where the birds wait and the tall grasses wave

the first time i laid eyes on antler magazine, i was curled up in a giant bed, bookended by sara and josh to my right and left, an elderly portuguese water dog named sadie calmly resting at my feet. tucked away from responsibilities and trouble somewhere on kiawah island, my companions and i drifted in and out of sleep, shifting to keep the streaming sunlight out of our eyes and awaking only to instigate pillow fights and flip channels. the hazy, natural imagery of the magazine matched the room's easy calm, and i plunged headfirst into the text: candid interviews and spotlights on independent designers and artists - straightforward, but with the uncanny ability to leave you wanting to know more.

charmed as i was, the harsh return to a reality of deadlines and stress whipped about by a constant northeastern wind pushed the enchantment of antler towards the back of my mind, joined with dreamlike memories of carolina beaches and the egalitarianism of interstate 95. imagine my delight at receiving an email heralding the release of antler's second issue. the formula has remained delightfully similar, drawing from an even wider pool of talent. a travel piece and film retrospective broaden the magazine's spectrum, as well, promising new directions for following issues. now that antler is firmly reinstated at the forefront of my consciousness, i'm excited to see what's next for the fledgling publication.