a note from the editor 01

by Ishan Benegal, Editor-in-Chief

Volume 1

shapes | edges | contours

A note from the Editor

Beginnings are usually awkward, intimidating, and uncertain. 

We are often told that it’s either your best foot forward – or none at all. So that’s how we’ve come to view beginnings, whether big or small. But in reality, what is most crucial is simply to begin. Any start is a good start.

Looking back to almost five years ago, to the inception of G5A, emotions ran riot – the pit in the stomach, the rush of adrenaline. All laced with hope. Today, there is another crucial one added to that heady mix: joy. Of sharing work that is sensual, beautiful, and moving.

Over the years, G5A has had many firsts: shows, partnerships, and the first of many friendships and conversations. And now we are ready for more!

With Imprint, our hope and intent is to create a space that allows for stillness – to reflect, express, and share. The backdrop of a pandemic is certainly a very singular moment to be on the threshold of an independent publication, but we felt this was, in fact, the perfect time to do exactly that.

We have always believed in the idea that stories connect us, guide us, and hold us up. There is no better time to tell these stories than now!

Welcome to G5A imprint! 

Ishan Benegal

Editor-in-chief

Volume 09

clay | chlorophyll | crimson

Grass is green where you water it. LC’s words float along over Misch’s guitar. It’s a phrase that feels so obvious, and I’m sure those who tend to gardens know this more than most, but it seems to land more than before. The impact noticeable, memorable, echoing through my being. Perhaps we’re ingrained to think it’s greener elsewhere. This patch is the problem and not whether we’re watering it. The key is in the watering. How we go about this practice is what defines our patch of grass. No matter where we go, our patch is, perhaps, the same. Some attributes and characteristics have been changed but the essence is the same: Us.

Stepping into Volume 09 of imprint, marks our third year. I am learning that this patch of green that we have been tending to for the last several years will mould, shift, and sculpt. This depends on how we water it and allow it to take its own shape. It has already happened in wonderfully unexpected ways. There is only so much structure or shape we can predetermine. Beyond that, it will absorb what it needs and reject all that is unnecessary. And perhaps, in this practice, we are changed. Our grass is watered as we water that of our writing, our image making, our practice, our magazine.

From light to dark, rigid to supple, new to old, there is so much in between that is bright and vibrant and unexpected. The practice of our magazine has focused on being open to what we receive; being open to deeply listening to what is shared; being open to work taking us to new journeys. This volume, and this year, will be no different. We will continue tending to it as we have done, learning along the way, from past seasons and present ones.

And yet, I know it will be entirely different.
But still.
It will be watered.