Novus {issue two}

Page 1

NOVUS ISSUE TWO // LATE SUMMER 2014 // GREEN

ECO

HOW TO MAKE YOUR OWN MASTERPIECES

MOVE

THROUGH THE LENS NO STALLING WITH MICHAEL

S TA H L E R

THE MACHINE A SHORT STORY BY JASON GILCHRIST


crowandstone.com


WWW.LEAFLING.HU WWW.ETSY.COM/SHOP/LEAFLINGOOO

01 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


NOVUS LETTER FROM THE EDITOR Wow, the last few months have been a bit of a blur. I've taken thousands of photos, explored some pretty amazing places in the Northwest, met some incredible people, and moved into a new house. After all of that, issue two is finally coming together, although later than I was hoping. But there are some fun and beautiful things for you to enjoy within these pages.

Don't skip past our short story this month! Jason Gilchrist has created a world in "The Machine" that you can surely get lost in! And a beautiful poem by J.P. rounds out the issue! NOVUS Issue three "On The Road" is going to be spectacular! Photo essays from across the country as well as some interesting stories. Submit your favorite travel and adventure stories and photos to the email below!

We have interviews with the creators of Hungarian bag company Leafling Advertising space is now available. and with a young talented actor/ For ad specs you can email us at musician/model, Michael Stahler. novus.staff@gmail.com. We are also super excited about a DIY article by Julie Schubert on how to start eco-printing fabric to create unique and beautiful custom clothing.

03 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO

Thank you for stopping by and enjoy the issue! Lillian Reid Editor -in- Chief / Publisher


09 15 07

07 P. 07 P. 09 P. 15 P. 37 P. 45 P. 53 P. 67 P. 77

53 45

LITTLE LOVE AFFAIRS ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: LEAFLING MOVE: THROUGH THE LENS INTERVIEW: MICHAEL STAHLER DIY ECO PRINTING M A RKET FASH I ON FICTION: THE MACHINE POETRY: GREEN IN BLACK AND WHITE

ON THE COVER: ASHLEY PHOTOGRAPHED BY LILLIAN REID IN SEATTLE

67

CONTENTS

NOVUS


SUBMISSION GUIDELINES ISSUE #3 ON THE ROAD • Photo and art submissions: Please send 4 - 6 lo-res / 72 dpi images or a link to your online portfolio to the email below. If chosen, we will email you to request hi-res files. Please take into consideration how images or art will flow as a 4 to 12 page layout • Written work should be sent in .doc format, maximum of 2,000 words. • If you are emailing us a question please write “question” in the subject line to get a more speedy response.

DEADLINE November 16, 2014 novus.staff@gmail.com

Ready. Set. Submit! 05 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


I SS U E 3

ON THE ROAD

S U B M I SS I O N

DEADLINE

11.16.14


LITTLE LOVE AFFAIRS

PHOTO // LILLIAN REID

07 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


T H I S M O N T H O U R FAV O R I T E S C O M E

T H I S PA G E :

F R O M A C R O SS T H E G LO B E A N D A R E

Leaf bag

S AT I S F Y I N G O U R S U M M E R C R AV I N G S .

|| b y L e a f l i n g , B u d a p e s t

Slim red leather wallet || b y L i l y P i s t o l L e a t h e r, U S A

N o r t h w e s s t B a s i c Tr a i n i n g

|| b y G r e g E i d e n a n d K u r t D . H o l l o m o n

O P P O S I T E PA G E : Lime macarons

|| b y F a r i n a B a k e r y i n P o r t l a n d , O r e g o n

Handblown cocktail glasses

|| b y A r t e c h S t u d i o s , O n t a r i o , C a n a d a

Of Mice and Men/Cannery Row || b y J o h n S t e i n b e c k

Roll top bike bag

|| b y L e a f l i n g , B u d a p e s t

Beaded earrings || b y J u d y P a y n e


ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: LEAFLING

PHOTO // COOPER REID MODEL // LILLIAN REID BAG // LEAFLING DRESS // MARC JACOBS LOCATION // OREGON

09 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


INTERVIEW //

WITH GABRIELLA AND ADAM, THE

C R E ATO R S O F H U N G A R I A N B A G C O M PA N Y

LEAFLING

NO V US

But it's really great to

so rewarding and just

What type of work did

draw some new ideas

drives us forward to do

you both do before

in a notebook and play

better every time.

starting Leafling?

around with fabric

LEAF LI NG

colors, to figure out

NO VUS

I was working for

the how you are going

Do you sell Leafling

a large American

to put all the pices

exclusively on Etsy, or

company doing tech

together in order for

do sell in local shops in

support. Adam was

that bag to turn out

Budapest?

working for a small

the way you imagined

LE AFLING

Hungarian company

it. Sometimes it can be

At the moment we

doing market research.

a long process of just

sell mostly online on

trying and failing and

Etsy and on a much

NO V US

arguing

What is it about making

about

bags that makes you

changes.

happy?

Even so,

LEAF LI NG

it's just

G AB R I E L L A M O L DO VAN Y (24) an d ADAM H E G E DUS (30) a re t he o w n e r s a nd crea t o r s o f L ea fl ing. They l iv e an d w o r k in B uda pest , Hunga r y.

Absolutely everything

such a great feeling

smaller Hungarian

although to be honest I

when you finally

handmade website

really suck at drawing

get every little thing

just like Etsy called

and pattern making.

right and have a new

Meska. Whenever

Thank God Adam loves

product in hand that

we have the time we

this part the most.

actually looks great. It's

also attend handmade


ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: LEAFLING

11 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: LEAFLING

Photos supplied by Leafling www.leafling.hu www.etsy.com/shop/LeaflingoOo 13 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


fairs in the Budapest

there is also a much

started in the first

city center since

bigger market and

place and to take the

there is one almost

more competition for

risk of doing what

every weeckend.

us. Just is Budapest I

you love for a living.

We are planing on

can list three amazing

Most handmade

opening a showroom

handmade brands

artists are managing

in Budapest hopefully

that make bike crafts

their creative business

and have been in the

part time and working

business 2-4 years

a day job. I think in

longer than us.

life you just have to

Where do most of your

So even Europeans and

take those risks and

sales come from?

Hungarians are getting

do whatever makes

more aware of us every

you happy.

within one year .

NO V US

LEAF LI NG

We are more popular in the USA and we are

month, which is great.

NO VUS

really glad about that.

NOVUS

What has been the

I personally did not

What has been the

most rewarding part of

imagine that people

hardest part of starting

Leafling?

overseas would love

your own business?

LE AFLING

our work this much.

L E A FLING

G: Being able to do

Etsy has played a

I would say the

what I love for a living

really big part in that.

hardest part is

and making people

Since in Europe biking

overcoming your fears

happy at the same time

has a bigger culture

and doubts about

is the best!


MOVE THROUGH THE LENS PHOTOS // MARCELA GARCÍA PULIDO

15 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



Tunnel View, Yosemite National Park, CA Previous page // Imperial San Dunes, CA

17 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



Vance Creek Bridge, Olympic National Forest, WA

19 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



Tioga Pass, Yosemite National Park, CA

21 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



Salvation Mountain, Imperial County, CA

23 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



Mt. Hood National Forest, OR

25 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



McWay Falls, Big Sur, CA

27 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



Humboldt County, CA

29 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



Tuolumne Meadows, Yosemite National Park, CA

31 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



Mt. Hood National Forest, OR

33 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



Multnomah Falls, OR Next page // Strawberry Rock in Humboldt County, CA

35 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


Marcela GarcĂ­a Pulido is an outdoor enthusiast and sharpshooter. Her passion is for exploring the beautiful natural landscapes of this planet and meeting likeminded souls. With a background in psychology, she believes that everyone has a story to share and she likes to collect good ones. Through the use of her camera and travel, she strives to capture as many stories as she can.


MUSIC // NEW IN PORTLAND

NO STALLING WITH MICHAEL

STAHLER 37 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


INTERVIEW //

LO S A N G E L E S

T R I P L E T H R E AT

M I C H A E L S TA H L E R A R R I V E S O N T H E P O RT L A N D S C E N E

How did you get st ar t e d i n m u s i c ? I got into music and acting at the same

she didn't want to cut her finger nails.

A re y our p a rents

W ha t a bout E l vi s i ntri gued you? I think it was just at that age I registered

time, on the same day.

musical?

My mom bought me

No, nobody in my

that the girls liked

a VHS of "Jailhouse

family is musical. My

him. Although I don't

Rock," the Elvis Presly

dad is a literary agent

think I knew what

movie and I watched

and my mom was an

girls were really. I just

that movie religiously. I

actress and a dancer.

remember there being

was around 6-years-old

She

at the time. I saw his

mainly

character learning how

did stuff

to play the guitar in the

out of

movie and I pointed

New York.

at the T.V. and told my

She was

mom that I wanted to

in "The Warriors" and

do THAT. I learned the

"Hair." She was in a lot

songs that he played in

of off broadway and

the movie. I got lessons

danced a little bit on

with my sister, but she

Broadway.

dropped out because

that he was cool and

MICHAEL STAHLER, 24 CL I CK HE RE TO L I STE N TO HI S M US I C ! I N TE RV I E W & P HOTOS / / L I L L I AN R E I D

an attitude that I liked, even though I didn't know exactly what it was. There was just something about him that was alluring. We


MUSIC // NEW IN PORTLAND

39 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


had every single tape of his ever. I went on this two year rampage of fanaticism. I wanted to be this person. I remember being depressed that I was born a day after him,

S o y ou ha ve t hi s b a d boy, roc k i n ro l l , punk , c o w boy t hi ng g o i n g on. W ha t e l e m ents ha ve b ro u ght you t o t h a t k i nd of

days of the mysterious cowboy who rides into town saves the day and then leaves, the Clint Eastwood type character. I think it kinda just stuck, I love the asthetic of

on the 9th instead of

i m a g e?

the 8th. I would lie

My mom gave me all

you don't need to say

and tell people that I

her old flannels at

a whole lot. And I rode

was born on the 8th

about the age 7. Ha,

horses when I was

just so they would

no, that's not it. I grew

younger. I think most

think I had the same

up loving westerns. I

of my life I have been

birthday Elvis, instead

think growing up in

playing a character.

of Nixon.

L.A. I did adopt an alter

They are all me, but

ego to counterplay the

just different facets of

LA stigma. I adopted a

myself. It's hard to be

little bit of this middle

cool, I don't know what

I think now, the song

america, Americana

cool is, because I am

“Young and Beautiful�

persona, and people

such a goof. I'm self

from Jailhouse Rock.

started to notice. I

deprecating, so the idea

It's a ballad, only two

liked kinda being the

of the Western hero,

verses long. It is so

stranger in town. They

the antihero, it gave

vulnerable and so

knew me as the guy

me that little injection

powerful. That's my

who comes and goes.

of edge to help me

shower song.

Harkening back to the

get through. I always

Fa vor i t e E l v i s song ?

western movies, and


MUSIC // NEW IN PORTLAND

41 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


leave parties, or where

a pretty steady fear of

because I am just

I am, early. I like to let

people seeing the real

convinced that my

people believe that it is

me, the goof and the

happiness will be

because I am cool, not

nice guy that I am. And

struck down. It is a safe

because I have extreme

as a man, it can be

place to be sad. And,

social anxiety.

pretty shitty sometimes

I don't like listening

to be called “nice.” I'm

to songs about people

a very loving person,

being stoked. I want to

but that being said

hear how somebody's

I contend with a great

it is much easier for

life is worse than

deal of disappointment,

me to love outwards

mine, not better. It is

when people meet

instead of inwards. I

cathartic, music is.

me. It's safe for me to

think that those are a

be sad, to play that

lot of the themes in my

W ha t i s your

character. But I don't

songs, are about being

wri t i ng p roc ess?

want to bum people

walked over.

Sometimes I will have

Des cr i b e y o u r s e l f f o r us ?

out. I don't want to be a jerk. To a girl – whether we are friends or dating, I always end up saying that my biggest fear is when

D o y o u t hi nk that is an “ a r t i st ” t hi ng to h a v e a sl i g ht l y m a s oc hi st i c

an idea for a story, depending on the mood. I took about a year break. That is mainly why I moved here. I felt like I had

they actually get to

t e n d e nc y?

know me. Because

It is a lot scarier, to

and needed some

that whole image, or

admit when I am

maturity. I needed

whatever they saw, isn't

happy. I think it is

something to talk

there any more. I have

called cherophobia,

about. A lot of my

run out of material


MUSIC // NEW IN PORTLAND

01 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO 43 ONE


music isn't personal

imagine. I was doing an

experience and I was

awkward Elvis shuffle and

bored, and didn't write

jiggling all around singing

a song for about a year. I

this song about my sister.

just felt empty for a while, and was singing about the same thing. I was tired or

W here mi g ht you set t l e down for a

it and the people listening

whi l e?

to me were probably bored

It depends on how I view

of hearing the same thing.

success at the time. I

But in the last week, since

would be happy in the

moving up here, I have

cabin from “Legends of

written about five songs.

the Fall” in Montana. Yes,

And that is typical for me,

that is where I think I

there is usually a long

would be happy. I would

fallow period between

sit on the porch and drink

writing songs.

whiskey and play guitar.

H o w o l d were you w h e n y o u rec orded y o u r f i r s t song?

But Seattle has its own draw, as far as a music scene goes. I'm happy here for now. I want to

I was about 7 years old

at least experience two

and wrote a song called

seasons here, so I have

“Mean Sister Blues”

to stay here at least

and recorded it on a

through the fall. After

camcorder. I was a chubby

that, we will see.

little kid, if you can


GET GREEN // DIY

ECO

HOW TO MAKE YOUR OWN MASTERPIECES PHOTOS // JULIE SCHUBERT

45 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO

ARTICLE // JULIE SCHUBERT


We all have them, those

The first step is to collect

old white garments that

the leaves you wish to

aren't so white anymore.

use. Not all leaves print

Or, in my case, the white

as easily as others, and

garments that are magnets

some plants are toxic, so I

for

would recommend starting

those

unattractive

stains! I have learned, through

out with rose, eucalyptus, maple

and

smoketree

reading books by India

leaves. These leaves all

Flint, a magical way to

print well and make for an

transform these garments.

exciting first eco printing

This method is commonly

adventure.

referred to as eco printing,

The next step is to soak

and can give old garments

the fabric you've chosen

a new life.

in rain water. Or, if you

Transferring leaf images

are fortunate enough to

onto protein fabrics, like

live close to the ocean or

wool or silk, is the easiest.

a sea, you can also soak


GET GREEN // DIY

47 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


your fabric in the salt

or a copper/ iron pipe, can

water from there.

result in a more tightly excess

wound bundle. You then

water and lay your cloth

tightly secure the bundle

on a flat surface. Then

with string. Why do I

arrange your leaves onto

emphasize the word tight?

Ring

out

the

the fabric in a manner that is pleasing to you. You now want to tightly roll the fabric into a bundle, keeping

the

leaves

in

the positions you have chosen for them. This can be done just by rolling the fabric up on it's own. However, wrapping your fabric and leaves around a stick, a rusty old tin can

// top //

Bundles of leaves and cloth tightly wrapped around metal pipes before being boiled or steamed.

// bottom //

Bundles after having been boiled or steamed. You can easily see the change in color!

You want the fabric to be as snug to the leaves as possible, thus ensuring a nice even transfer. Now it's time to boil or steam the bundle. I usually boil mine, as the eucalyptus leaves need to reach a higher heat to release their color. If you chose to boil your bundles try adding some


GET GREEN // DIY

INSPIRATIONAL BLOGS •

prophet-of-bloom.blogspot.com iritdulman.blogspot.co.il obovate.wordpress.com red2white.wordpress.com wendyfe.wordpress.com localandbespoke.com wendiofthetreasure.com •

old tea bags or coffee

permeate more fully. I

the fabric in old milk, or

grounds to the water. By

have no patience, so I

soy milk, first. This, in

doing this you are adding

open mine right away. Yes,

essence, binds a protein

color

exposed

it's true, I also wake up

to the fiber making it act

fabric, creating interesting

before dawn on Christmas

like a protein fabric.

effects on the cloth.

morning to see what Santa

to

the

Let the pot and contents cool down overnight.

has brought me! This same process can

I

highly

reading

recommend India

Flint's

books "Eco Colour" and

After cooled you can

be done on cellulose

"Second

either open the bundles

fabrics, such as cotton or

never look at a leaf in the

right away, or wait a week

linen. For these fabrics

same way again!

or so to let the pigments

you would want to soak

49 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO

Skin."

You'll


REVITALIZING (G R E E N I N G U P) YOUR WARDROBE Ask yourself these questions the next time you sigh looking at your wardrobe and think "I'm tired of wearing these old things..... time to shop for new clothes!" Where are all of the clothes in the stores coming from? What is the environmental impact of their production? How much human suffering?

ABOUT JULIE SCHUBERT From early on in life I have

In time I included silk on my

been the 'problem' child.

list of fibers, when I realized

I would only wear natural

that it wasn't really as

fibers.

When

Mom

expensive as people make

would

buy

clothes,

out. Or as temperamental in

and the first words out of

the laundry. Natural fibers

my mouth were...... "what

breathe with your body.

is made out of?" If it was

They keep you warm, or

cotton, linen, hemp or wool

cool, when needed.

my

me

I would give a 'thumbs-up' and eagerly let her buy it.

Instead of buy ing n e w, c o n s i d e r t h e fo ll o w in g o pti o n s! Make your own clothes! You don't need to be a wizard with a sewing machine, I certainly am not, just keep it simple and find some patterns you love. Buy somebody's handiwork if you feel that you don't have the time to sew your own. Buy clothes at thrift shops and yard sales!


GET GREEN // DIY

PHOTO // COOPER REID MODEL // JESSICA DRESS // JULIE SCHUBERT DESIGNS LOCATION // OREGON

51 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



MARKET place PHOTOS // LILLIAN REID MODELS // ASHLEY & SOFIA LOCATION // PIKE PLACE MARKET IN SEATTLE

53 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO



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FICTION

67 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


THE MACHINE

by jason GILCHRIST

A great poison drifted across the Earth. It stifled, in green brume, the multitude of life that was thriving there. Not a single creature would vanquish its insidious clench, their

not

abilities

with

all

of

desperately

working, all together against it. So they did as nature would so often beg of them; they

fled—some

far,

far

away, and others scouring into the heart of the darkest places. They ran and dug and flew and swam, but as fast as they could carry themselves, still for so many, they fell. The only refuge came to be in the deepest of caverns, which few could find, where the poison had so slowly yet to reach them, patiently seeping down to ARTWORK // "Into the Machine" by KEVIN SMITH


FICTION

come. They turned to meet it, its face

smother them. Many more were lost on the long

bearing a circular groove filled with

journey downwards. Their eyes and

angled indentations that hinted at a

ears and feelers were unsuitable, or

pattern, a direction that was so soon

their bodies were of a girth that was

ripped apart and spilled into the

just too wide. Others ran into walls

disparity of shadow, the magnitude

or nearly into the fathoms of the

of timelessness. The cave seemed

hollows as they barreled through

to tremble in a perfect quiet—not

the

snap

a drop, a rattle, a screech—and it

themselves around, hastily running

smelled of stale rot and of burnt

into tunnel after tunnel, only to find

metal, something long abandoned,

they'd never reach a way out.

yet strangely familiar.

tunnels.

They

would

When those that were left entered

As

the

last

of

the

creatures

poured

inside,

into the great cave, an equally great

desperately

sense of disquiet rippled across

succumbing to the absolute dread,

them.

creatures

they felt a powerful lurch, as if they

neglected every thought of the

were falling just for an instant, as if

poison trailing somewhere in their

the floor and the air shifted by their

wake, mesmerized by a lifelessness,

touch from an impossible intensity.

static patches of pale white, clinging

Far off, resembling metallic bangs

throughout the darkness beyond.

that wound and cranked, a noise

The glow was from a starved moss

was growing louder; again and

that somehow gave just enough to

again it resounded. Everything was

see a tarnished wall, rising far and

shaking, the cave and creatures,

aloft from which the creatures had

the skin and dust and scales and

The

shivering

69 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


“

The glow

was from a feathers—They

felt

nothing beneath them. Quickly,

they

looked

downwards, but the air and floor were still there, holding their wings and feet and abdomens up, keeping them closer and closer to the poison. It

seemed

the

had

closed

from

inlet

starved moss that somehow gave just enough to see a tarnished wall, rising far and aloft from which the creatures had come.

talons or paws. Together, the glowing moss endlessly guiding, they

searched

and

wandered, finding that the cave was as high and wide as the largest of mountains. It was carved out as a rectangle, four planes

to

drive

the

creatures into the only

the

earthquake, or from a different

direction forwards. There they saw

kind of mechanism, one that was

the beginnings of strange shapes

just as primitive, just as elemental

of countless metal angles, of small

that moved them into panic. The

and vast sizes, with notches and

noises faded and the tremors settled

rivets, grooves which ran in straight

back to silence. Fear of what was

lines. They rested intricately like a

coming returned in heavy stride.

tremendous puzzle and encompassed

The many creatures peeked back to

entirely this insurmountable prison.

the entrance; the lingering disquiet

For a time measured only by

heightened. Again they swooped

weariness, by the hunger and thirst

and ticked, unable to swim, unable

that was growing among them,

to dig, hunting for a passage that

spreading them farther and farther

had to be deeper. They rammed and

apart from one another, the creatures

struck and bit, breaking teeth or

watched

themselves

sniffing,


FICTION

tasting, wondering if every bit of this

thumps of blood and breathing. The

barren place was the same and had

pain struck as so pointless for some.

been repeating— again and again

With heads pushed to walls, they

the visions, the same empty odor,

abandoned their march, resigned in

ARTWORK // "The Machine" by Matt Pahler 71 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


wait to die, while the others shared

the great cave began to change. They

an equal resolve: conceding to the

could hear a faint grind and a faint

cries of life's demands.

rush, while their thoughts bled for

The creatures, their fears to clench

earth and for water.

and their greed to swell, found

Their panic soon dissolved, when

themselves thrown into a mighty

the creatures were drawn to blurred

battle. The patterns of the hall were

forms of blue and green, browns and

viciously smothered; remorselessly

maroon that paled in masses far into

they maimed and murdered. With

the distance, blotting out the white

claws and mouths and venom and

moss. A damp stench wafted, and the

strength,

they

creatures were running, puddles of

attacked anything to satisfy their

some thick muck spattering beneath

insatiable cravings, dying or slaying

them; they flapped and tripped and

long after their stomachs were

jumped,

heavily gorged.

they had ever needed—It was a vast

speed

and

wits,

discovering

everything

It was an awful bliss, this massacre

jungle that poured from the shapes

they now lied exhausted in. They

as if it was constructed, feeding on

were steeped in so much blood that

the patterns that illuminated, and

none could know who was living.

galvanized by this terrific place—

Still, they peacefully slept, murdered

slimy trees, bushes, streams and

next to murderer, and when they

ponds, hunks of earth and ore.

awoke, the sights and smells cast

Though they came upon something

but a fraction of those who had first

else unexpected here, strewn apart

entered, reeling forwards, over the

and solitary, massive and reptilian,

shapes and over the moss, until finally,

beasts they had never encountered.


FICTION

These were beings, once scrambling

until it dissipated, just as before.

just as them, now bones cracked

They warily continued to build

and returning to dust. Dilapidated

and divided themselves from one

mounds

and

another, claiming the areas as theirs.

rocks, sticks, mud, and unknown

So, in comfort, countless children

machines of metal were completely

were born, the first generations

abandoned, languidly covered by

to know only this baffling cave, to

the fecund jungle. Most of the

be told stories of the long journey

creatures ignored the long dead—

downwards. The divisions held for

some curiously chewing a tail or

an era; generations came, and the

a rib—and again, they feasted,

jungle never seemed to diminish.

drank, but not of each other. They

It would grow and give, and the

took from the life that was growing

creatures thrived. They had no need

among them.

to search further into the darkness.

and

nests,

hives

The creatures happily spread wide

Many years after, the jungle bore

and began to construct homes,

signs of its limits. A war to thin the

destroying the old, together to

squabble was inevitable.

forget the poison lurking somewhere

Diversities of progeny watched as

above. It hadn't reached them, and

they slaughtered each other for a

yet they suspected that this place

single leaf, a single berry, and when

sealed out the poison, protecting

the warring subsided, the pain and

everything within. Another quake

smell, many had already fled. The

trembled. The creatures screamed

cave returned to its glowing patches,

against

sensation,

to the barren shapes set in intricate

could hear the deep rupturing crank

patterns, surreptitiously whirring;

the

dizzying

73 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


“

The Mists

of an age long again their hunger drove them

to

again

they

desperation, murdered,

finding their way to damp smells and muck and chromatic oases, where

past hung

forge new generations,

across the progeny; the smell was of sweet earth and of seared metal.

each time they moved

to tell forgotten stories, face the coming battles and flee again and again and again; the fewest continued onwards, their eyes and ears and noses

to salvation that same vertiginous

more suited to the harshness of this

quake, that same metallic grind,

relentless cave.

followed precisely as their ancestors had warned.

Generation after generation passed this rise and fall until they reached

Hordes of bones littered the earth

a point where the walls narrowed,

and waters. There were odd things

not to another jungle, but into a

with thumbs that held blades to

cylindrical chamber. Mists of an age

their ribs, their mouths drooped

long past hung across the progeny;

open as if they were wailing in

the smell was of sweet earth and

despair. The progeny knew stories of

of seared metal. Gold and emerald

their homeland and the great dying

illuminated the walls and ceiling from

that condemned their ancestors,

somewhere below, and they were

but knew little of the others that

composed of monstrous cubes and

had come long before them. The

cuboids stacked upon one another.

frightened turned back, only to

It all began to forcefully rattle—

starve or hopelessly submit, while

moss shivering, drizzle dripping. So

others stayed in the oases, building

meticulously, the patterns shifted

homes and exhausting jungles to

in a grating crash. They cranked


FICTION

and smashed, cog into gap, slides

steamed and choking, brought every

and turns into incommensurable

motion to a trembling halt.

arrangements. They spiraled above

The creatures grew wary, hungry,

and deeply below. The creatures moved carefully through

the

The billowing air was humming.

chamber,

pressing

concerned only with escaping this lifeless

chamber

alive,

not

the

against the weight of the booming

workings of its purpose. Running to

grind. They saw and heard beneath

the wall and towering plate, they

their single path, extending well-

scoured for an exit and found only a

beyond

some

doorway leading to the place where

great inner-working. An earthen

their ancestors had first arrived.

mechanism of rectangular rods,

They could smell it. Rushing and

larger than those long-dead reptiles,

rushing, they murdered, ate and

pumped and fumed, back and forth,

drank from each other to survive.

exposed and latent. The symmetry

Those that endured met with a

was

slightest

dwindling populous, a jungle where

dimension. With each movement

the cycle began anew with the

of the rods, a circular plate at the

rumbling of the hall. It would grow,

chamber's end, covering the face of

and for a time, they would flourish

a vast wall, wound and slammed.

until the progeny were forced to

Countless intersecting lines that

flee over and over and over.

their

perfect

capacity,

to

the

whispered of a pattern, something

Millennia of living and dying,

recognizable, protruded from the

constructing and destroying, drove

plate. It sluggishly revolved, starting

the creatures round the Earth. They

and stopping, before the chamber,

crept and glided past the quakes and

75 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


jungles, the bones and moss, racing

creatures were lost on the long

by the shapes and patterns, the

journey upwards. They fell into the

chamber, its rods pumping, engraved

fathoms of the hollows or wandered

plate knocking. The generations

till they were no longer able. Those

would forget. Their stories would

that escaped entered into a painful

change to myth, themselves changed

brightness they had never seen, a

to something their ancestors would

poison-less world of odd familiarity,

find mysterious. They ran so swiftly.

filled with colors and clean scents,

The flying and crawling moved to

jungles

walking. They were strong, and

overwhelmed them—the escape to

their eyes saw far. They were able to

what their ancestors had whispered

travel great distances without food

of—and they began to grow wary,

and without water.

hungry, dispersing far and wide

and

flowing

waters.

It

When at last, the greatest populous

across the Earth where they slowly

of creatures to ever reach the

would forget that their own progeny

tumbling chamber together watched

might someday return.

the plate crank and lag. It stopped a short time after and a different

JA S ON GILCHRIST

doorway opened into the wall.

is a 28 year old contriver and

They moved through it, expecting

writer

the direction they were always

who attempts to create things

forced, relentlessly forwards, but

fantastical and inspiring. He is

instead it forced them higher, up

open to all ideas large and small,

and up to the surface of the Earth,

and welcomes them at his email,

spiraling through the tunnels. Many

jasongilchrist2286@gmail.com

in

Portland,

Oregon,


POETRY

Green in Black and White "238. Why is green drown in black while white isn't ?" - Ludwig Wittgenstein Remarks On Colour ________________

A young sea turtle floats awash in evening oils beside our white rowboat black eyes stare unaware of pearled clouds above their foiled reflection . . As the light changes we slip beneath the gray causeway - well beyond the reach of day far Diamond isles arise sparkle and call down to the mirthess souls of men . . We row sounding dark shoals and gently drift our nets over a gulf of dreams where bright Emerald streams flow subdued and deep under the shadow of a young sea turtle . . /jp

77 | NOVUS | ISSUE TWO


FIN PHOTO // LIILLIAN REID NOW GO HAVE A MACARON!


JULIE

SCHUBERT Weaver . Photographer . Eco Printer

tremblinginsidethecocoon.wordpress.com


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