Ivy Leaves Journal of Literature & Art – Vol. 89

Good literature, like good visual art, is nearly impossible to define. In both cases, we wonder how it speaks to us.

We wonder what keeps us coming back time and time again.

Believe it or not, the answer is not all that complicated. People are hesitant to show their emotions, to actually acknowledge how they feel. They shut themselves off, close their eyes, and pretend that everything is fine. They look at anything but what’s in front of them. Literature destroys that barrier.

Like visual art, it taps into our humanity, forces us to open our eyes and actually see things for what they really are. Put simply, art does not flinch.

Instead, it reaches out with tiny savage hands and grips our hearts, refusing to let go until we take in all it has to offer.

The pieces included in the 89th volume of Ivy Leaves have not been selected for pretty language (although we have some) or for big-sounding proclamations (although we make some pretty big claims). Each piece has been selected for its ability to stare us in the eye and not blink. Literature, like visual art, recognizes we are all on a train bound for some final stop, exposes the dark side of faith, and illuminates the subtle abrasions that can generate doubt when what we want is hope.

It confronts us with truth, shows us how difficult it can be to watch loved ones soar like a plane knowing they will inevitably crash.

Good literature asks hard questions. What would you be willing to do to save a life? What would you be willing to do to escape your past, to not let it determine your fate?

What would you be willing to do to remain utterly content twiddling fishhooks between your fingers under the moon’s watchful gaze? The answers may burn all the way down, but it is the work of literature, the work of art, to allow us to see things we’ve never seen before, to feel things we’ve never felt, and to experience things we’ve never even dreamed possible.

We are proud to present the 89 th volume of Ivy Leaves; we are proud of good work that assaults the senses with simple truths. When confronted with them, remember not to blink. Not to balk. Not to flinch.