Note from the Editors

“Now, the ground tilts differently. My feet slip / as the earth loosens from the topography of my own / remembering. Typhoons have rehearsed its erasure, stripped / the ground of its soil, stitched silence into its bark.” — “After the Rain” by Hanyi Zhou.

We are constantly caught between a struggle of erasure and preservation. We efface and protect in our everyday lives, like leaving fading tire tracks on the road after a drizzle, or carving snippets out of a magazine for a scrapbook, or the layers of etched, scrawling boredom on a school’s desk. These moments expand out into the broader arc of human history. From the Berlin Wall to Ellis Island, from Rome to Constantinople, the ebb and flow of human nature, architecture, and regimes have dictated the fates of countless cities and communities. Even the ceaseless forms of nature are constantly swaying between consuming and preserving—the scarred tree from a wildfire transforms into petrified wood, the river eats away at rock to pave its course, a continent breaks apart, yet the wildlife still survives.

That overwhelming scale is what we’re trying to encompass in Aster Lit’s Issue 16. Out of the almost 500 submissions we received from over 30 different countries, many pieces touched upon heritage and personal family history, as generations folded themselves into their own palimpsest. Other common themes were echoing patterns across millenia and the possibility of alternate realities. The 25 pieces of writing and artwork we are proud to present also reflect similar ideas, whether it’s the recollection of little moments in life that permeate our present reality (“Where I’ve been:” by Joanne Zhang), or explorations of evolving relationships over time (“Mass” by Quentin Lobenstine). We read social critiques (“Elegy for a World That Already Ended” by Alesha Khan) and erasure in reference to global crises or groups of people (“Exodus” by Daniel Aondona, “SINOPHONIA” by Tiffany Tang, “Heo-nae” by Cassidy Law). We found palimpsest through a daily routine (“The 5:47 AM Body” by Paola Lee), in the muscle memory acquired while cooking childhood dishes (“untitled” by Annie Yang), and the captured stillness within photography (“Kodak Gold” by Ben Moore).  

Issue 16 particularly resonates with us as we officially onboard our interns from our summer internship. With every year, Aster Lit bids goodbye to retiring members and invites the new. We, ourselves, are constantly in motion as we cycle through issues and mastheads. Yet we still strive to maintain the core of what Aster Lit is about: international appreciation in the mundane and the extraordinary, whether it’s a friend’s annotations in a book, childhood landmarks, or scientific discovery. 

We are so honored to have the opportunity to read your writing, a record of your pathbreaking footstops overlapping the old. Through your words, we are reimagining our personal and shared experiences and revisiting the monuments of our pasts. 

So, lovely Asterisks, keep trekking through your metaphorical and literal reality. Take our hands and show us what you find beautiful and devastating. Thank you for allowing us to witness your journey. Thank you for your storytelling. 

Follow us on Instagram (@aster.lit) for more literature, artwork, and cross-cultural connections, and send us more of your work once submissions open!

We love you. Your voice matters. Keep telling stories.

With all our love,

the Aster Lit Team