Thrown
Poem by Madelyn Biven; Painting by Julia Cost Cross lines of a highway makes romance bleed, our feet become moonlight crimson echo of the eros between sand and heat (something fine like crushed sun as if the sun could become gold dust). I became a dove and dove into your…
Read articleAbout the Body and its Ghosts
By Julia Cost Tonight I tried to take my daily run but my body wanted to be calm. Not lazy, just thirsty for peace. This is a strange twist. When the body overdriven becomes its own sage. When you set out purposefully on your normal route and your carriage stops…
Read articleAn Interview with Kumu Hula Patrick Makuakāne
By Emmaly Wiederholt, painting by Julia Cost I witnessed hula for the first time a few years back at the San Francisco Ethnic Dance Festival. The lush sensual movements paired with the evident deep sense of purpose the dancers carried themselves with made it obvious to me that hula was…
Read articleForgetting and Remembering
By Julia Cost I must give some context about my state of mind recently, in order to understand this essay. I have been living within a thick questioning season, wondering intensely about what is worth watching… what is worth studying (this is not a new phase for me, but it has…
Read articleStance and Freedom
By Julia Cost I am thinking about this word, “stance”. I am thinking about stance in relationship to perspective, and perspective in relationship to proximity, and proximity in terms of distance from my own normal life/ throwing most everything I normally do out the window and living someplace else for a while,…
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