Karen Magnussen, 1 Week Later

Poetry by Beckett Stanger Art by Margaret Xun I start going on walks in October. Fog covers the valley  Night after night. It clears my head. I sit and talk with Friends. Songs calm me down. I tell them about you,  Fighting off self-loathing. It is not working. The air is  Ripe with decomposing leaves.

it was the cold

Poetry by Jeff Oro Art by Adri Marcano We’re tired tourists sitting around a dinner table drinking a slurry of orange juice and vodka. Easy on the OJ.  You ask me for a sip of mine,  even though you have yours. I watch your lips kiss the glass under the sheen of the chandelier light.

Filter – revisited

Art by Grace Ko This artwork was originally created in homage to a film called ‘Perfect Blue’ by Satoshi Kon; a sickening tale about a young female idol’s experience in the entertainment industry. The film’s commentary on the sexual exploitation of women in the media was articulated through obscure and volatile imagery that captured an

When Snow Falls into the Caribbean Sea: The Intertwinement of Colonial and Personal Histories in Jamaica Kincaid’s Garden

Essay by Gurleen K. Kulaar Art by Adri Marcano “What to do?” asks Jamaica Kincaid (11). Throughout her autobiographical-botanical text, My Garden (Book):, Kincaid contends with the happiness, vexations, and “series of doubts upon series of doubts” (14-15) she encounters in her garden, grappling with settler colonial legacies as well as personal nostalgias embedded in

Writing for TGS

Writing by Annie Wang Photography by Annie Wang I submitted for the 13.2 issue of the Garden Statuary on the night of the deadline. I had submitted my writing for print before, mostly for fanzines or other small-run projects, from which I’d gotten some acceptances, but also a slew of rejections. Each time I had

About our 13.1 issue + contributors

To everyone who made our 13.1 winter issue of The Garden Statuary possible: we thank you from the bottom of our hearts and we want to congratulate again all our contributors for their amazing work this term! With 28 prose, 39 academic essays, 48 poetry, and 4 multimedia submissions, it was a definite challenge selecting

About Our Team

Thank you again to everyone on the TGS team for making this issue happen! Here is our team from the 2023/2024 year: Co-Editors in Chiefs Amy Ng is a fourth-year studying English language and literature and minoring in Anthropology. When she isn’t obsessively reading fanfiction, you can find her listening to kpop, gaming or lamenting

About our 13.2 issue + contributors

      As the year rolls to an end, we couldn’t be more thrilled to have had such a great term for The Garden Statuary. Again and again we were delighted, awed and challenged by our peers’ submissions. Out of the 43 poetic, 20 prose, 12 multimedia and 52 academic pieces we received, it was no easy

Malcolm’s Things

Prose by Annabel Smith Art by Alex Hoang The blue dress was hanging on Lizanne’s wall across from her bed, the floaty one with the gathered waist that she’d worn to Mia’s wedding a decade or so prior. She would have to take it to the tailor and have it let out a touch if

Three Sisters of Glencoe

Photo by Hana Dekker This photo is of two of three mountains named “The Three Sisters of Glencoe,” taken during my time in Scotland, from August-December 2023. The three mountain peaks (one is not pictured here) are named Beinn Fhada, Gearr Aonach and Aonach Dubh. The photo was taken during a 12-and-a-half-hour day tour, during

Sostén esto por mí (Hold this for me)

Poetry by Nicolás Serrano de la Paz Art by Alex Hoang Sostén esto por mí Antes te ofrecí un dedo.O unos varios.Pero ahora te ofrezco mis ojos.Para que no salgan lágrimasy no pueda ver tu sonrisaescondida o tus ojos escapados. Y te ofrezco mis manos(incluyendo mis dedos)Para que no me puedaaferrar a ti. Para queno

love poem

Poem by Stella Xia Art by J. Sassi x. epilogue / asshole, she scoffsno no mom i’ll still write him a love poemit is not a matter of merit you seebut of memory, or what remains after skinbecomes tissue paperand kneesa bird’scroaking under sterile sheets at least i was recklessearnestloudjust what he loathedjust what i