ISSUE 09
SEEDS
LETTER FROM THE EDITORS
Beloved reader,
Seeds are, perhaps, the most abundant notion on this planet. They surround us perpetually and exist within us, either masked or as clear as the light of day. When Khaled and I sat together in a matcha-centered cafe earlier this summer in New York City, a seed was birthed and planted right then and there, the product of a conversation about yearning for creation and community.
Khaled Alqahtani is the founder of Ward, a one-person show dedicated to recording and showcasing the art scene in Tabuk, a province in the North-West of Saudi Arabia. Some years ago, he planted a seed that has sourced conversations and reflections on art and culture within his community. I, Fatima AlJarman, similarly planted a unique but adjacent seed in my own home, in Ajman—the smallest Emirate in the UAE, wholly embraced by the larger Sharjah—when I began to cultivate Unootha in 2018.
Our dreams and choices—two distinct but related processes—enabled the seeds of Ward and Unootha to be planted, for their years of production to be sown, and for this collaboration to bloom.
It’s been a minute since you last heard from us—we know—but in this letter, we invite you to join us in our cafe conversation. To converse with us about art, literature, dreams, and community. Welcome to our collaborative summer issue themed seeds, celebrating all the things we sow, we birth, we nurture, and we grow.
We will be accepting and publishing submissions all summer along, and we can’t wait to nurture this garden with you.
Warmly,
Fatima & Khaled
word garden:
planting, revival, rebirth, family, roots, lineage, generation, ancestors, future, archive, sustenance, genesis, fruit, source, womb, ecology, growth, disperse, breakthrough, soil, earth, hands, dirt, country, letter, language, embryo, nutrients, nourishment, water, resist, temperature, life, words.
accompanying questions:
On what planes of existence are your seeds dispersed? How do its products reach and communicate through these planes?
Where do your roots begin, if there is a definitive starting point at all? A letter, a word, a country, a name, a color? Where does it extend? Where does it end?
What tools do you use to sow your seeds–hands, tongue, pen?
Non-Fiction
POETRY
Fiction
As a child, I vividly remember my classmates warning me that if I swallowed a fruit seed, the fruit would grow inside my stomach. When I was first prescribed antidepressants, my mind wandered to that childhood fear. What if, instead of a fruit growing inside me, I grow to become an entirely different person? What if this pill plants a monstrous human being?