Contributors
Na’imah Bryant (cover artist)
Sandra Nexeus Stanic
Jhane
Lola Braut
Mark Ruel Media
Jada Young
Johanan Viljoen
Zhane Johnson
Emma McNamara
Cody Fletcher
Tyler Jones
Mayra G. Favela
Cheryl Cantafio
Dear Readers,
LetterfromtheE.I.C.
Welcome to the inaugural issue, “Triptych: Things that Come in Threes,” from Three Panels Press! It is with great excitement that we present to you a collection that celebrates the power and beauty of threes in art, poetry, prose, and photography.
The number three has many meanings. Harmony is one thing it symbolizes! Harmony has to do with balance, agreement, and even music. You will find a lot of harmony throughout this issue. Balance in the composition of the work, the way the words flow, in the visuals seen and created.
You will find a diverse array of works that explore the theme of triptych in unique and profound ways. From the rhythmic cadence of verses in poetry to the interconnected narratives in prose, each piece invites you to contemplate the significance of threes in our lives and in our creative expressions.
Our contributors have poured their hearts and minds into crafting works that resonate with the essence of triptych whether through symbolism, structure, or thematic exploration. We hope that as you immerse yourself in these pages, you discover new perspectives and find inspiration within the beauty that surrounds us.
Thank you to all our contributors for sharing their talents and visions with us. And to our readers, thank you for joining us on this journey Happy reading!
Warm regards,
Jhazzy Jhane Editor-in-Chief
Panel 1: Poetry & Prose
Nap of a Star
Can you see me
Hiding in the dark?
Light far from the Eyes who try to find The hidden me.
Brighter beings catch the Attention of those
Looking through the long Lens searching for More than meets their Eyes. Deliverance among Skies of light they cry When the light falls and Dies at their feet. But they Wished from the Beginning for its end. So I hide.
Afraid to see what Embracing my light Will find among the sky
Knowledgeable me stays Asleep even when I’m Forever awake to the
Darkness around me. But in the black painted Life, there’s blues to be Pronounced and reds Painted amongst our Backdrops. So instead of hitting Snooze, the nap is Over and the light I hid inside has time To be just as beautiful In the vast overhead sea. Moons and suns can’t Hold me back from Having you see the Brightness I hid from me Flipping the switch was Always the solution to Light the star you were Always meant to see.
Catching Feelings
Lucy and Ruby sailed the blue sea aboard a cozy fishing boat suitable for two on a sunny, placid June afternoon. The trip was Lucy’s idea. The day, Ruby’s.
Ruby had never been fishing, and Lucy had never passed up an opportunity to spend time with Ruby. The pair shared a birthday, along with a flourishing fondness for each other’s company That day at sea, Lucy turned 19. Ruby, 21. Their friendship, a mere yet dear month.
The young women baited their hooks and cast their lines into the water.
Lucy pondered, Ruby must think I’m a loser. Spending her 21st birthday fishing with me... must be out of pity...
Lucy paused her pondering, her eyes wandering to Ruby’s lips. She swore she discerned a red tint. Lucy knew that Ruby wore tinted cherry chapstick for good luck on dates, or when around any romantic interest. Otherwise, she preferred mint.
Emma McNamara| @author _ emma
Out of the blue, Lucy felt a tug on her line.
Oh, what a boisterous bite!
And from the abyss, a hefty, garish fish!
Lucy recognized the beast instantly. The formidable Feelings Fish.
“What is that?” asked Ruby, subtly sucking on the breath mint she had popped into her mouth while Lucy was preoccupied.
“It’s ”
Catching a whiff of mint, Lucy frowned.
“It’s nothing. Let’s let it go. ”
Alas, into the vast blue sea, Lucy freed her Feelings Fish.
Frowning, Ruby felt a tug on her line.
Oh... what a boisterous bite...
And duly disregarded, a hefty, garish fish.
red blue and yellow
they come in three red blue and yellow and create a whole colour pallet the entire spectrum that we can perceive in just those three colors
can you even fathom that three colors responsible for millions of colors that paint our world in deep pain extreme beauty lonely despair and everything in between how does life come in the most simple package but it’s equally the most complex one the one you will never be able to fully grasp
you mix blue and yellow and end up with shades of swaying willows minty eucalyptus and leaping frogs on a hot summer night croaking the night away
Lola Braut | @lola _ bea _ xoxo
blue and red give rise to a royal purple or to a shade of delicious cold grapes violet amethyst protection that you wear around your neck like some princess warrior from back in the day
red and yellow and you ’ re left with a california orange sunset or a peeled orange skin left quietly on the table leaving vibrant citrus aroma lingering in the room and hanging to the back of your nostrils
you don’t need much you need your cards that you were dealt when you were born and it’s on you to play them well
one two three …one for health one for love
Lola Braut | @lola _ bea _ xoxo
one for imagination you manipulate one and the other card suffers everything is connected and demands equilibrium subtly balance those three things and you ’ ve mastered a good life powerful serene exquisite… …red blue yellow…
those are the elements that make or break our lives they come in three and millions in between good luck you ’ re going to need it
Lola Braut | @lola _ bea _ xoxo
Flower of the Sun
Being surrounded by sunshine lets my light glow on a natural high brighter than any star in the sky.
I’m orange and gold with life as petals fall to show what winter was like as summer ends and spring waits in the wings again. Such a thing of beauty helped me love once more at my core as I sought square zero in hopes of remembering what I was looking for. Too bad I forgot, but as I went on and on, I blossomed under the moon but I still wonder whether I could’ve lived without the fire in my life I guess I’ll never know. But that’s good and plenty for my garden of marigold life.
Closed Eyes
A poem of my admiration for a work of art close to my soul: The Kiss by Gustav Klimt.
I close my eyes, caressed by the winds, Sung to by the birds, And over the water, whether in spring, summer, autumn or winter I am kissed by the sky and its eternal sun
I close my eyes and feel the tender hands of gravity both on my waist and on my face, singing a melody made for me
And of my scars and imperfections, with all my rough edges, stories, longings and silences rises a symphony
I close my eyes and I know that even if I decide not to say a single word, I am understood
I close my eyes and turn my head toward the stars and the cosmos that illuminate my life
And suddenly even in my beautiful dances with solitude, I feel the sigh of heaven that tells me that when I least expect it, By closing my eyes, I will not need to see but to feel, that which pulsates in a single touch, in a single glance, in a single hug...
Mayra G. Favela | @fireseapoetry
In a single hug my hands, my body and my soul are and will be loved
By listening to the poetry that is from my skin, we will be one for the other, together a melody on Earth, a source of light that the universe protects and God strengthens
I close my eyes and now I understand what is true, It is to continue dancing, to continue living in the garden that gives me life, created with my voice and my hands The witness is the heart
It is to continue singing with the birds, loving what I am on Earth, the wind and the water until I feel what I will know when I close my eyes, a power that will make every atom of me flourish even more, together unbreakable, for that is how the Earth wants it, that is how the naked soul wants it, guided by the power that holds everything together, the power that holds everything together: love.
Ojos Cerrados
Cierro mis ojos acariciada por los vientos, cantada por los pájaros, sobre el agua, sea en primervera, verano, otono o invierno besada por el cielo y su sol eterno
Cierro los ojos y siento las tiernas manos de la gravedad tanto en mi cintura como sobre mi rostro, cantando una melodía hecha para mí y de mis cicatrices e imperfecciones, con todas mis asperezas, historias, anhelos y silencios una sinfonía
Cierro los ojos y sé que aunque decida no decir una sola palabra soy entendida,
Cierro los ojos y vuelvo la cabeza hacia las estrellas y el cosmos que iluminan mi vida,
Y de repente hasta en mis hermosas danzas con la soledad, siento el suspiro del cielo que me dice que a lo largo de mis viajes,
Mayra G. Favela | @fireseapoetry
Cuando yo menos lo espere, y cuando vuelva a cerrar los ojos, no necesitaré ver sino sentir, que palpita en un solo roce, en una sola mirada, en un solo abrazo... En un solo abrazo mis manos, mi cuerpo y mi alma son y serán amados
Al escuchar la poesía que es de mi piel, seremos el uno para el otro, juntos una melodía en la tierra, una fuente de luz que el universo protege y Dios fortalece
Cierro los ojos y ahora entiendo lo qué es lo verdadero, Es seguir bailando, seguir viviendo en el jardín que me da vida, creado con mi voz y manos
El testigo es el corazón, Es seguir cantando con los pájaros, añorando, amando lo que soy en la tierra, el viento y el agua hasta sentir lo que sabré cuando cierre los ojos, un poder que hará florecer aun mas cada átomo de mí, juntos irrompibles
Pues así lo quiere la tierra, Así lo quiere el alma desnuda, guiado por el poder que mantiene todo unido, el poder que lo mantiene todo unido: el amor.
It Will Be What Has Already Happened
Our eyes see things, things we'll never truly process.
The cresting of the day at dawn,
The shadows cast as the sun lingers in the day,
The darkness that covers the world at night.
We just move through the day expecting it, ignoring it, rejecting it.
The same happens with our memories as we created, remembered, and left much OF THEM forgotten.
Every moment is an experience lived, enjoyed, and anticipated.
How do we heal from wounds yet to scar?
How do we enjoy pleasure we no longer feel?
How do we know we are in a space so visceral it will always exist within us?
We don't.
Cody Fletcher | @solconan
We just continue to watch the sky change as we look back and wonder where the stars went.
We process our trauma as lived pain.
Even when it hurts with each breath.
Is it our eyes, mind, or heart that betrays us?
Think of this world and what it offers.
May the sun guide you as it rises, Warm you when it wanes, And comfort you with the visions of a nebula when the return awaits.
You will read this, you are reading this, you have read this.
It is all a testament to what left and realizations of what is left to gain.
Find your own expression for this world and live in it
You will be what you have already experienced but that doesn't mean your existence, your history, or your traumas must repeat themselves.
Las Vegas in Three Parts
Tempting Fate
It seldom rains in Las Vegas. The city could set itself on fire. I’ve watched it try. Sand dancing with the sun, begging it to do its worst. When the temperature gets this high, I see the city tempt its fate and ask to burn Sometimes, I wish to burn with it.
Night Drive in Las Vegas
I shouldn’t have to use GPS in a place where I was born Or feel strange when people mention spots that aren’t familiar
I might as well be a tourist in this town of casinos With slot machines in every Seven Eleven
I roll down the windows and suffocate on the dry heat
Watch cones spring up on the side of the road Flowers that don’t need water
Try not to let the smell of Jack-in-the-Box Lure me back to the childhood I barely had
I try not to get nauseous at the thought of the empty eyes of adolescent acquaintances as they pretend to remember me from school
There are bright lights in this big city
But sometimes those are blinding Are deserts meant to feel this deserted
No Place Like “Home”
Vegas is the excitement of hearing the bell on the corn man ’ s cart, our version of the ice cream truck, elotes mayo all over my mouth, chili powder burning my lips
Vegas is errands in the early morning or at night, not daring to go up against the dry heat when the temperatures hit the three digits
Vegas is both what you see on t.v. and not
Vegas is the strange questions I get asked about what it’s like to live there
Vegas is the place I was born, though I never lived there long, so I’m too afraid to call it home
Standing at the Last Judgment
ekphrastic - Hans Memling’s painting
Angels, demons, and naked mortals with their hollow stares
The gilded colors and message vibrant and violent
I wonder if Memling had nightmares
These ghastly panels rendered me silent
The gilded colors and message vibrant and violent
Saved to the left, Sinners to the right
These ghastly panels rendered me silent
Archangel Michael with fates balanced and ready to smite
Saved to the left, Sinners to the right
Demons with pitchforks in the center of it all
Archangel Michael with fates balanced and ready to smite
Only a work so grandiose could make us feel so small
Demons with pitchforks in the center of it all
I wonder if Memling had nightmares
Only a work so grandiose could make us feel so small
Angels, demons, and naked mortals with their hollow stares
Revolutionary Road
My husband does not like to sit on pillows
Or on anything soft
At all
He says he is not used to it
My husband says he is not used to unbiased looks “Good evening, neighbor” without keys between crossed fingers
My husband is not used to friends except for those who just love to say they are his friends
Because it is thought to be woke
Being a friend to someone whose skin is Black whose homeland only prints postcards saying “greetings from hell” In official capacity
Sandra Nexeus Stanic | @littleapartment_art
He is not used to white mothers who do not call the police
To report an intruder at the children's park because the little girl he is feeding Is too white
My husband is not used to a sleeping wife When he arrives home from the night shift His woman awaits for the sound of the door unlocking Confirmation of his safe arrival He lives Only then does she dare to dream
My husband is not used to relaxed shoulders
Forgotten identification documents in a rush
Hands in his pockets
Hooded jacket
Broken headlight
One drink too many
However
My husband is used to the brutality of the world
Callous of the heart
He is used to overwhelming bright lights of this city
Uniforms, taxes, laws, and rules
Wifi and 5G and forms
He got used to old white men whose Ignorance
Intolerance reeks from afar
And vulgar women
Interrogating his wife with inappropriate questions at beauty parlors
As if his skin color buys them a ticket for that horrible unacceptable daily
lynching
Whose executor, among others wears silk gloves
Works at sky high top floor offices
Advertises expensive highlights
Is often a mother of sons and daughters
Whose worth is measured by the size of bra cups
Nose jobs
And horsepower in their engines
Sandra Nexeus Stanic | @littleapartment_art
Nevertheless, At that rigid dance
Of habit with horror
We are all time offenders to favorite trespasses
All our home literature is revolutionary
Our mattress is as hard as a prison bed
Where we laugh the softest
We renew our vows annually
On our wedding anniversary
We never told anyone I proposed first
Under the mango tree
From which he would bring me
The biggest and sweetest specimens
Nucleus of love
Nobody knows That tenderness and complicity
Are woven into our sheets And hands
Of which bones are already formed entrenched to the tendons of each other
And to love someone else
Would be uncalled for Not to say utterly wrong
If there could ever even be
A comparison to such love
Sandra Nexeus Stanic | @littleapartment_art
To Rio, With Love
He kissed me three times
A green-eyed Brazilian with a tattooed map of Rio de Janeiro across his entire back
And the kiss would power down Main functions of my knees brain and self-control
He would tell me
How exotic I am
That my smile makes him warm I did not tell him I was laughing at my exoticism In derision
Although I liked the way my name rolled over his tongue
How solemn he looked in uniform Even more without it
And that hideous tattoo
Although I entertained The idea of Corcovado and Christ the Savior under my fingers
Sandra Nexeus Stanic | @littleapartment_art
He reminded me of a tiger
I wanted to own it
Sometimes I would imagine
A bar and straw parasols
At Jericoacoara
Dark blue longing of Bossa Nova and his sturdy knuckles
Against my waist
Arrested silver around our fingers
Caipirinha and familiarity of his sweat
On the lips
I had imagined the great Amazon river and hallucinogenic frogs
Samba and sizzling nights
tenderness so unlike to soldiers
Mouthful of jaboticaba
Years of tamed winters
Silk after the small of my neck
While he promises
Children, a house
A monkey
For a pet
Perhaps I would’ve loved him
If we had more time
If a real life resembled promises of
Green-eyed Brazilian soldiers
With a tattooed map of Rio De Janeiro
Over their entire back
The fourth time he tried to kiss me
He promised less
Expected more
And I grew tired of imagining hallucinogenic frogs
Eternal summer
Samba and sizzling nights
Jaboticaba and caipirinhas
Silk against my skin
And his
Fall is my season, anyway
I wear silk layered in winter
I don't believe in promises
And all it takes is a shiver
To make everything not enough
To me
Brazil, my love.
Sandra Nexeus Stanic | @littleapartment_art
Crying Out a Universe
I can’t cry you a river
While you ’ re pouring a Milky Way.
Celestial waterfalls that will make a star fall.
I wish upon its arrival
Before I crash land in your hands.
I can see every galaxy expanding, Vibrating in the sands of suns.
Raging against what love comes from When the heart finally
Sees what it wants from the telescope of hope
But when the realization Comes burning down, I won’t forget the sea of heavenly dreams. The cool breeze of angels
Have me in stasis as I freeze.
Three in One Three is One
Since the dawn of time, ranging back to the edge of all mortal ken, humanity has recognized the fact that we have a special relationship with the number three. Around the fourth century BCE, the Greek philosopher Aristotle wrote the book, Rhetoric, in which he proposed the term “Omne trium perfectum.”
This phrase has since become known as the rule of threes In essence, it states that people are more likely to take note of things stated or occurring in sets of three. You’ll see this in a range of modern advertising campaigns, ancient cultural beliefs, and even artwork or literature.
Threes in Religion and Culture
Let’s consider a few examples. In Neopaganism, we see the representation of the triple goddess in her three forms as maiden, mother, and crone. At the same time, these forms are inextricably linked to the three phases of the moon: waxing, full, and waning.
Johanan Viljoen | @johananvpoetry
In Norse tradition, we see the example of the three Norns, or spinners, who sit at the foot of the tree of life and spin the tapestries that are the lives of humans When they cut the thread, your time on Earth is done.
In Greek beliefs, we see the Moirai, three sisters named Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos who represent destiny and preordination. The Romans had a similar belief, but their version was called the Parcae
Even in Christian belief systems, we see the presence of the triune God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Each part is powerful in its own right, but essentially incomplete without the presence of the other two.
Threes in Art and Design
But what does all this mean? Why is humankind fascinated with the concept of threes? Why do we see this pattern in everything around us? Is it something appealing about the symmetry, or lack thereof, that thirds produce?
I’d like to mention one final example, then delve deeper into my thoughts about the rule of threes. If you ’ re an art lover (which you probably are if you ’ re reading this magazine), then you’ll be familiar with the golden ratio, the rule of thirds, or the Fibonacci sequence.
Many architectural structures take their form thanks to the Fibonacci Sequence.
The golden ratio (1 618333 ) describes the perfect ratio that is appealing to the mind’s eye.
The rule of thirds is an almost equivalent form of composition and spacing, but is slightly less exact than the golden ratio and therefore easier to implement. The Fibonacci sequence is when the golden ratio is continuously repeated within a pattern a famous example being the shell of a nautilus.
Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa fits perfectly within the golden ratio, through either the use of spirals or rectangles.
Johanan Viljoen | @johananvpoetry
Why are Threes so Attractive?
But now back to the why Why are we, as humans, so attracted to the number three, and patterns thereof?
It is my firm belief that, in our subconscious minds, humans recognize the fact that there is no completion in either the singular or the plural form. Until the last few centuries, few cultures required people to set such a rigid standard for who and what they were that they felt constricted to be only those things.
If you look at any of the examples mentioned above, you will find that there is completeness only in the union of the three elements. Whether it’s mind, spirit, and body, subconscious, conscious, and superconscious thought, or the perfect blend of three colors, it is only in the amalgamation of all these parts that completion is found.
In Neopaganism, we see three phases of the goddess, three moon phases that are also linked to the tides of the ocean, with differing phases and seasons in our lives. In Christianity, we see that, “A three-strand cord is not easily broken ” We also see that the Godhead consists of a Father, a Savior, and a Comforter.
No matter which belief system, culture, or artform you look at, the rule of threes is so deeply ingrained that it is inextricable from many of the other beliefs When we open our ears to hear, we can hear the echoes of our forebears, and their forebears, even of cultures long lost to us, ringing out the importance of threes.
What if the one warning they’ve been ringing out is the only one we ’ re not hearing Today, we live in a society that tries to define us rigidly as one thing. All the time we hear, “I am a poet,” or “I am a businesswoman,” or “I’m not much, just a mom. ”
When did we lose the sense of fully being what we are? Today, I give you permission. Whether it takes three things to fulfill you, or three sets of three, go be who you are. Whether that’s a writer, a businesswoman and a wife, or an artist, an entrepreneur, and a father, you were not born to be one single thing.
The threes are everywhere, and they are in you, too. Don’t be afraid to let them out.
Johanan Viljoen | @johananvpoetry
Panel 2: Photography & Art
“The Tyler Set”
Na’imah Bryant | @naimahfaatin
“Seal’s Beloved Roses”
Young | @Jadaariyelle
Jada
“Bertha Antoinetta Cosway Mason Rochester, on her wedding day”
“Bertha Antoinetta Cosway Mason Rochester, on her wedding day”, 2024; acrylic, fabric, mesh, modelling paste, (140 cm x 124 cm)
Sandra Nexeus Stanic | @littleapartment art
“The Crowded Room”
Sandra Nexeus Stanic | @littleapartment art
'The Crowded Room, 2023. 58" x 50* (148 cm x 127 cm) oil pigments, acrylic on duck canvas.
“Islander”
Sandra Nexeus Stanic | @littleapartment art
"Islander", 2023. Silk, cotton, jute, rope, acrylic on duck canvas. 58" L x 61.5* H (147 cm x 156.2 cm)
“ 3 Perspectives”
Mark Ruel Media | @markruelmedia
“Street Hearts”
Lola Braut | @lola bea xoxo
Panel 3: Ekphrastic Poetry on Hieronymous Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights
About Bosch’s Painting
Hieronymus Bosch's "The Garden of Earthly Delights" is a triptych painting created around the year 1500. It's a highly intricate and enigmatic work that has fascinated viewers and art historians for centuries. Here are some key aspects of the painting:
1. Triptych Format: The painting consists of three panels.
2. Central Panel - Earthly Delights: The central panel portrays a lush and colorful garden filled with a multitude of human figures, animals, and imaginative creatures engaged in various activities. These scenes depict a surreal and hedonistic vision of pleasure and excess.
3 Left Panel - Paradise: The left panel depicts the biblical Garden of Eden, showing Adam and Eve and other creatures in a harmonious and idyllic setting before the Fall. It contrasts sharply with the chaotic and frenzied central panel.
4. Right Panel - Hell: The right panel depicts a nightmarish vision of Hell, filled with torturous scenes and monstrous figures. It serves as a stark warning against the sinful excesses depicted in the central panel, suggesting the consequences of moral corruption and indulgence.
In the Garden
Ekphrastic - Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delight
1) Naivety is bliss, whether inherent or chosen as a mechanism to cope. Life is sweet when being naked isn’t scandalous. It’s the way of life. When we relish in the beauty of the world, nature, each other, and ourselves, the short days feel long and filled with laughter, pleasure, and joy.
2) We are no longer naïve. Ignorance became less blissful. Every day became mundane and we needed more to sustain our lust for life. We sought out more. Grew hungry. Began to feed the flesh, and then the flesh fed on us until even our bones were drenched in sin. Our long days grew shorter. Damned.
3) And then we are left with darkness The sky above blanketed in it. The world we got to rule over now rules us. Everything is unnatural. We long for the days we didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. Didn’t long for anything more than everyday simplicity. We continue to reap what we sowed from our sin. And we bathe in eternal darkness.
An Earthly Delight
ekphrastic - Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delight
The garden no longer pure
Once protected
The moon and pristine skies
Now a perilous place
Scattered in guilty pleasures
Where temptation congregates
Only to remain hostage
In a place of restlessness
A place stripped naked
Discarded from the vegetations of peace
Eve could’ve prevented by obeying
Now they feast in greed
Leaving the world once known to them
Repainted red
Accompanied by skies masked in black
JHAZZY JHANE, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
JOHANAN
LOLA BRAUT, CO-EDITOR
VILJOEN, CO-EDITOR, CO-DESIGNER
MORGANA FAYE, DESIGNER
GOOD THINGS COME IN THREES
