A Dangerous Business

Cliché would have us believe that writers, poets, and photographers rest on public park benches with a cup of coffee while recording musings or snapping photos of the horizon. Wouldn’t that be pleasant? In reality – it’s frightening. Art is a dangerous business.

I’ll admit to taking things a little too far in the name of literature, considering not myself but the story – the art – which could come from the experience. There was the time I leapt into the Pacific Ocean without a life jacket to hear and see the bottlenose dolphins beneath the surface; and then the time I followed a Madison rock band back to their ramshackle house only to order Mexican takeout and listen to the drummer’s theories on Egyptian pyramids.

In each of those experiences, and in so many others, I feel I owe it to art to see what happens. Though, my mother fears I’ll run away with vagabonds and end up in a Spanish prison – but wouldn’t that make a great story?

Composing a truly remarkable poem or story or capturing a fantastic photograph is exhausting. Writing exercises a series of emotions: sadness, anger, love, hate. You must place yourself in a conflict, suffer through and let it go. To capture that original photograph, you must study and scrutinize, climb great heights or crouch until your knees ache. But the satisfaction of piecing together the right words or finding the right angle of an image can be worth every minute of struggle.

Literature and photography remain primary avenues with which to connect to humanity. Art represents one of the greatest ways to learn about others and ourselves. This issue honors art and the artists, who offered their emotions and effort, ultimately engaging and sometimes challenging readers’ and viewers’ empathy and understanding.

Thank you to everyone who submitted, everyone who followed the artistic impulse. Keep creating. Keep sharing. Be safe.

Enjoy the 2011 Literary Issue and Photography Jubilee!