Haven
By Elena Bouldin and Noe Topping
Haven is born out of a need: a need to step back, breathe, and reconnect with the world around us. The rush of everyday life at Yale can often make it feel as though the constant hum of campus, the demands of coursework, and the pressure of deadlines do not allow for pause or exploration. Yet, just beyond Harkness Tower and Pauli Murray College lie the busy streets of New Haven; there, we find a different rhythm. Echoes in the rustling leaves on Orange Street, freedom school bells on a Friday afternoon, a business meeting overheard at Fussy Coffee, and the foam that sprays your face from crashing waves at Long Wharf—these and more, create the murmur of the city’s pulse: the clamor and the quiet that we barely hear over the noise of our routines.
In a world that often feels overwhelming, this zine is a love letter to the city in which we live, to the world we often overlook (both outside of and within us), and to the art that helps us make sense of it all. It’s a chance to find connection, peace, and love. Each moment we must venerate. Each moment we must cherish. Haven is our testament to our pledge of accountability: “We will not lose this moment searching for another.”
the hard covers of my book shade my face i read no longer afraid i lie in the grass unbarbed
sometimes love numbs the blades and the thorns we lay ourselves upon crying for mercy subjects to our own self-imposed torture forget to see the beauty forget to see the love our world grants
and then the thorns bend into grass and the blades tickle my legs kissed by the breeze
a ladybug grants me a wish social collapse history now less heavy in my hands
the hard covers of my book shade my face as i lie on my grass bed my legs laugh
beauty and love will go on beyond me
so i read
