Just as with the work of the writers we publish, the work the artists and photographers share with us is created from a place deep in their hearts. For some, their art is inspired by illness, disease, or tragedy. For others, their purpose is to tell a story about a specific moment in time. I’m pleased to dedicate this editor’s letter to the artists and photographers who shared their work with us last year and hope you’re as moved by the images as I am.

As a child, I think I understood that sitting down to read together was a luxury and an honor, even if I didn’t fully understand why we had to sit under a blanket of literary gloom, like a lead apron in our laps.

I have a love-hate relationship with obituaries.

To my college journalism professor, they were a teaching tool and one of the best ways to emphasize how important the 5Ws of the lede paragraph were to a newspaper story. His logic made sense, especially because the obituary desk was the first job for many newspaper reporters in my part of the world in the mid-1980s.

I was struck by the innocence one of our readers captured in this photo and what it said to me about exploring the unknown, peering into darkness, and greeting adventure.

I grew up on a farm and remember vividly the intense odors of dust and bird droppings that greeted me when I entered our barn or one of the many sheds my dad used to store machinery and straw bales.

Sometimes, an organization’s success is determined by the commitment of only one or two individuals. That particular organization succeeds when those individuals are passionate, but falters when they lose interest or face issues that are beyond their control. That’s not true here.

Every week, as we return and check out, we collectively affirm both the value of books and the value of libraries, where we learn, discover, shift focus, reinvigorate our interests, vivify our memory, grow, commune.

With the start of a new year, many of us are tempted to draw up a list of resolutions to take us through the ensuing months. Some people try to eliminate procrastination or self-doubt. Other people resolve to eat healthier, …

A few weeks ago, the Oxford Dictionary and Dictionary.com announced their selections for Word of the Year; Merriam-Webster and the American Dialect Society (ADS) will release their choices in January. Each entity has a slightly different set of factors it takes into consideration, but all emphasize that the word or phrase must have become prominent or notable during the previous year.

For the past several months, I’ve been helping my 81-year-old mom sort through family photos. We started with a box of studio portraits taken in the mid- to late-1800s and have made our way through albums of snapshots taken with some of the first Brownie cameras. The images are marked and organized, and now, I understand the gift they represent.

Juli’s work makes me smile, but I realize the desire for motherhood isn’t always this light-hearted. For some, it’s filled with sadness and loss. For some, there’s quiet acknowledgement and acceptance. For others, there is no desire.

Do you remember the last time you tried to catch a bubble? I suspect you held your breath as you were moving your hand into position. The bubble probably popped and splattered a soapy film across your palm, but I imagine you laughed. Then, you blew through your bubble wand and moved into position to try again.