Yellow Arrow Publishing would like to announce the next guest editor for Yellow Arrow Journal, Leticia Priebe Rocha. Leticia will oversee the creation of our Vol. VIII, No. 2 issue.
This next issue of Yellow Arrow Journal will explore the fleeting moments in life that anchor the human experience. Think about the flash after a spark is lit, before a fire burns big and bright . . . the flashes, the sparks, are ephemeral, just like life’s fleeting moments. They make us who we are. To learn more about this idea, read Leticia’s words below. And mark your calendars: the theme will be announced next week, submissions open August 1, and the issue will be released in November.
Leticia earned her bachelor’s from Tufts University, where she was awarded the 2020 Academy of American Poets University and College Poetry Prize. Born in São Paulo, Brazil, she immigrated to Miami, Florida, at the age of nine and currently resides in the Greater Boston area. For more information, visit her website at leticiaprieberocha.com. Leticia’s poem “Lost In” was part of Yellow Arrow Journal PEREGRINE, and she was our .W.o.W. #46 (March 2023).
By Leticia Priebe Rocha
“Nothing is more difficult than surrendering to the instant.”
Clarice Lispector
I was born in the fourth most populous city in the world, São Paulo, Brazil—a beautiful, bustling place rich in culture and architecture. I have few but precious memories of the grand metropolis that raised me. The São Paulo Museum of Art, for example, fostered a lifelong love of art museums that compels me to add these institutions to my itinerary in any place I travel, no matter how brief my stay.
A particular memory that I have held dear since I was seven years old unfolded a few hours away from my city, in the countryside town of Santo Antonio do Pinhal. My little family (mom, dad, baby sister who was a few months old) and I were spending a weekend in the midst of greenery and waterfalls, a lushness that is profuse in many regions of Brazil. As we were winding down for bed on our first night there, my mom called me to step outside with her for a minute. I was struck immediately by the symphony of crickets that enveloped us, my body blanketed in an awe intensified as I looked up and witnessed the unwavering glow of the cosmos pulsing above in every direction. The sheer abundance of stars unknown in my typical urban setting cradled my seven-year-old frame with an acute awareness of my own smallness for the first time. It was at once terrifying and thrilling—I felt myself blossoming alongside the universe, an inseverable connection that I ground myself in to this day.
A few years later, when I was nine years old, we immigrated to another major city, this one on an entirely different continent—Miami, Florida, United States of America. I remember nothing of packing decades of my parent’s lives or my sister and I’s brief time on Earth in a few suitcases. I have no recollection of stepping onto the plane that would bring us to a new reality, and inevitably, new versions of ourselves. The only piece of the journey that I remember is walking through Miami International Airport and being entirely dazzled by the sky visible outside. There was not a cloud in sight, only a blueness punctuated by the relentless sunlight that is signature to Miami in the middle of June. A fleeting image that I still carry with me as a remnant of the child that I was and a beacon of who I would become.
I spent nearly a decade in Miami before parting ways with my first home in this country. I landed in Medford, Massachusetts, to attend university and stuck around ever since. I often joke that I knew Massachusetts was my new home when I flew to a conference in San Francisco and my primary preoccupation while getting off the plane was where I could find the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts (the answer was a definitive “not on every street corner” like you’d find in Boston). It was in an Uber navigating the streets of Boston at 2:00 a.m. that I realized I was in love for the first time. I had just said goodbye to my beloved, the feeling of being held like their one and only anchor to this world lingering over me as I hopped in the car. As I greeted the driver, Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” started playing on the radio, a gorgeous sonic accompaniment to the surrender of my heart. Though I had no certainty of what would come next, a door had been unlocked inside me to a fundamental, profoundly, and exquisitely human experience.
The fleeting moments I described here are inextricable from the person I am today, each instant a spark in forging the fire of the self. As we navigate the turmoil of daily life and the heaviness of what lies beyond our control, it takes an intentional effort to nurture these moments into existence and to sustain the life they bring us. For me, this effort is often driven by introspection: What makes you feel alive? What connections have shaped your being? How do you tap into the well of love and hope within you? The act of creation through poetry and art has been a blessing toward answering these questions, empowering me with an openness to receive the ephemeral and inscribe it not only in memory but on the page.
As Clarice Lispector so eloquently put it, “Nothing is more difficult than surrendering to the instant. That difficulty is human pain. It is ours. I surrender in words and surrender when I paint.” Being alive is a messy, heartbreaking, and beautiful thing. I hold a deep gratitude for the people and places that have inscribed themselves into my essence and for every moment of grace that has granted me the space to grow into myself. I cherish the thought that I have done the same for others in this existence where we are so deeply entangled. May we all find the strength to embrace the transience of this life and adorn the world with sparks far beyond our time here.
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Thank you, Leticia, for your beautiful words. Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts. You can support us as we SPARK and sparkle this year: purchase one of our publications from the Yellow Arrow bookstore, join our newsletter, follow us on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter or subscribe to our YouTube channel. Donations are appreciated via PayPal (staff@yellowarrowpublishing.com), Venmo (@yellowarrowpublishing), or US mail (PO Box 65185, Baltimore, Maryland 21209). More than anything, messages of support through any one of our channels are greatly appreciated.