1 February 2004

Through the clear plastic sheet of insulation over the basement window, a gray glow seeps in to mark the day. My head hurts a bit, my neck has grown stiff from this position, and something like fog has settled over my eyes to make everything look a little farther away and a little closer, at the same time. This may sound an awful lot like gloom, but it's a warm gloom, a good gloom, the kind of gloom I'd wish on anyone. Good things accomplished; good things to do.

I dwell for a while on the things to come: letters to write, questions to answer, books to shelve, floors to mop, shirts and pants to fold and put away upstairs in the bedroom where I've spent far too little time in these past few weeks.

I've been working too hard, but everything I work on feels worth doing. In one of my paid jobs, I work with kids. In the other, I work with student writers at a university. In the third job, the unpaid one, which takes the most time, I work in the area of politics, news and opinion. That work is consuming. Once again, it's good to return to art. The God Particle always brings me back.

By finishing this issue, by publishing it and sharing it with you, I've nearly completed my obligations down here in the basement. Soon I can go upstairs and take a nap, clean the house, spend time with my beloved.

When I planned this note in my mind, I wanted to say more, a whole host of things, and I may yet come back to add them. But for now I'll rub my eyes and sign off, knowing that what you'll find here is dark and beautiful and mysterious, and worth the effort. I send thanks to the writers who contributed their work, and to the friends who help make this journal possible.

And thanks to you for setting your eyes on these pages.

Peace,
-Eric Bosse