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works for a post-pandemic world.





personal moments of growth & reflection

Sink! by Scarz

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Always Be Wanting
by Russel Niessen

Photos by Scarz


Graphic by Cassidy Swanston

Always Be Wanting
by David Faulkner-Rundle

This Will Not Pass
by Paul Daniel-Torres

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Is There A Vaccine for Racism?
by Rebecca McLaren

by Margot Greve (feat. Ben Kopp)

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by Camille Intson (Above & Below)

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***Click THIS LINK to access Positively Positive's Blog post: "Dating politics as a black, queer, HIV+ since birth, aromantic and asexual: Navigating my place in the romance world."***

***For more of Positively Positive's work,  please refer to their YouTube channel, linked HERE.

I wish I was... by Darija Stipanić

Screenshot in Greyscale:
Talking With Grandpa (Above)


The To-Un-do List
by Bridget Odette

"I wrote this poem and took these photos within the first month of lockdown shortly after completing my undergraduate degree. After four years of being so tightly regimented and scheduled, I found it difficult to then suddenly have nothing to do; to find myself facing all the anxieties that I had so desperately tried to hide away from since graduating high school. So, I made my own kind of check-list in poetry form in order to remind myself of the important things: no matter how monotonous the days have become, I still have the ability to write, craft and inhabit new worlds while also learning how to be gentle with myself. I hope I can remember that long after this is over."

“I have always loved writing; ever since I can remember I have found comfort in written words. Growing up (though my tongue was well-trained in the art of sitting still) my hands were always restless: scrawling couplets in the margins of my math workbook, flipping fervently through the pages of my favorite books. Though I always felt a little out of step with my peers, I felt perfectly at home in fantasy worlds, - whether they were daydreamed, spun between the binding of the novels I so loved, or bloomed in the carefully concealed contents of my own notebooks.

A favourite pastime of mine was to write about my life as I wished it was. In these stories, my dark hair would turn blonde, my eyes would lighten to blue, and my coloured skin would become pale. I envied – even sought out – friends with fair complexions, as if I could somehow catch the qualities that made them white. It is difficult to admit how desperately I wished I was white, but at the time it was simple to me… obvious, even: embracing whiteness was the way I would feel less out-of-step, less Othered by the world around me. I wanted whiteness the way we want water – often unconsciously, but sometimes with a painful and raw awareness.

These days, I am still learning to worship the skin I wear. Particularly over the course of the last few months, I am learning the power of words – the words I so adoringly clung to as a child – to not reflect the world we live in, but actively create it. The words I used to turn to for comfort are lifting from the silence of the page and dancing their way into my vocal cords. Now more than ever before, I am learning the power of being vocal – the power of being an advocate, and the power of making visible the pain and confusion that comes from growing up in coloured skin before a world that privileges paleness.

I can feel the words that used to lie quiet and docile in the corners of my notebook rising to burn on my lips. If there is anything I can pass on to a future generation, let it be this: the words we use can recreate our world. Do not underestimate their power.”

by Ziyana Kotadia

by Asha Sivarajah 

by Jill O'Craven

Bloom! Pantheon Projects Digital Submiss

by Cassandra Di Felice

What I'm Learning...

by Olivia Costes

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choices (+ photos above, left)

by Seairra Nemecek

I step outside and worry

I stay inside and worry

can I reconcile?


I have been given time

will I change?

I have taken time

will we change?


filling up the empty spaces

we can no longer breathe

control, patience, togetherness

today creates tomorrow


I choose to fill my space

when I can breathe again

I choose refection over change

when space is ours to take


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