Cat on the Ginger Carpet with Playmobil

shephg - Ginger cat on the carpet with playmobil.jpg

By Gavin Shepherdson

Shepherdson is a designer and artist from Lanchester, Durham.

His paintings aim to capture memories and moments from his everyday life as a way of documenting the little parts he might otherwise forget. The paintings so far are mostly of his cat and looking for cars with his son.

His artwork has recently featured in print in Porridge Magazine Issue 2 and Penny Thoughts Issue 9.


By Fanis Papageorgiou

The day A she hung her smile from the sill
and he inhabited the door
the day A she touched him with such a waste
and he dissolved before getting in the grater
the day A she showed him the white of her eyes
and he lost the thread that was consolidating him
the day B he looked at her sleeping
and she got into necrophany
the day B he chirred up
while listening to the knocks of her feet inside the skirt
and she filled the space


If life
had found them
they would likely get into


By Raisa Tolchinsky

why is it that i did not know my no
until i had already said so many quiet yesses

and why now, in a small room, does the woman
ask: where are you still carrying it

when she means, i think,
did you barter away your collarbone for some quiet?

there is never a secret passageway
there is never a quick way into the light

so let me try again.

when stars appeared in a city-bleached sky
i was sure it had to be a sign—

of something, anything, being right.
but if there hadn’t been stars, i would have found a reason

in the rain. if not the rain, then— a stray mosquito, or the glass in your hand.
to exist in an ending for so long is to see only the signs to continue.

my eyes at half-mast, there were so many of you in the
world to keep loving. but smoke is not the same as weather.

to be able to withstand both the beginnings, and the endings,
is how someone once described love to me.

what type of thing is worth more when it is damaged,
flattened by grief?

let me try once more.

i crouched in the grasses,
i set a penny on the tracks.


By Gregg Emery

The works and the world of Gregg Emery are inherently imperfect: purposefully paradoxical marriages between simplicity and complexity, clarity and confusion. Emery uses each of his works to complicate his two recurring forms: the circle and the rectangle. He uses sheer physicality to drag his paint into these two shapes, allowing the colors and individual marks of each bristle to interact with one another on his muslin base in ways that are both entirely intentional, yet also left slightly to chance. Each of Emery's pieces contains a unique, yet often limited, color palette, often inspired by unexpected sources. Derived from his everyday life, a movie scene, sunset, food or even a rusted dumpster.
Through his powerful color selections and movements, Emery awakens something primal within his viewers. He triggers associations both intended and unexpected, allowing the viewer to continuously enjoy the works with their own, ever-evolving interpretations. 
The past couple of years have been particularly strong for Emery as he has received critical acclaim for his exhibits around the globe.  From Brussels to Beijing and back again.  This past year alone Emery was commissioned and completed an 8,000 sq ft mural around a pool on Roosevelt Island that was featured in Time Out NY, the Gothamist and was listed by The New York Post as one of the top instragrammable places of the summer.  He was selected to exhibit in the 10th Annual Governors Island Art Fair, dubbed by the New York Times as the Art Fair of the 99%. From there it was off to Brussels and the Cube Art Fair, where Emery’s paintings could be viewed alongside the work of Chuck Close and other American greats.

3:30 AM


By Yasuaki Okamoto

Yasuaki Okamoto was born in Japan and lived in England, Spain and Canada before settle down in New York who is working on oil, watercolor, mixed media and recently printmaking especially lithograph.

His paintings perform a kind of surrealist that incorporates animals, plants and everyday objects as an icon of a death, life, and/or nature. The artwork is metaphorically based and inspired by his interest in the ecology of animals/insects and travels.

The Lights Go Down at the Angelika

By Donna Masini

and you press into the dark, imagine
the stranger two rows back, that fragile
chance you’ll forget in the second trailer.

Now it’s quiet, still
this burden of being watcher and screen
and what floats across it–light pouring out

its time and necklines and train wrecks.
What a relief to yield to the EXIT
sign red “I” blinking like a candle.

Soon the enormous figures moving
across rooms, the emphatic narrative
arcs. (There’s the thrum of the subway,

its engine of extras.) Here now
the beginning of trivia tests. Warning puppets
with brown-bag faces and fringy hair.

You’re almost here. But what you want
is the after. How yourself you are now
walking into the night, full moon over Houston Street,

at the bright fruit stand touching the yellow
mums. Here you are: Woman with Cilantro
listening to the rattle of the wrap,

the paper sound paper makes after you
have heard movie paper. Apples are more apples.
Paper more paper. Cilantro, its sweaty green self.


 Donna Masini 4:30 Movie.  WW Norton and Co. 2018

speak a straight word

By Afieya Kipp

I am a violently beating heart / in the hand of a pauper / swallowing my sadness / to stay alive for my family because we haven’t got enough money for a funeral / America has taught me / that to be soft is my virtue / and that womyn need access / more than protection / and in the wake of a new / dawning / fiery world order / brought on by the change in seasons / humans have created / with their stiff garbage / is the courage to call things / what they are in your native tongue.