with the cover by Anthony Procopio Ross, inviting us in to curl up in a chair by a perfectly lit window for a private moment with our reading. Please sit down with this issue of Wild Roof Journal and enjoy each line.

Caitlin Downs