The Cauldron

From the Editor

We are very excited to present this year’s edition of The Cauldron. After three years of non-physical editions, setbacks due to the COVID-19 pandemic, and a multitude of other factors, we are back in your hands. That is, provided you’re currently reading the physical copy and not the digital edition. It is somewhat stripped-down compared to years past, but it is here, and it is yours.

The amazing artwork on the covers of this edition was submitted by Elyse Yost. The front cover piece is titled “Interlaced” and the back cover is titled “Lost and Found.” While putting this edition together, we were faced with the challenge of organizing many wonderful yet distinct pieces of literature. How were we to assemble these into a cohesive magazine, with clear lines of thought? Well, here is guide to the forty-second edition of The Cauldron, as well as some insight into our thought process:

We start off with a series of proclamations, “I want” “I want” “I want.” With these strong beginnings, we intended to shine a light on the desires of those around us. What has the world prevented us from taking and enjoying for ourselves? How have many of us been denied the rights and privileges afforded to others? Strength in the face of adversity, resistance, and rebellion opposed to the weight of the world which threatens to crush us. I like to think of our first several pieces as the grievances of our generation.

With “This Story is Unavailable” and “Silence at 3am,” we move to the transitioning section of the edition. “Pondering” is how I would best describe this movement. What fascinating things do sleep and dreams bring us? What fantasies have played out in our minds? What curious events have we witnessed?

Our final segment opens with “Little Red Wagon.” Here, we have absorbed all of our previous experiences. We have raged and cried and wondered, and now we will hope. We will hope for love and curiosity and that the injustices of the world may one day be washed away. This year’s edition of The Cauldron closes with the poem “May I Offer You a Rose.” And though you will soon have the opportunity to read it yourself (or perhaps you skipped ahead and have read it before this preface), I would like to share a couple lines from this delightful piece:

“We embrace life. We embrace community. We work to embrace ourselves.”

These are the final words I would like to say to all those who have been so thoughtful as to pick up a copy of this edition: Remember that we are all on this little rock hurtling through space.. There are many who have come before us, and there are many who will come after. But you are here now, so enjoy every moment you can. Love yourself. Love your friends. Love your enemies. We have to live together, after all.

Thomas Hole,
Editor-in-Chief