PURSUIT
ANNE BENNET, MILES URBAN, TAE WEISS, LUCY FRAME, ELLA SPITZ, ADELINE HUME, SOPHIA HALL, VIOLETTE STEVENSON, SARAH LIU, ANYA HEIDEN, ISAIAH ROSENN
Just a Few Thoughts, not necessarily connected.
Siri and I founded Imber in my senior year of High School. I was roaming the mountains of Colorado, with best friends I haven't seen since.
I don't think I would have guessed that two years later I would still be here. I have chipped away at this issue throughout the last couple of months. Meagerly I admit. And it doesn't feel like it has reached its point of completion, entirely, but that's okay. I had wanted to do a print edition and now I don’t think I am making it that far. Next time!
Since forever, people have been my convoys in the way of staying true. In returning to New York City this summer, the city that raised me, while the smells and heat hung in a cloud as I walked city blocks, I could feel my being collecting imprints of those that passed by me. My sense of self taking new form. An embalmment of the collective.
Who I am will never be one thing. If I have learned anything so far let it be the greatness of remaining open. To that I am faithful.
Something I have recently pondered is the way in which my art has been touched by the internet. It feels as if it has left an indelible mark on my thoughts and instincts, both informing and tainting my own creations. I have surrendered to this fact, even throwing my own artistic endeavors into the void.
My mom and I had a conversation about art and the nature of sharing that art. It can feel like a personal thing. To create something with your mind and your hands means it can be just yours for however long you want. But when we share what we’ve made, this thing that was once yours, takes on a new life. Your vision becomes a figment and your art becomes its own.
Thank you to the contributors and thank you for reading.
Tae
Biding
Time stands between us and and breathes
our warmer days into bitter years. Stagnant
but longing — like public pools in May
waiting for early June
- Anne Bennet
Shallow End
Miles Urban
Waiting Room by Lucy Frame
This series of eight photos was taken the week my grandpa had major heart surgery. A week weighed down by difficult conversations, medical tubes, restrained tears, forced smiles, conflicting feelings, and endless hours of waiting. Instead of taking pictures of the hospital, I chose to look at the space where I spent the most time waiting for word of my grandpa’s condition, my aunt’s house. The emotions we struggled to express seeped into the walls, the furniture, the collected trinkets, and reflected outwards. The beds mocked me. How can a place intended for peace, hold so much pain and discomfort? The week felt like a deep breath inhaled and held for the duration of this period. My surroundings held with me.
Flood, July 2024
Still, July 2024
Golden Child, July 2024
Until the Water Runs Clear, July 2024
Untitled, July 2024
Patient, July 2024
Patient 2, July 2024
Paper Thin Walls, July 2024
Sad Moody Doomsday Commute
Ella Spitz
This was the summer
my right hand said to my left,
“Boy, do I’ve got a hangnail with you.”
My skin got dryer and greener
like the spots near the tops of my breasts.
I thought maybe I was just a peach.
Fuzz was everywhere, in drains, and
on the road. Wildflowers draped
the highway like a plat fur coat.
I drove east at sunset and
all the good stuff was behind me.
Somewhere between Bittersweet Lane
and the next town line, harmony
held together my shoulder blades.
This was the summer
men had shroom-epiphanies
about things I knew in the third grade.
I felt the space between atoms
as their electrons repelled each other.
I had to stop gripping the wheel.
Untitled
Adeline Hume
Ajar
Miles Urban
Madeline
Sophia Hall
Violette Stevenson
Violette Stevenson is a 17 year old NY based photographer. Her work is inspired by both her love of the natural world and her love of urban culture. Violette draws on her dual French and American heritage to create work that connects these two contrasting realms.
These photos were taken this summer in the south of France. Using water as a medium, Violette uses texture and natural light to invite the viewer into the Mediterranean scene.
Sly
Tae Weiss
My Luck Must be Running Low
Tae Weiss
Chew me up and spit me out
It is nothing
But a sweet twist of fate
I've seen you before
A good person
American
So convinced are we that this is what it is.
Drinking wine until birds spill out of their nests.
It's like a dance that we do
With conviction we both stumble alone
I realize that I'll be singing HELLO and GOODBYE for my whole life
And I feel raw
Because I don't think I can ask to be friends anymore
So let me sink to the bottom of the sea
The stars look different down there.
Somewhere. Someday. Right now. I am a lucky girl
A prelude to a winter of waiting
Waiting for the world to appear larger
So that I may never stop my running
Tug
Urban Miles
Sarah Liu
Anya Heiden
Glare
Miles Urban
Autumn
Isaiah Rosenn
There’s a cruel trick that the universe plays
Which Begins in the most pitiful fashion
By yearning for things you can not have
Begging for the untouchable
The original folly
The thrill is in the chase
In the gut wrenching feeling of wanting something more
It pulsates throughout your body like golden blood
Keeping you on what seems to be the brink between life and death
The run towards the light as cars whizz by in a taunting blur
Their exhaust sings the song of what you crave
Lifting your soul out of your body
To be tossed around in the wind
But your lifeless shell bounds forward
As your heart races to catch up
But then you reach the end
And your soul returns to its faithful dwelling
You face what you have dreamed of for so long
It is when you quench that thirst and sooth the raw ache of desire
That the trick becomes harsh and cruel
Because in that moments of pure content
You fall
You are enlightened as to what all light is: a mere match burning out
It overwhelms you, attacks you
It is not as pretty as it was before
Encompasses your body in a barbaic ambush of yellow and gold
That pierces your mind in a blinding searing pain
Your thoughts are blank
And if they weren’t
Your only thought would be willing the body to implode
It seeps into every crack and crevice you have to offer
Pushing everything out so your heart stops and you stand frozen
Petrified
And finally it leaves in a far too angelic fashion
You feel emptier than you were before
Because the thing you craved so long is nothing what you dreamed of
Nor will it ever be
As the empty stomach knows not when it is full
You must learn satiation
And be content with an end
Only then will the beginning matter
Those who are happy find pleasure in their limits
And joy in a conclusion
This is the cruel trick
This cruel trick is why
Juliet smiles dead where she lies
Icarus laughs as he falls from the sky
And why Autumn is so beautiful
Because everything dies
Dangle
Urban Miles
Daydream
Urban Miles
Flower Series
Tae Weiss
