From the Editor’s Desk
Welcome to Issue 11 of Mistake House Magazine. Our namesake, Principia’s Mistake House, is a small structure on campus that showcases the creative process of architect Bernard Maybeck. Built in 1931, this cottage allowed Maybeck to test the materials and methods he would later use throughout campus. Mistake House continues to inspire Mistake House Magazine, whose vision is to create a home for literature and art that values both the creative process and final design.
Regarding “home,” many of the writers and artists featured in Issue 11 explore its complexities in a changing world. They examine how “home” shapes not only our experience of physical space, but also our understanding of shifting divisions: immigrant and non-immigrant, coming and going, inside and outside, work and play.
Maryam Ghasempour Siahgaldeh’s “Bound Yet Free,” winner of the Editor’s Prize for photography, captures an immigrant’s emotions about leaving home, alongside a vision—or hope—for future arrival. As Siahgaldeh describes it, the image meditates on “the strength required to embrace change while honoring the past.” Miraal Zafar expresses a similar sentiment in “My Grandparents,” which depicts a woman—the artist’s grandmother—at her dressing table after the passing of her husband. To Zafar, she is “a marker of resilience, her dressing table holding echoes of past generations and childhood memories.”
Sayuri Ichida, a Japanese photographer whose work considers themes of migration and identity, is this year’s featured artist in the Soap Bubble Set. In series such as Ctrl Shift + J, Ichida employs a “sculptural” approach to express her experience of living between languages and cultures. Originally from Japan and now based in the United Kingdom, Ichida shares in her interview that she will continue to explore how we view place as she returns to her hometown of Niigata to photograph the effects of depopulation: “I felt a strong sense of responsibility to create a piece reflecting this theme, especially given how deeply it has impacted my hometown, and because I now live in the UK, which may face similar challenges in the future.”
For Suzanne Scanlon, our featured writer in the Soap Bubble Set, home is something we encounter when we dedicate ourselves to craft and remain in conversation with the artists and writers who came before us. “I still read and write,” she says in her creative process statement, “because I want to be in conversation with other writers and artists, both living and dead… I believe that being an artist is a way of being in the world, a matter of seeking inspiration wherever one might find it.” Preparing for our interview with Scanlon, we were struck by her many references to writers whose words offer her the time and shelter to “reclaim a story.” Her narratives—often drawn from personal experiences in psychiatric institutions—blur the lines between fact and fiction in their pursuit of “truth, regardless of genre category.”
Arale Septiaheny’s “A Hatter’s Lament,” winner of this year’s Editor’s Prize for fiction, reimagines the world of the Mad Hatter from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Written as a journal, the story follows the Hatter as he realizes his world is incomplete without Alice. “Even in a place full of wonder,” he writes, “I can’t press you close! It’s killing me! My Wonderland is destroyed!”
In poetry, Kelsey Werkheiser receives the Editor’s Prize for “A failed first aid kit—contents, arts and jazz,” a vivid portrayal of New Orleans. The poem conjures images of “the evergreen eternal streetcar,” “cobblestone streets,” “mansions out on the nicer side of town,” and “Bourbon St. … cradling my skull with noise, watching me through a black mirrorball.” Ultimately, it’s a meditation on memory, loss, and what remains. The final line reads: “leave me above the liquor headstones with no name.”
For these artists, home is complicated. In a world increasingly shaped by political forces beyond our control, the meaning of home must evolve. Though the process is often fraught with uncertainty and hardship, the experience of home—of stability, comfort, belonging—is still worth seeking, and worth defending.
To close, we echo the invitation from our About page: “We invite you to step inside, slip off your shoes, and settle by the fire. Welcome to Mistake House.”
~ Tobin Blair, Editor-in-Chief