I remember the warm light. I was nine. I was chewing big red gum. The road was loud and ivory dust clouded the wheels. I had been in the way back with my map and my bear and his/her little clothes. You ran up to me and hugged me and we jumped together while we hugged. We talked about swimming in the river. The light glittered through the tall trees. I remember feeling like the sky knew me. I remember feeling big and important, before I got older and that notion was taken. I’ve since learned that you can be big and important, but only in the eyes of a few people, and only if you’re lucky enough to find them. In Ephemera, Carina Pearson offers a delicate tapestry of poetry and visual art, weaving together fleeting moments of beauty, longing, and introspection. Her collection explores the tension between the transient and the eternal, capturing the quiet magic of everyday life alongside the ache of existence. Accompanied by her evocative photography and mixed media artwork, Pearson’s words invite readers to pause and marvel through a lens of wonder and raw emotion. Ephemera is a celebration of the ephemeral—those brief, precious seconds that change us, even as they slip away.
