Make us sweat.

Heat lingers, biting at the edges. The warmth that turns to warning. Overindulgence, a little bit of hedonism. You end the day blistered, raw, red. Humidity rises, sweat collects in the small of your back, ice cream cones melt over sticky hands.

Sunburn is the aftermath of exposure - the sear of memory, the flush of longing, the tang of something too sharp to swallow but too tempting to quit. It's golden hours that overstay their welcome, haze over hot asphalt, the bracing cold of the ocean, and the kind of heat that leaves a mark.

For this issue, we sought visual art, fiction, and poetry that smolders. Work that radiates warmth then bites back. We wanted art that glows and glistens, stories that shimmered with heat and consequence, poems that tasted of sweat, citrus and salt. We wanted the heat, the sting, the lasting imprint.

Although I was trained as a painter, I haven't picked up a paintbrush in over 2 years. It feels daunting at times. All the time, actually. Recently, in an effort to relieve some of my guilt and motivate me to get back into it, I picked up my film camera and decided to capture elements of my surroundings that most resemble my painting style. I figured, it's easier to relate to something that already exists rather than try to fight the blank slate - kind of like doing a song cover instead of an original.

In this diptych, I recount the emotional turmoil one faces when they find themselves taking a step back in their personal growth. While we may fall back into familiar, unhealthy habits and patterns associated with unpleasant memories, the introspective work that follows the initial guilt gives us enough perspective to understand that we've outgrown that past version of ourselves.

While that knowledge is comforting, new uncertainties set in as we accept to keep moving forward towards the unknown, and ask ourselves, "where do I go from here?"