These ways we have to settle. Moving house. I hate packing: collecting myself up, pulling myself apart. Stripping the body off the house: the walls, the floors, the shelves. Then I arrive, an empty house. It looks like a shell. How I love unpacking. Taking things out, putting things around, arranging myself all over the walls. I move around, trying to distribute myself evenly around the rooms. I concentrate on the kitchen. The familiar smell of spices fills the air. I allow the cumin to spill, and then gather it up again. I feel flung back somewhere else. I am never sure where the smell of spices takes me, as it had followed me everywhere. Each smell that gathers returns me somewhere; I am not always sure where that somewhere is. Sometimes the return is welcome, sometimes not. Sometimes it is tears or laughter that makes me realize that I have been pulled to another place and another time. Such memories can involve a recognition of how one's body already feels, coming after the event. The surprise when we find ourselves moved in this way or that. So we ask the question, later, and it often seems too late: what is it that has led me away from the present, to another place and another time? How is it that I have arrived here or there? -Sara Ahmed , Queer Phenomenology: Orientations, Objects, Others

when you think of space, what comes to mind? Us, here on this pale blue dot floating across the solar system unaware of how small our existence is. Or here, in this haphazardly placed city that has sprang up from a trade route following up from the rolling grasses of the southern prairies and down from the rocky tundra and evergreens. where do you find space here - in an off the side road word of mouth kinda cafe or a fifteen minute trek from the LRT to the End of the World? where do you go to feel -- not any specific emotion--- but all of them at once? (even the unpleasant ones that stick like a papercut under your fingernail), or maybe even a space no longer there but the memories of which have stayed strong with you.

tell us about it.

noticing is an idea born out of witnessing the celebration, disappearance, and the collective need for authentic spaces that matter in edmonton. this zine series will function as an archive and a sort of anti-tourist guide of edmonton spaces in an uncensored, curated collection of community contributions.

edmonton is located on treaty 6 land, which is the traditional territory of indigenous nations (Cree, Saulteaux, Blackfoot, Nakota Sioux) and Métis people and we honor that land. there will be a priority given to those voices who are indigenous to these lands though others are more than welcome to contribute.

we are seeking any and all stories about space, this can include anything from poetry (less than two pages), non-fiction / anecdotes (150 - 500 words), visual art / photography ( 5 x 7), and essays (500-700 words)  about spaces in Edmonton. this zine is a not-for-profit project and will be distributed mainly online in free PDF form. contributors will get a link to the zine and will be given full credit to their submissions, although there will be no monetary compensation for this project.

deadlines:

#1
submissions: august 11 2015
publication: september 1 2015

#2
submissions: september 10th 2015
publication: october 1st 2015

#3
submissions: october 11th 2015
publication: november 1st 2015

#4
submissions: november 10th, 2015
publication: december 1st, 2015