Issue 3: Night
Nyx, the primordial Greek goddess of night, resides near the beginning of creation. She is daughter of Chaos and mother to a tribe of symbiotic forces. Without her there would be no day, no sleep, no death, no dreams, no atmosphere, no toil and no blame. Without these forces, there would be nothing to write.
Nyx, a noctournal, is now a year old. Twelve months ago, in our first issue, we began at the end, The idea of using the end as a place of beginning we thought quite playful, which led us to further inquire into the idea of play in our second issue. Eschewing the constraints of work and responsibility is an activity characteristic of the night, and so this is the theme of our third issue. Breaking free from the order of daily life, we lose our way. A disorienting process of turning pages in the dark has, rather appropriately, taken us back to our origins.
Night is solitude in one of its most unaffected forms, and the possibility of this solitude generates a time of great intimacy. In the space that solitude affords comes the space for creation: a site of limitless potential. Night can be a time of stillness, but stillness is not productive. Only creation allows a focus, an intimacy with the idea, the image, the emotion. This engagement with solitude opens up a space that is full, in contrast to the skeletal quality of the commitments, obligations and concerns that fill the day.
In this issue, we consider the implications of race and gender as they unfold on a darkened London street, review a book which considers night-time creations in the London borough of Southwark, and watch poems bombed from the sky in Warsaw flutter down. We consider light as a matter of concern, often over-looked, and are confronted with difficult snow collecting around a lampost. As always, the following pages of our noctournal are a record produced outside of normal daylight hours, in which we attempted to write and think about what we can only see obscurely.
Hermien Lankhorst / Claudia Firth
Jacob Love / Carina Lopes
Joel Edward Parker