6,679.83 miles. This is how much aeronautical distance separated me and my husband for the worst half of our courtship. That same amount now separates me from the true color of my skin, the delectable scent of tinae grilling, the intimate familiarity of effortless tongues aggressively pounding bisaya.
But is distance simply defined by numbers and space?
Even as you read this a perceptual gap begins to grow between us owing to our differing cultures, preferences, and experiences. As Meg Drummond-Wilson quite elegantly puts it in “L’Aurore”: Around here we have different stories to tell about the dawn.
What then are the seeds of non-spatial distance? That which isolates one from the world? The haunting pieces in cahoodaloodaling’s Winter 2017 edition attempt to unearth the answer (and they do a pretty damn good job at it).
I specially requested my dear friend, Julie Chua, to design the cover for not only is the act a symbol of a relationship weathering geographical disparity, but the art itself depicts how we all still bloom in spite of discord, how we all are still connected by the roots in spite of segregation. As we went through the numerous brilliant submissions, I realized that regardless what our distance is made of—be it physical space, diaspora, disability, identity, loss, privilege, or perception—mutual empathy is how we can hope to close the gap.
And so I proudly welcome everyone to this issue.
Wherever you are, whoever you are, remember you are not alone no matter how detached you feel from others or from yourself. May the words you peruse allow you to find a semblance of home, relief, and comfort… even if just for a moment.
Unpack your baggage. Lay your hearts to rest. Settle in your tired bones.
You can stay as long as you like.
Cheers,
Sade Andria Zabala
Guest Editor’s Spotlight:
This Is a Serious Consideration by Megan Merchant
