EPISODIC

ep•i•sod•ic [adjective]divided into separate or tenuously related parts or

sections; loosely connected

Some events are larger than others, fleshed with more details, seeming to inspire more intrigue, seeming more fit for a story; but when we focus only on those events we cheat our-selves of the fullness of our own lives. Dig in to the smaller events: those struggle to title, the experiences we tuck away

into the corners, the images we witness and move on from in the same passing instant. There are jewels to be found there. As we collect them, we may find that every day is made up of a series of small, easily-missed beauties and insights threaded

together by a common miracle: our lives.

Episodic

Issue 1

EpisodicIssue 1

Copyright © December 2012 by Episodic Magazine Artists All rights reserved

Editor: Cheyenne VarnerCover Design: Cheyenne Varner

Cover Photography: Cheyenne VarnerFonts (in order of appearance): Code Light, Goudy Old Style,

Great VibesEpisodic Definition: Dictionary.com, LLC

Design and Layout: Cheyenne Varner

episodicmag.blogspot.com

I. Lauren Kristin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

II. Emma Workman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

III. Jessie Roth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

IV. Alyson Fraser . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23

V. James Goodwin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31

VI. Andre’ Wagner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37

VII. Lily Cuyler . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45

VIII. Renia White . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53

Artists

2

Lauren Kristin

2

E p i s o d i c

3 4

4

E p i s o d i c

5 6

6

E p i s o d i c

7 8

8

K r i s t i n

10

EmmaWorkman

Wo r k m a n

10

Wo r k m a n

E p i s o d i c

11 12

12

Wo r k m a n

E p i s o d i c

13 14

14

Wo r k m a n

16

Jessie Roth

16

R o t h

E p i s o d i c

17 18

R o t h

18

R o t h

E p i s o d i c

19 20

20

R o t h

E p i s o d i c

21 22

22

24

Alyson Fraser

24

E p i s o d i c

25 26

F r a s e r

26

F r a s e r

E p i s o d i c

27 28

F r a s e r

28

F r a s e r

E p i s o d i c

29 30

30

F r a s e r

32

JamesGoodwin

G o o d w i n

32

The Momentous for Gertrude Stein

The momentous ofwilted utensils thinks for us. Beyond likely eyelashes a blue-bottle is more towardsbeing too blonde. Tooblonde long enough that I cannot wait toset the soles of shoes on fire. An adorningis twice an insurancepolicy, six times an explosion of yetmore blonde petalsof bluebottles ofstill water. Can a vixen become a natureof the tedious? Long is as long as long enough. The long is long enough. The long is long enough. The longis long enough.

G o o d w i n

E p i s o d i c

33 34

Partition

Sometimes I think thatwater can be more ambiguous than my mother. The way she refers to me is like vapour, the condensation on my eyes chasing my life as if there is something she doesn’t want me to know or see. All I see are bridgesin my head, dams against my skull, lulling meinto the false assumptionthat I was cute asa baby, some woman

in an elevator used to remark.I managed to encounter her for fifteen years. She sounded like my mother.I valued my privacy & thiswas a consequence ofher. Eventually, I couldn’tidentify with myself the more I went to the beach. If I

could wipe away theshit from my eyes, I could be more experimental. What

34

G o o d w i n

was plain in the truestsense was that I was ababy when my mother’s voice& that woman’s voice felt like the company of a cross-legged jackal, with the haze from its Cuban cigar imperious to negotiating Christmas holidays in its study. It wasa perfect representationof how I lacked fibre & protein& scope. An ominous glow

is marching. It was respectful when my mother’s breasts used to ache. She got worse when I purchased a monkey.

E p i s o d i c

35 36

What is New

If ever & when I am apprehend over the porcelain shoulders of original mini coopers, then how can I not be sure of how or if chickpeas will be the solution for iPod 4’s in drag. What is today if my cock becomes dismembered from the maritime arch ways of bronze electric toothbrushes, & some grand piano clutches a wolfs heart during a steeped prayer through an old film night with Alfred Hitchcock ovulating over my Doritos like tax evasion.

36

A Response to T.S. Eliot’s Cousin Nancy

hasn’t she learnt to nakedly comport herself apathetically, the foul-mouthed grace of trampling her modern dances, pertaining to high irreverence & allegory.

38

Andre’Wagner

38

Wa g n e r

E p i s o d i c

39 40

40

Wa g n e r

E p i s o d i c

41 42

42

Wa g n e r

E p i s o d i c

43 44

44

46

Lily Cuyler

C u y l e r

46

C u y l e r

E p i s o d i c

47 48

48

C u y l e r

E p i s o d i c

49 50

50

C u y l e r

E p i s o d i c

51 52

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C u y l e r

54

ReniaWhite

54

bodies in love

bodies in love gainthe ability to count breathshe claims 3,412 exhales since he last calledhe knows it truebecause bodies in loveearn the ability to poetry themselves into closenesspraying with questionsabout how the skywhispers stars across oceansand still an arm cannotreach through timezones

bodies in love shoutforget reverence and understandingonly know the cold of a letter once warm witha lover’s touchsay, “I can peer at your facein a screenbut have you ever stared at an objectuntil it looked like somethingelse entirely?that is where we lose”

the miles have swallowedmagic so bodies in lovequell themselves on kitchen countersfull of meals they cannot eatwith other bodies they do not loveburning hands upon a stoveall tired of waitingfor the heat

W h i t e

E p i s o d i c

55 56

Vocabulary

Mother diminishestakes meals in her roomlukewarm tea in a cold mug

she is a minefield.grandma is a ball of sheetson a brick-hard twinparts her pillowcase lips and quells,

“there is a word for things you don’t understandthere is a word that tastes like ashlooks like bastard hair in the bathroom sinkfeels like a bomb in your handa hot potato in mama’s ovaries”

I am a child in a way that I am no longer, asking,Do doctors get cancer too?Do they die from it?Does anyone ever tell them,‘there is nothing more we can do?’

grandmother’s hand eclipses my warm-skinned mouthI held the bomb for too long and explodedlike mama’s cells

I have that word down nowpart of speech: nounsecond definition reads‘you might die before you get your dreams’

there is a language in hugging your motherthree times a dayin hugging her body before it remembersthat it can die

I’d already known the word “dead”but never “death”tongue rejected the cluster mother carried her deadlike a one-eyed infant

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took up so much space in her armsthat 15 pound personthat 15 pound corpseI could no longer hug her for the fear

learned the word “remission”same day I learned “abortion”she was going to let little sister goa stork flying backwardcome for what will die anyway

remission was a promise jar that knew Shayla’s cheekbonesknew she would be 13 when I write this poemthat mother would have canceras I dog-ear my organs

that I’d look at my breastswatching for high-risestossing myself from city to cityhot potato ‘round a helix‘round a cell‘round a cosmograph

that I would hold my dead on my laptap my leg to make it danceand burn every dictionary in sight

all the world got many wordsall the world got much to saytheir own sounds and speed to speak itand all the world swear they know it alland all the world got their diseasegot a translation for cancergot a sacrosanct cyclops of a wordtheir dead on their left kneetheir disyllabic bombtheir deep pocket mouths where words don’t fitcan’t fit -- only disorderonly symptom and then explosiononly their dead with the cluster hanging from its tail

W h i t e

E p i s o d i c

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lighthouse

she says, “stop calling the man who doesn’t answer. don’t lie next to the man who doesn’t move you.” tell her that this is the poem here. you never sleep in a bra but you do tonight. don’t want to leave anything behind. count the hairs upon your head. remind him that his body is warm as if saying, “that is the only reason i am here.” he makes french toast. the dog lies on your bare legs. you ask why drink orange juice without the pulp. he looks at you like the sun, but what’s a star to a lighthouse? you call the man who doesn’t answer just in case he is lost. what’s a star to a lighthouse? just in case he goes searching, you want him to come upon you. the man who doesn’t move you is just waiting for your sea to part. you eat mango until your hands are sticky. he tries to taste. you tell him to go for the original fruit. he says he will not hold it against you. there is a man in a boat somewhere and you are hoping he finds you when the sea fades into one color and the sun goes black without the pulp. he says you eat pretty. you tell him to wade a little closer to shore. he wants to find himself where you meet. but he will never be lost, girl, you are one of many. the dog lies on your bare legs as if he has seen you before. there is another who looks just like you and you know, so you tell him to wade a little closer to shore. don’t find yourself here. and there is a man who never answers your calls but you do it anyway as if saying, “just in case you ever want to answer, look left and find this womanmade hand.” because, what is a star to a lighthouse? woman can’t blow a star to bits. and one day you have to destroy it all. but for now, you pray he finds you when he is lost, if he is lost. he probably will never be.

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Lauren Kristin is a photographer/maker-of-things based out of Washington D.C. but chillin’ in N.Y.C. More of her work can be found at www.laurenkristin.com.

emma WorKman is a high school senior residing in Florida. She plans to go to univer-sity in Canada for English, and she enjoys going to concerts, watching bad movies and daydreaming in class. More of her work can be found on her personal blog: skeletonize.tumblr.com.

Jessie roth is a sophomore-age liberal studies student attending college in New York City. Her major is undeclared, her passions plentiful and unrefined! She lives to immerse her-self in all kinds of art but especially enjoys creative writing and photography. She is also intrigued by psychology’s take on how we grow up to become who we are.

aLyson Fraser is an undergraduate student working toward a degree Leadership Studies with a concentration in Social Justice and Gender. When she has the free time, she loves photography and painting, and is inspired by the small joys in life.

andre’ Wagner is a photographer continuing to master his craft out of his studio in Brooklyn. Committed to breaking ties with the conventions of the day, Andre uses his camera to preserve sensitive moments of life while studying the richness of human inter-actions. Specializing in social documentary, portraiture, editorial, and various personal projects, he has worked hard to capture a universal truth that resonates in his work. In the past 3 years he has worked with various brands, been featured in magazines and on billboards. More of his work can be found at abstractelements.com.

James goodWin is a 23 yr old MA Creative Student at the University of Greenwich, Lon-don (UK). He is currently focusing his dissertation, the ambigously entitled Phenomenol-ogy of Poetry: A Hermeneutical Understanding of Intentionality in Virtue of the Poetics of Jean Toomer, Aime Cesaire & Bob Kaufman, on how living poetically is fundamental to our way of being. He enjoys writing jazz, blues, language & surrealist poetry.

LiLy CuyLer is a junior in high school from Eugene, Oregon. She hopes to remain in the arts field in and after college, as it’s her absolute favorite thing to do. To her, art is a wonderful way to express herself as well as reach out to others.

renia White studies journalism and English in Washington, DC. She believes in the power of high-rise views, mangoes, and James Baldwin. You can find more of her work at ledasoul.tumblr.com.

Artist Bios

I would like to thank each and every artist who has sub-mitted to and been featured in this first issue of Episodic. To those of you I know, and those of you I have only just recently discovered, thank you. It has been a pleasure viewing your creations and I am so grateful for your willingness to participate. I could not have imagined the outcome of this document if I had tried. I have been so inspired and impressed by the creativity, depth of thought, and skill attested to in the art within.

I would be remiss if I did not also thank Professor Hen-ry for assigning this project and all of his encouragement throughout. I am very proud of the final product and I do not forsee this being the last issue of Episodic you may enjoy!

Cheyenne Varner

Cheyenne Varner is an undergraduate student on the U.S. East Coast pur-suing a self-made degree in Educational Activism through the Arts. She writes poetry, short stories and novels in her free time. As a writer herself, she finds facilitating and organizing others’ creative works both a joy and an honor.

Editor’s Note

To be continued...