(This morning was the last one I’ll spend saying a sad sleepy goodbye as you leave to cross state lines again and when you return next time, it will be to stay.)
I graduated college yesterday and my little brother posted this on Facebook because he couldn’t be there. 10/10, Excellent Job.
this weird boy I like made me a mix of ~rap love songs~ and I’m currently having a very inappropriate reaction of wiggling/crying/giggling/wondering when I can propose, HELP
on the cusp made our most spontaneous decision yet today in that we’re driving 10 hours tomorrow to dalton’s release party for supernova factory then driving back overnight. we yelled a whole lot and my mom told me yolo (with a :/ because impulsive decisions are against her nature) so i canceled my orthodontist appointment again and off we go into the mountains and through the woods
file under best friends, spring fever, and incredibly lucky
Tomorrow I am going to be sitting in the car with two of the Best people I know, the ones who built this dream with me. We are going to drive 650 miles to a Southern town where a wonderful poet lives to celebrate the release of a book we published full of his breathtaking words. I know I talk about feeling sort of awe-struck over every opportunity On the Cusp has given me over the past year or so constantly, but maybe this impromptu trip is a tangible way to sum it up. What a life, guys. I’m the luckiest.
Today we received the stuff to put together Dalton’s book, Supernova Factory, so naturally we freaked out.
When I stepped into the elevator to bring me to the lobby, where you were absentmindedly pretending to study a painting, it smelled like you. I wasn’t expecting that to be the moment before we were reunited, a handful of seconds where I was tangibly reminded of your linger. How you haunted even the most unexpected spaces for months after we stopped speaking, and in the week or two leading up to this, slithered back into my life though sloppy text messages and things past due. As we walked to your car, I asked you how the drive was and you simply replied, “a drive to you is always a good one.”
It had been over a year since I said goodbye in an airport. It didn’t feel romantic, the painful detachment of two bodies that didn’t fit right, but wanted to. Deep down, I knew it wouldn’t work but I kept believing in it earnestly. I sat with a respected author to review a manuscript I wrote about a trip that would eventually lead me back to him, and I didn’t know how to explain any of it, that relationship. We ended up with a story, I laughed.
I’ve been thinking about expiration dates lately. What happens when we return to someone or something that is already past due. When we trick ourselves into believing that if we slide in one more conversation, ignoring the fact that it doesn’t need to be reevaluated. What happens when something has an end pre-determined. What happens when we trick that ending into going somewhere else so we can just stay a little bit longer. Love always feels like cheating the system to me, eluding expectations.
A week ago I got that familiar drop in my stomach when I woke before you and kissed you lightly and remembered I had to get on the bus again. I got back to Chicago and felt the heaviness, was reminded of how unbearable my happiness has been this semester. I sway in between finding comfort in the fact that a boy lifts me out of that, that a boy can be an unflinching reminder of the good that exists and the anger that means I require someone else to pull me out of the rot I let myself wallow in. I have said a million times these past few weeks that I need it to be easier, that I need to able to release all this anxiety. I told you, this is the worst part and you simply replied “it’s almost over.” That was enough.
But what does that mean? To have been patient for a year and a half. To have waited at the end of wires, to curl myself into bus seats, to steal nights where one of us is always falling asleep too soon. To have hoped for togetherness. Perhaps it is enough to have a break in the cycle, despite the fact that there will be new loops to throw myself through, struggles I can’t predict. For months I said, We will be here until.Until summer, until winter. Until a year passes. Until graduation, until my lease is up. There is an indefinite now.
There is no expiration date, no plotted detachment. There are no spaces for you to linger past due, because you don’t have to be. Present is something entirely new.
tonight I decided to write about a boy and the future and how I am getting very close to a feeling of relief but this is all I ended up with after rambling for a few pages, so there’s that.
There is a time of day, in the evening, when the sun lays its head down in the dirt. Some people call this twilight. But I’ve always thought of it as “the magic hour.” When anything can happen, everything is golden, and I am a boy again. That is the place these poems occupy.
Jake Hurley’s photographs stunningly accentuate and are accentuated by the poems in this book. He is able to capture the magic in the ground, opening it for the sky to rest. Rustic, strange, and beautiful. These pictures will leave you warm, I have no doubt.
In this book you will find stars, you will find birds, you will find hearts, you will find a boyhood doing its best to stay present, and I hope, goodness gracious, you find a little magic.
Supernova Factory is a collection of poems by Dalton Day and photographs by Jake Hurley spanning 49 pages and months of hard work. It features full color photographs, a full-bleed cover on glossy 80# paper, and hand-sewn binding on each copy. $10 gets you a copy within the U.S., and a few bucks more for international. Shipping the last week of April (and onward). We can’t put into words how proud and excited we are to share this work with you. Magic indeed.
Really stoked to be announcing this. Support really talented people doing what they love by purchasing a copy!
~I WANNA TELL THE WORLD ABOUT YOU JUST SO THEY CAN GET JEALOUS~
(also known as: “writing a new blog post about Life” jamz)
Throughout our time creating On the Cusp, we’ve been fortunate to stumble upon some incredible writers whose work continues to make us do lil gasps each time we open up their submission. As we recently mentioned in our Cusper’s Column feature with him, Dalton Day is certainly one of those people. Because of that, we are grinning from ear to ear as we officially announce that we’re working with him to publish a collection of his poems called Supernova Factory. It’s been a thrill so far to imagine all of this work becoming something tangible and we’re bursting at the seams to have his words end up in your hands.
We promise there will be more details to follow in the upcoming weeks, but for right now, we’d really love it if you could spread the word and/or like this post if you’d be interested in purchasing a copy so we can get a general idea of how many we might be printing. As always, thanks for being supportive in all our endeavors; we love y’all so dang much for it!!
OUT HERE DOIN’ STUFF !!!!!
We will be at Chicago Zine Fest again this year (which is Saturday) with copies of every issue we’ve released plus the remaining copies of Almost Home and a BUNCH of goodies we made special for it (including a sneak peek at next issue’s theme~~~~)!!! Find us in the Columbia Student Section on the first floor lookin like dweebs and smiling too big for our faces!
There will be a million really awesome other zinesters there and you could easily make it the highlight of your weekend and probably even week or month too. COME SAY HI
Ask me dumb questions that I can answer in a semi-profound way because I’m out of Degrassi episodes and my head still hurts from reading.