The change of season brings emergent life from the apparent deadness of winter, and with it the reminder that we, too, might emerge—perhaps from the darkness of our own souls—to walk in the light and imagine again that more is POSSIBLE. This issue of Kindred includes poetry, song, and essays, many of which wrestle with clinging to hope in depression or disappointment. We hope you find here a place to be renewed, to be inspired, and to discover that you’re not alone.
Contributors include: Essays by Marissa Niranjan, Lisa Etter Carlson, Jacqueline Viola Moulton, Barry Wilder, Deborah Pless, Elaine Hutchison, and E. Lynn Heinisch, an original song by The Opiate Mass, and poetry by Jamie Maciejewski and Becca Lavin.
SCOTT ERICKSON is our featured artist this issue. Scott is a touring painter, performance artist, and creative curate who mixes autobiography, biblical narrative, and aesthetics to create art that speaks to our deepest experiences. Scott lives in Portland, Oregon, with his wife and three children. 
Ellipsis
The laughter filled the car so abruptly that it almost felt like a foreign language. They had been at each other since we got off of the ferry. Pokes turned into jabs and jabs escalated into full-blown verbal punches. Stolen toys, who got more jelly on their toast hours before, sideways glances, seat kicking, elbows…
The impossible possibility of leprechauns
A photo of me sits on the corner of my desk, a photo in which my five-year-old self looks smilingly into the sun of some 1960 summer morning, certain that anything was possible. I look at this photo and think that this younger me was right. It has taken decades to return to that truth,…
Possibilities
If you are a human being it is possible that: you will make a mess of things, multiple times you will find yourself on top of Mt. Kilimanjaro someone you love will break your heart, crush your spirit, and make you forget who you are for awhile you will water ski on perfect, glassy…
Pittsburgh
At night I dream of Pittsburgh. I dream of a small studio apartment with a single jug of milk in the fridge, of a spring mattress and unmade sheets, and of a cat waiting by a half-full water dish. Of shades drawn and flickering shadows cast across the nighttime floor as I stumble through my…
Magnificat
The Opiate Mass is releasing an Easter album. This song is a piece based on the biblical text of Mary in the book of Luke. It’s a sacred piece, full of possibility. Enjoy listening to the song and reading the lyrics below. LYRICS Anima mea magnificat dominum My soul proclaims your greatness, O…
Now for the LoVeWork
Remember what it was like before you became Roommates with responsibilities Brother and sister Bickering under your breath We can hear you We can see you We hurt for you And we always LoVe You I think if you touch one another In more ways than one Physically, emotionally and spiritually (LoVe is…
Dazzling and cruel
In Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard writes of a patient who was blind since birth but can now see after cataract surgery. There were significant anomalies in their perceptions of space and time. Someone who was trying to learn how to use his new skill would take off one of his boots and throw…
A depressed Sisyphus* watches The Sopranos in bed
*Sisyphus, from the Greek Myth, was a king charged with the eternal punishment of endlessly pushing a boulder uphill, a boulder which would only, once it got to the top, roll all the way back down again. A just keep swimming mantra of old times. Albert Camus, that philosopher of the absurd, imagines Sisyphus not…
When the impossible seems possible
I often doubt myself. Am I smart enough? Am I a good mom? Am I good at my job? Am I a good friend? Am I a good daughter, sister, wife? As trying as this last year was for me, it was a building year: of friendships, family, life, and myself. In July 2018, I…
Hands
It was not old, as trees count years, when it succumbed to disease or gravity or storm. I found it lying on the beach at the base of a cliff, its naked frame silver and black. Worn root stumps reached from the butt, fingers scoured away by surf and time. I spied a stone grasped…
When the light is gone
As a man who walks daily with depression and anxiety, I often find myself in the darkness wondering what happened to my life. Dreams and possibilities seem to have fled into a yawning cavern of disappointment and meaningless loneliness. Reality reverberates with a cacophony of anxious voices echoing despairingly in my soul. It is from…
Kindred 