Combining Words, and My Word!

Justin Duckwitz

Yesterday, in Julie Nichol’s office, we cracked into one of the boxes that contained our freshly printed journals. The smell of new print stuck to the crisp pages, some sticking to one another and coming unpeeled, was a revival to my senses during these weeks of finals. The experience actualized what had only been ideas, and not even just our ideas as Touchstones editors, but the ideas of the authors and artists that we've worked so hard with this semester. And now they're here, ready to be shared.

For the semester’s final blog post we decided to try an uncanny experiment—a blog post with each of us on it. This idea has found itself in our midst as the most reasonable, the most meaningful, and the most authentic way to polish off this semester. And it only makes sense: through all our attempts at trying to make this process of editing a journal rational, we have ended up here almost by accident, publishing a journal full of words and images that we were only recently pleasantly surprised to get to know. And maybe among what we have learned from this experience is that despite personal tastes, despite each of our individual knowing the we have the best ideas, in fact the cooperation with others in the realm of imagination will always render the most unexpected and wonderful effects. We hope you think so too. 

Please come to My Word! Tonight at 7:00 at UVU in CB 511 

Caitlin LaVange

Since I was a sophomore, I’ve wanted to find my place in a meaningful community. That community has become Touchstones. I longed to unwrap literary goodies, but I also found sweet friendships. This semester as Editor-in-Chief, the experience has made me realize just how many hands, minds, souls, and memories it takes to keep up the quality that we strive for as an editing staff. As contemplative creative writers, thinkers, introvert and extroverts alike; we do value our precious alone time, but grow much more by working with each other.

Every single staff member has helped make this issue of Touchstones progress forward. The journal continues to hold its past poise, while it expands new ranges of color and meaning.

Here is to my Tribe this semester--Cheers to ten individuals who deserve a long genuine toast, or treat, for putting so much time and passion into Touchstones. We have also learned this in this increasing day of technology, we as writers and editors have learned some of the visual technical process this semester. Thank you to the staff who helped specifically on typesetting night, and Shauntel, Jared, and Joe for being in for the long, late haul.

To Shauntel- For always being the most thoughtful, caring, and organized. You have the grace of Alicia Markova and Ginger Rogers, energy of Misty Copeland, and strength of Natalia Osipova. Not to mention, the ingenuity of Doris Humphrey. You have been at the forefront of all this entire process. I wouldn’t have probably survived without your support. Your memory and sharp thinking was a gift to Touchstones!

To Joe- For being so damn reliable. I could always count on you to get the job done. It’s clear that you really care about this journal. You were like the backbone, who also happens to be a badass musician and poet. Your very heightened view towers over us, you are the man, the loyal dude. Thank you.

To Amanda-Your honesty and point of view is incredibly refreshing. You have also been a seriously dedicated editor, and I could depend on your every word. You are exactly the kind of feminist I would want to read, really though. I admire your passion for social change and fairness to everyone.You brought the edge, the essential complexity and something I continue to be inspired by. Thank you for also the laughs. That is needed as well.

To Justin- Thank you so much for all the excellent work you have put into Touchstones this far. You are one talented dude. I can see how much this journal means to you, and your determination is a huge strength. I admire your input and ability to start a conversation with anyone. Not to mention your sophisticated chef skills! Also, I had no idea you were so good at playing the guitar! Also, you’re next up to bat in the fall. I have no doubt you will create a fabulous issue!

To Jared-I feel extremely lucky that we got to have you on staff as one of our poetry editors. You are sharp as hell, and your calm, collected, kind self emanates from you. In other words, you are a serious pleasure to be around. Your hard work and poignant insight has meant a lot. Also, your taste in music is in my opinion, is richly top grade. Keep on.

To Stockton- You have also been very responsible and reliable in regards to helping to keep the journal going. You’re a part of the T-stone's family now and you’ve helped unite our staff. Your sarcasm and historical knowledge paired to be educational, plus hilarious. Thank you for all your fantastic work.

To Kristal- Kristal, Kristal. The keeper of the art flame. You have no idea how much you have helped Touchstones move forward and grow. We’ve been lucky to have your gorgeous art published in the journal for so long and now this semester we were enlightened by your artistic eye. Touchstones would not be what it is without the art. Thank you a million. You lit up the staff with your beautiful presence, and not just your fantastic blue hair.

To Julie- I couldn’t be more pleased with you as our Faculty Advisor for this semester. You are an incredible professor, writer, and editor. You really care about the quality of the journal, and you care about us as students. Thank you Julie, for being such a lovely guide throughout this process from start to end. There is so much to learn from you, as I will have the privilege of taking your advanced fiction class in the fall. You are a beautiful person, and all of your edits have been such important ways of heightening and clarifying language. I couldn’t have done it without you!

To Lilly-Thank you so much for being our technical expert this semester. This part of the typesetting and visual creation of the journal is an imperative part, and you really helped us a ton with the tedious process. It is not easy, as we all found out. However, it was very comforting to have you to trust as I handed you the keys. You are awesome, and the visual design is ultimately what makes or breaks it as a finished journal, so thank you!

To Geoff- You brought the humor, the silly and the smart jokes. You are a great editor. You are savvy with the creative, the technical, and you pick things up super fast. You’re a well-rounded fellow, thank you for all your help!

Joe Roberts

In his collection Some Love, poet Alex Caldiero writes:


                   I open my

side, take out my heart, hold it,

still beating, in my hands, & insist that 

everyone come close & verify that

this is no trick.

There isn't a way that I could better articulate the artistic process. I like to think that Touchstones offers us a place to put our hearts on display, like a museum exhibit called "The Human Heart." Each room of the exhibit is filled with the percussion of flowing blood as people wander through, past thumping cardiac samplings, and learn a little better the shapes of their own hearts.

Thank you all for allowing us on Touchstones staff to display your hearts, whether they're shaped like words or shaped like paint. 

Shauntel Peterson

Diversity like  

a kaleidoscope that paints

pictures of our time.


Stockton Carter

"Take the risk of thinking for yourself--much more happiness, truth, beauty, and wisdom will come to you that way." --Christopher Hitchens


Amanda Steele

I thought for this collaborative entry I would share some of my own work. This poem is about creativity in its all its paradoxical glory. Art is sensual and appealing as well as dark and draining. Creativity and life is all about paradox and how to reside and exist in that space.



Insomnia’s Caress

Feasting on frozen huckleberries

While dancing demons flicker

around this mundane kitchen.

Mint leaves and orange peels make

wreaths around their heads.


It is three am. Time for looming over

newspaper ads while consuming

midnight snacks as the dark

dancers get their fill on me.


The sweet berry juice sticks to tile

as it leaves my lips. Air,

smell of cranberries, Water

slip slips from the erotic faucet.

My brain matter never sleeps.


Jared Price

Being able to get your hands dirty in another person’s words is an altogether visceral and harrowing experience. An editor is a surgeon of sorts—navigating a complex web of word-nerves and language-arteries. It’s a dangerous game: one false nick and the piece bleeds out; play it safe, and you run a risk of ignoring its potential. 

This semester, I’ve been amazed by watching my editing peers navigate the guts of prose and poetry—deftly poking, slivering, and prodding in just the right ways, shaving away any malignance and allowing a body of words to soldier on, even stronger than before. I’ve learned a lot watching my peers slice and dice; I owe them much for their aid and, in some circumstances, resuscitation. The idea of going solo without them makes me nervous, as I’ve come to rely on their skill and experience. I hope that with all of the things I’ve learned this semester, maybe I’ll have fewer deaths on the table in the future. Keep your fingers crossed.

Others' Words/My Word!

by Julie Nichols

I've been reading Annie Dillard and Li-Young Lee on writing. "The writer studies literature, not the world," Dillard says:


He is careful of what he reads, for that is what he will write. He is careful of what he learns, because that is what he will know. The writer knows his field--what has been done, what could be done, the limits--the way a tennis player knows the court. And he, too, plays the edges. That's where the exhilaration is: he hits up the line. He pushes the edges. Beyond this limit, here, the reader must recoil. Reason balks, poetry snaps, some madness enters, or strain. Now courageously and carefully, can he enlarge it? Can he nudge the bounds? And enclose what wild power? (106-7)


After some time with this I am compelled--compelled--to cast the book--Dillard's collection of essays old and new, The Abundance--aside. To toss it (carefully, though) onto the little sofa in my office where all things to be dealt with later get tossed--cast the book aside, as I say, grab a pencil and a notebook, and write.


Like most writers--including you, I assume--I came to my worship of words through others' words. Nursery rhyme and fairy tale, picture book and poetry, magazines and newspapers and backs of cereal boxes all beckoned me toward where I am now and cannot leave. Younger writers have blog posts and newsfeeds, web pages and memes. It's all the same: magic words on a screen or printed paper open up the universe. They blow your mind.


Books fall open,

you fall in,

delighted where,

you've never been.

Hear voices

not once heard before,

Reach world through world,

through door on door.

Find unexpected

keys to things,

locked up beyond


True books will venture,

Dare you out,

Whisper secrets,

Maybe shout,

across the gloom,

to you in need

Who hanker for

a book to read.


That's David McCord, on a quite different plane from Dillard or his fellow poet Li-Young Lee.


Most of the time I'm an underliner. I like to buy books (rather than borrow or Kindle them) so I can pencil responses. "Cf. Rilke on Apollo!" "See F. Yates on memory palaces." "Sooooo Dickens!"  But I find I don't underline Lee's words. Breaking the Alabaster Jar is a compilation of "conversations" with the poet, and, strangely, I don't want to mark it up because every word rings like a lovely solemn bell and no one sentence--like no solitary note in a symphony, no  unique ingredient in a gourmet meal--can be singled out. But see this:


All the work precedes the actual writing of the poem and requires a kind of supplication, assuming a vulnerable posture, keeping open. It's like prayer. I think one has to do a lot of struggling before one actually kneels and says the words. Then after that, of course, there's a lot of revision; but I do a lot of reading and mental, spiritual, and emotional struggling before I actually come to the page.


And this:

      When I do get to the page, it usually begins with a line that I can't make any       sense of. Then I write to find out what that line means....I come to the page         with certain experiences and intentions, but the poem begins to happen in a       line, and I write to understand that. (40)


These words fill me with respect--awe, even--for the person who says them, and for words themselves, that they can speak this, and do. When I read them, I want to be wiser. My thinking improves, my aesthetic tastes expand, my commitment to art leaps as a consequence of them.


This week is "My Word!", the launch party for the Spring 2016 issue of Touchstones. Almost twenty years now, our journal has been appearing, showcasing the words of UVU students, and the art, and the thought. The essence. This semester, as always, it's a beautiful volume, full of humor and poignancy and cleverness and wit, and not a few moments where I--or you--might fling the book aside, snatching up your own writing instrument of choice (pen? keyboard? phone?) and gasping I want to write like that! I want to be that writer! I can do that!


We live through words, we writers. Through our art. Everything is words, is art. Li-Young Lee says, "When nature has passed through me as an alembic it comes out as art" (28). Annie  Dillard says:


Writing every book, the writer must solve two problems: Can it be done? and, Can I do it?....One of the few things I know about writing is this: Spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes. After Michelangelo died, someone found in his studio a piece of paper on which he had written a note to his apprentice, in the handwriting of his old age: “Draw, Antonio, draw, Antonio, draw and do not waste time." (110, 115)


Both Dillard and Lee say (I must use the words of others to describe) what Touchstones bears witness to: art is transformation.


Finding the subject, the medium, the form, we find ourselves. The world was created that way; that's the way it's supposed to be. We--you and I, Touchstones contributors and staff and readers--are a community of word-hoarders, sentence-caressers, line-lovers. Others' words inspire me. Your art matters. My Word! celebrates them all. Come to the party, Thursday, April 21, at 7 pm in CB 511 at UVU. We'll all be there, toasting and tasting the word.


Julie Nichols






Freedom of Speech and Art: Inseparable Allies

Universities, places of higher-education, are supposed to be the ultimate refugee for freedom of speech.  They are supposed to be places where any thought, no matter how strange, can be subject to the free marketplace of ideas.  In these places, no manner of thinking should be barred from debate, and should be judged solely on the validity of its arguments, not the biases of the mainstream or the powerful.

With these criteria in mind, art is the natural, inseparable ally of freedom of speech. Their goals are parallel. At its core, art and the artist throw both their work and themselves into the free marketplace of ideas, where its merits can be debated by readers, by critics, and by students. If there is one thing I hope about this magazine, it is that it continually strives to uphold the ideal that any prose or poetry can be published here, based solely on its merits, and not on the biases of its editors (myself included).

As any good ally does, freedom of speech and art work together not just in peacetime, but in times of war. When the censors threaten the sanctity of art, such as the attempts in the past to censor Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, advocates for freedom of speech will come to its defense.  When freedom of speech comes under attack from bullies or ideologues, authors like George Orwell will, in their art, show the dangerous results of such dictatorial actions.

We as students of these institutions should be the vanguards for freedom of speech, and we can do that in many ways.  As a writer myself, I choose to do so through written art, and I imagine I’m far from alone in such a case.

Stockton Carter, Touchstones Prose Editor

Cosmic Terra by Annalee Morris 

Cosmic Terra by Annalee Morris 

"Rebel Rebel"—How Creativity is the Ultimate Form of Rebellion

I read on an insightful but lighthearted quote online that goes, “Creativity is the greatest rebellion in existence.” This refrain contributed to the current sculpting of my thoughts on this semester’s issue of Touchstones.

 As we enter the final stages of the editing process, I have been reflecting on all of the pieces, both writing and art, that we have selected for this semester. It is exciting to see the collaborations between authors and editors—to take part as we begin to put the parts of the journal together into a cohesive whole. Every semester brings with it new themes, ideas, and energy, that we as the Touchstones journal staff attempt to capture and assemble. I have been particularly excited to see some of our current selections push boundaries that the journal has been perhaps hesitant to approach before.

This issue will be a good dose of humor, sincerity, and edginess. The balance of beauty and darkness, the traditional and the unconventional, reflects the diverse culture of Utah Valley University’s student body. I believe art should tell the truth, be a little messy, ruffle some feathers; and only after we have broken into new territory can fresh ways of thinking and viewing the world emerge. Utah Valley University has an impressive variety of students with different backgrounds and perspectives—and their creative works reflect this important diversity. I am looking forward to seeing this edition of Touchstones come together, and I can’t wait to share the talents of the varied artists and writers we have selected for this issue.  

Amanda Steele, Touchstones Prose Editor


Ralph Steadman

Ralph Steadman


I wonder what I really mean when I say, “well I’m just not sure why I like this painting so much, I just do.”  Do I take myself at face value, and assume that there is some essential Geoff-attracting quality that the painter has instilled in his canvas that I am unable to put my finger on, or is what I’m really trying to say merely that I’m afraid that the reasons I like this painting may sound silly, insignificant, or wholly personal to me and the wonderful collection of experiences that I like to call ‘reality’?  Maybe a part of me is afraid you won’t like this painting (which is irrational, because I didn’t paint it, why should I care if you like it?) Or perhaps that your perceptions of me as an artist/editor/critic might be colored by the fact that I think this painting is “rockin’-awesome.”  Can I use the term rockin’-awesome in a blog post?  I’m totally going to.

The painting is Kandinsky’s “Several Circles”, and it has a marvelous habit of making me smile, making me reflect, and tossing the warm-fuzzy and wholly figurative blanket of old comforts over my shoulders, all—pretty much—at the same time.

Really, I think my life is just made up of circles.  I don’t know if that’s any deep profound insight or just that I feel like most of the other editors here have much cooler blog posts that you should go read (right now.) But seriously—circles.  I have desires, passions, aversions, comforts, discomforts, etc. . . And as I swim through the comfortable deepness of Kandinsky’s canvas I can’t help but feel like I bump up against one or two of them every now and again.  Each one its own circle.  Sometimes they overlap, forming new patterns and colors and even new ideas or perspectives.  Sometimes they float off and stand apart, willing me to forget they’re there, or begging me to swim out to spend a little time within them.  There are bright pink circles that somehow remind me of the flavor of bubble-gum as a kid (which is actually a really odd flavor, if you think about it.) and there are those occasional dark spots that aren’t so much a circle as the lack-of-a-circle, though even they are surrounded by interesting lights or colors.  Maybe they’re just waiting to be filled?

So why on earth am I writing about circles?  What do they have to do with a literary journal?  I wish I were more sure of what “the point” was supposed to be (do circles have points?  If they don’t maybe I don’t have to either!) But I guess it may be this:  I don’t think it’s possible to change one thing on a canvas—re-color one circle, perhaps move one around—without changing the entire work (or work in progress.)  I believe that to be the same with life, or at least with my life, which will always feel a little bit like swimming through Kandinsky’s circles.  When I spend some time in the poetry circle, or any of the writing circles, when I spend some time examining them and living in them and attempting to create something through them, I invariably change them, perhaps even expand them.  Sometimes I probably even mess with the colors a little bit or even puncture one end and send the poor little circle fluttering around like a deflating birthday balloon.  And I have also seen very clearly in my (very) fledgling writer’s experience, that as I expand one area, others follow suit. 

Even that’s a little abstract.  How about this:  everything is connected.  I cannot seek to become a better poet without also becoming a better essayist.  And as I attempt to more finely tune my faculties for succinct expression in a personal essay, I may learn a thing or two about fiction, and the stories that we all tell, academically or otherwise.  Even right now, I’m working at least a little bit at expanding the poor little neglected “blog” circle.

And perhaps that’s why I’m so glad that there are so many extraordinarily talented visual artists contributing to Touchstones.  If this entry isn’t example enough, well. . . sometimes even those of us who fixate on words for a living don’t really do a good job of using them toward even our own desired effects.  I could spend a lifetime honing my craft until I were a master of composition, drafting, revising, editing, typesetting, you name it, but words themselves are really such a small part of Language (with a capital L.)  I am so excited for this upcoming publication of Touchstones, and hope that you are as well.  I’m excited for the colors and the lines and the shades and shadows.  I’m excited for the compositions and the experiments and the risks and perhaps just a little bit excited for the words, too. So very many circles.  


Geoff Griffin 

Prose Editor

  Severel Circles by Wassily Kandinsky 


Severel Circles by Wassily Kandinsky 

Icon Breaking Creativity

Creativity is a force used not only to express, but also as a form of tribute. Whether we write a short story in tribute of a childhood memory, or take photographs of a natural disaster, or compose a song in tribute of our current circumstances, our creative endeavors end up becoming much more than some words scribbled down on paper. Our creative works pays tribute to current social issues in the world around us, whether they be issues of identity, sexuality, race, religion, or others. While I don’t think this is always consciously created, often, our creative art becomes a reflection of our fingerprints in our current time.

In their upcoming March 2016 issue, Harpers Bazaar Magazine, a culture, art, and beauty magazine, [teamed up] with ballerina Misty Copeland of American Ballet Theatre, who was recently named the first African American Principal dancer, to create a reproduction of Edgar Degas’s renowned ballet watercolor masterpieces. Degas’ work captured fleeting moments in everyday life. His paintings of ballet dancers capture the “movement of the human body, exploring the physicality and discipline of the dancers through the use of contorted postures and unexpected vantage points”. I find this so earthshakingly significant because having Misty at the center of these creations presents such a juxtaposition of what has been deemed classical, traditional, and molded in both the historicity of art and ballet, and cracks the binding frame of tradition.

 Misty breaks the traditional prima ballerina icon, shattering everything that has been typical for dancers before her who achieved the role of Principal in worldwide esteemed companies. In the New York Time’s 2007 article, “Where are All the Black Swans?," race finally became a talking point around the dance world. For the aesthetics of ballet, gracefulness and uniformity, pale and tall Principal dancers, both male and female, fit the part better. Misty’s black body doesn’t fit the frail, long muscles, and tall stature of ballerinas. Her figure is much more muscular with toned port de brass and strong, chiseled thighs and calves. Standing only 5’ 2”, Misty’s body breaks the ballerina icon, as does her background.

I recently viewed A Ballerina’s Tale and learned more about her atypical dance training background. The traditional path of ballet dancers who make it to world renowned companies like Royal Ballet of London, New York City Ballet, or Boshoi Ballet Theatre of Russia, goes as follows: from traditional ballet training from a well-known studio ages 6-13, private training from 13-16, getting accepted to study in a professional school connected to Company at 16, and then finally being accepted as part of the Corps of the ballet Company. Misty though, comes from a childhood of hardship. Taking her first ballet class at age 13 at a local Boys and Girls Club, working painstakingly to gain the technique and strength to dance en pointe and being accepted to study with the ABT school at 16, working through the Company from Corps de Ballet member to Soloist and finally to Principal June 30, 2015 at age 32 after miraculously making a recovery from shin surgery.

Art forms are always crossing and interloping, whether we are both writers and musicians; artists and poets; or dancers and photographers it is our passion for creating art in any form that fuels us. Even our subject matters cross paths with other forms of creativity; we write poems about art we see, we compose songs after watching a film, or we choreograph dances after famous watercolors.

Misty’s icon breaking progressive achievements not only pave the way for atypical body types, various backgrounds, nontraditional training paths, and multi-racial opportunities in the dance world, but her achievements carve new paths for any art form. Her story provides inspiration not only for a dancer/poet like myself, but for anyone striving to share their art with others. The dancer in me resonates with Misty’s story.

I only started dancing in high school but I think our fires are fueled with just a bright a love for this art form even if we didn’t start learning it at a very young age. Even though my body isn’t the ballet-perfect silhouette (It’s a stocky 5’3” with short arms and large calves.) I’ve found a graceful power behind dance. For me, dance expresses emotions that I just can’t quite pin down in a poem. Often, if I’m experiencing something too intense, whether it’s joyful or sorrowful, and I need more of a release than my pen will give, I turn to dance. Like poetry, dance helps me connect with other people and experiences and channel my energy into something constructive. Whether we are musicians, poets, photographers, artists, or sculptors, we can break through traditional icons no matter our gender, race, sexuality, background, or training. The important thing is that we fuel our creative passion and create. 

I see Touchstones as a place where we as creative people come together to push our fingerprints into the clay of our current times and leave our tributes to our experiences, both personal and collectively.

Poetry Editor

Shauntel Peterson

                  “Three Dancers in Violet Tutus”. Photo taken by me in an art gallery this summer during the English Department’s Study Abroad to London.


                “Three Dancers in Violet Tutus”. Photo taken by me in an art gallery this summer during the English Department’s Study Abroad to London.

What's the Use?

“So what is the use of poetry these days

What use is it What good is it

these days and nights in the Age of Autogeddon

in which poetry is what has been paved over

to make a freeway for armies of the night…”

 --Uses of Poetry, Lawrence Ferlinghetti


Like countless other poets, Ferlinghetti asks my own question in words that are so much more effective than my feeble attempts. I’ve considered this greatly over the years, and the answer is a difficult one to come by. Why do we pursue the pristine metaphor, the striking juxtaposition, the whirling twist and perfect landing of a poetic turn?

Our poetic inclinations are rooted deep. The earliest written lines reach back at least 4000 years and the oral tradition reaches back to time immemorial. It makes sense that we continue charging forward with poetry into our technological era. To write poetry is to become human—of particular importance in Ferlinghetti’s “Age of Autogeddon.”

To take a page from the father of modern linguistic theory, Ferdinand de Saussure, language is not simply a name-giving system or reflection of our reality. Language is our reality. Without language there is no thought. Language divides an amorphous and unspecific reality into building blocks with which we can construct ideas, formulate concepts, and, at the risk of sounding hyperbolic, attempt to process our oftentimes confusing existence.

To my sensibilities, therein lies the “use” of poetry. All art grapples with the human condition, but poetry wrestles reality. Through visceral, savage entanglement with language, poetry challenges our preconceived notions of what constitutes this physical existence. When we grasp the world around us through a heightened sense and mastery of language, we are able to alter directly the very matter of our thoughts and, by extension, the world around us. To create poetry is to take charge of our linguistic experience and mold our world.

In his brilliant essay “Belief and Technique for Modern Prose” (which I feel can be extrapolated very effectively to poetry), Jack Kerouac stated that one of the essential aspects of writing well is the inclusion of the “unspeakable visions of the individual.” Kerouac’s oxymoron outlines just what we need to do as poets: speak our unspeakables.

The unique visions each of us garner from our individual lives often fall outside of conventional linguistic scope. Creativity and audacity are the substances that fill these gaps. If this seems paradoxical, that’s because most pure attempts at art are. We are using imperfect systems to reach for perfection—telling fundamental lies to arrive at truth. It’s a beautiful and uniquely human struggle. To take from Kerouac again, the best we can do is “Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea.”

At Touchstones, we have the surreal and humbling task of working with our writer’s constructions of reality. Every poem we encounter contains the staggering weight of a new paradigm of thinking—each a unique vehicle racing toward Truth or some semblance of it. It’s an experience I’ll never forget nor take for granted.

Thanks for letting us in on your unspeakable visions. Keep them coming.


Jared Price

Poetry Editor


Submissions Deadline and Reading Night Are a Thing of Tomorrow

If you have a piece of prose or poetry that you would like published, you are just in time to submit to Touchstones this semester as the deadline is tomorrow, Feb 11. And don't worry about choosing among the pieces you have, because you are allowed to submit as many as you want. Who knows, you might just get something published. What could you lose? 

One unique thing about our journal is that once we publish your piece, we give the rights and ownership back to you, so you may submit it and publish it again to another journal. What's also cool is that if we accept your piece, we will workshop it with you like crazy, giving you the chance to make it ooze amazing, remarkable David-Bowie-magic-dancing effect and meaning. After publishing with us, you're poised to go higher. Why not send it to The New Yorker, Ploughshares, or Tin House. 

Also, whether or not you submit, all Utah Valley University students are invited to our open reading night, which is the day after submissions: Friday the 12th. The night works like this: each piece is read through by at least three real regular Utah Valley University students who will each evaluate the piece and determine whether they believe it is Touchstones worthy. After every piece has been read by three people, we have a discussion about them. Joining us on this night gives you experience with all types of prose and poetry that have been written at all types of skill levels. It gives you the chance to see what kind of writing really stands out, and why.  Your writing can't avoid improving after a night like reading night. And, tons of professors will give you extra-credit just for attending. You should ask if yours will. Maybe we'll see you there. 

Justin Duckwitz

Touchstones PR Manager

Words Like Monuments

      “The aim of the poet and the poetry is finally to be of service, to ply the effort of the individual work into the larger work of the community as a whole.”

     -Seamus Heaney, writing about Yeats


         Though my personal affinity has always been for poetry, I would suggest that this quote could apply to anyone who works creatively. Touchstones has, more than anything, shown me the valuable service that creative people can provide. They can tell us who we are, where we are, where we’re going, and where we’ve been. That is what makes artists and, more importantly, art so valuable. Touchstones is not about individuals flexing their creative muscles or showboating their talents. Touchstones is about all of us, together, at once, saying “This is who we were” to whoever might care.


         When we sit down to write, to sculpt, to paint, to draw, or to sing, we can do it with the intention of showing off our talents and exorcising that which torments us, but it’s much more satisfying to make something for somebody else. It’s much more worthwhile to invent an animal and then send it down a hallway full of strangers. Without the artist there, who will the animal brush up against and sniff? Who will run their fingers through its fur? Who will find that, if they listen, they can understand its every bark and howl? Who will it bite? Who will look into its eyes and, instead of seeing the artist lurking inside, waving for attention, see their own reflection but in a new way that is unexpected and sublime?

        There are those artists that are so good at giving us what we need that we elevate them to celebrity status and call them heroes, electing them to speak for us and show us the way through the dark. But we all have at least one poem or story or painting that has, by itself, followed us home. We remember these far longer than the people who crafted them. When something is created, the creator is just an incidental part of the process. What really matters is the creation and what it does to the people who find it.

          To me, Touchstones is a community of creative people working together to show us who we are. Touchstones is a place for art and writing that helps us identify and understand ourselves.

      I want to sign off with a line from Josh Ritter’s ballad “Bone of Song.” 

“I’ll remember your song - but I’ll forget your name.”


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Looking into the Spring

           Passing through each semester, we swing from one vine to the next. As we’re in the down stroke of spring, we anticipate the momentous journey that the staff and student body are about to embark on. Last fall, the Touchstones journal staff made a lot of progress which we want to continue with this spring issue.

            Last semester, Jordan Freytag lead as Editor-in-Chief and helped us connect as a creative writing staff. The fall 2015 issue brought the creative writing community together at UVU. Now, as Editor-in-Chief for the spring issue I can say we’re more excited than ever considering how far we’ve come as a journal. We plan to keep building the strong sense of community, as well as reaching out to new writers and artists. We want to urge and welcome the student body to submit their creative works and be a part of the journal.

            We’ve updated the Touchstones website and will actively post on our blog each week this semester. Every member of our editing staff will have a chance to write and post about their thoughts. We invite you to be involved in our crafted literary journal, whether it be submitting your prose, poetry, creative nonfiction, or art of any medium. If anyone is interested in a valuable experience as a writer and editor, then come to reading night where you can help vote for the published pieces. Anyone who is willing to come help at reading night will be credited for their work in the journal and will also be considered for future staff positions. Submission deadlines for writing is Feb.11th by 11:59 pm. Reading night is Feb.12th in room 206a in the SC building at 6:00 pm. Art submissions are due by Feb.25th by 11:59 pm.

We look forward to your creative work and hope to see you at reading night.


Caitlin LaVange.

Editor-in-Chief, Touchstones