Introduction
Foreword
Season’s greetings, readers,
I was watching Gilmore Girls on a casual evening in October. I took a photo of the iconic opening credits, with the title backdropped against fierily reddish and rustically orange leaves, on the TV in my apartment and posted it on my Instagram story. Someone replied to my story, “Ahh perfect timing!!! Fall = GG <3” I agreed — Gilmore Girls and all the comfort it brings does make for a perfect show in a season where nature is transitioning to rest.
Except Spring had just begun for me here in Buenos Aires. I was shedding layers and storing my duffel jacket away. I would soon walk under trees where lilac overtook the green and on pavements carpeted by lilac showers; lilac clouds on tree branches—impressionists’ envy.
But in my head, it’s still Fall. Everything happening still uses Fall as the temporal identifier. The Fall issue. The Fall schedule. The Fall events. The color palettes in Buenos Aires clearly disagreed.
But perhaps there might be a reason why things still felt so Fall even in Spring. The imageries might be different, but some of the connotations continued to manifest in our experiences regardless of which side of the globe we were on. Fall as a season of transition. Fall as abundance. Fall as the feeling of nostalgia.
Being at Minerva in the Fall is equivalent to entering a season of transition. For first-years, it was the first time some of you left home to live with strangers (who turned friends very quickly!) and almost everything was a fresh (and sometimes scary) experience. For second-years, finally being able to take classes in your major must have been exciting, especially on top of moving to a different country after a year in San Francisco. For third-years, what are you doing for Capstone? For fourth-years, the penultimate semester added more urgency to figuring out your life in and after Minerva.
This idea of living through a period of transformation shows in this collection. There is also a lot of questioning through transformation in this issue — rage, love, a long and enduring journey. There are expressions of warmth in finding people and connections that might take this transformation with you.
I will never stop feeling blessed to work with all the contributors as an Editorette-in-Chief at Napkins. Fall may look different depending on where we are, but we are all unspokenly united by similar sentiments. And that is so pleasurable to experience during the curation process (especially for my love for a coherent string of narrative through pieces). Almost as pleasurable as watching Gilmore Girls after class.
I was watching Gilmore Girls on a casual evening in October. I took a photo of the iconic opening credits, with the title backdropped against fierily reddish and rustically orange leaves, on the TV in my apartment and posted it on my Instagram story. Someone replied to my story, “Ahh perfect timing!!! Fall = GG <3” I agreed — Gilmore Girls and all the comfort it brings does make for a perfect show in a season where nature is transitioning to rest.
Except Spring had just begun for me here in Buenos Aires. I was shedding layers and storing my duffel jacket away. I would soon walk under trees where lilac overtook the green and on pavements carpeted by lilac showers; lilac clouds on tree branches—impressionists’ envy.
But in my head, it’s still Fall. Everything happening still uses Fall as the temporal identifier. The Fall issue. The Fall schedule. The Fall events. The color palettes in Buenos Aires clearly disagreed.
But perhaps there might be a reason why things still felt so Fall even in Spring. The imageries might be different, but some of the connotations continued to manifest in our experiences regardless of which side of the globe we were on. Fall as a season of transition. Fall as abundance. Fall as the feeling of nostalgia.
Being at Minerva in the Fall is equivalent to entering a season of transition. For first-years, it was the first time some of you left home to live with strangers (who turned friends very quickly!) and almost everything was a fresh (and sometimes scary) experience. For second-years, finally being able to take classes in your major must have been exciting, especially on top of moving to a different country after a year in San Francisco. For third-years, what are you doing for Capstone? For fourth-years, the penultimate semester added more urgency to figuring out your life in and after Minerva.
This idea of living through a period of transformation shows in this collection. There is also a lot of questioning through transformation in this issue — rage, love, a long and enduring journey. There are expressions of warmth in finding people and connections that might take this transformation with you.
I will never stop feeling blessed to work with all the contributors as an Editorette-in-Chief at Napkins. Fall may look different depending on where we are, but we are all unspokenly united by similar sentiments. And that is so pleasurable to experience during the curation process (especially for my love for a coherent string of narrative through pieces). Almost as pleasurable as watching Gilmore Girls after class.
I smell snow,
Zhi Zhi & Dasha
Editorettes-in-Chief
Zhi Zhi & Dasha
Editorettes-in-Chief