The Stars Issue

Volume 15 Issue 4, March 2016

Do you remember the last time you looked up at the stars?
Seeing the night sky has always stirred up memories for me—memories of happy times, of camping trips, of staying up too late talking with friends, of greeting the dawn after staying up all night for the first time. But also harder memories—memories of sickness, of insomniac anxiety, of sitting up into the wee hours by my grandmother’s bedside just before she passed.
Looking up at the stars, you can see the memory of our universe. We do not see the stars as they are, but as they were: their light travels years—for some, millions, or even billions, of years—to reach us. Every time you look up at a sky full of stars, you’re looking into history. For thousands of years, people have looked up to the night sky and traced patterns there, tracked the movement of celestial objects in their courses. There’s something constant and comforting about looking up and knowing that action connects you to a whole human history—as though the stars somehow watch over our human memory as well as showing us their own.
Yet constant as they seem, stars change. However, most change at so slow a pace you would need several human lifetimes to see the shift. What we can see is our own movement—the shift of the constellations with the changing of the seasons. And as the seasons change, so too does this little arts and literature magazine. By the time our next issue comes out, there will be a new staff and new Editor-in-Chief. As I write this note, I am filled with the memories of my past year with Blueprint Magazine. Being Editor-in-Chief has been one of the hardest and most incredible things I have ever done, and I feel so privileged to have had this opportunity. I give my sincere thanks to my wonderful minions—er, staff, our fabulous contributors, and you, dear reader, for making this year so memorable.
In my ftrst Editor’s note of the year I told you we all come into this world swimming. Now I’m going to tell you to keep shining—because in my eyes, you’re all stars.
Until next time, dear reader, good night.

Carina Rampelt