In between the end of something, and the start of something new, there is a moment of stillness and silence, a brief pause which doesn’t quite get completed when the next cycle swiftly begins. Whether it’s changing gears in a car, a breath taken whilst singing or dancing, stopping to check if the structure of a piece looks alright while writing or painting, or even a break in gunfire in war— when something is on the brink of beginning, there is a sort of peace made heavy by something deep brewing.
While coming up with the theme for this issue, the team had to toss around the topic a few times to get comfortable with it. We weren’t exactly sure what we wanted the issue to look like, but we were open to exploration, open to trying out something more different and difficult than our usual, eager to restart the process of creativity after a particularly lengthy exam break. When we finally did announce the theme, we felt the same anticipation we do every time we start another phase of issue-making. That is what inchoation is about—expectation, trepidation, and all else which exists the moment something new is about to happen, something which is rudimentary in its form but can become much greater.
In our lives, we come across many of these moments, both from a personal standpoint and a larger societal standpoint, each of which impact us in different ways, but are heavily interlinked. More often than not, society has a tendency to affect our choices, and vice versa— our actions, regardless of how small they may seem, can leave an impression on the grand scheme of things. Even creations are included in this ambit, initiatives or ideas which are, at the time, formless or incoherent, but expected to be of great importance once finished to the creator and the consumer.
I write this while standing on the brink of one such moment, between the end of school and the beginning of college. I can confirm that life has a lot less structure without something constantly going on (I’m not catching a bus at 7:30 a.m. anymore, nor am I running from the staff room to my class to the computer lab to get some work done), and while it is chaotic to an extent for someone who prefers having a schedule like me, it’s also given me some time to regenerate before starting it all again later in the year. While studies for entrances continue, I’m able to focus more on my fitness and my sport and spend more time with friends and family. It’s fulfilling and necessary in its own way— but it will not last, and I don’t want it to, either. There is a purpose to existence, which each person must figure out on their own, which isn’t fulfilled by idling around—but at the same time, these little periods before the start of something new are critical to maintaining a balance.
The issue is filled with beautiful pieces which encompass the expanse of that small pinpoint between ends and beginnings. Read brilliantly structured poetry, admire art which touches the soul, and appreciate fantastic photography as you peruse this expanse yourself.
When you wake up tomorrow, take some time to breathe, prepare yourself for the day mentally, and be at peace for a minute or two— the day will feel long and short at the same time, and you are more than ready for it.