submit your work
would you like to join the seeing conversation through poetry, prose, photos, or paper?
we’re always looking for submissions for the online journal with the potential to be printed in our yearly anthology.
seeing is a practice that, when paired with witnessing, creates mirrors that share our common humanity through the beauty and pain of every day life. we welcome prose, poetry, hybrid, photos, and art submissions.
do you have work that fits the seeing practice? we would love to hear from you.
please send submissions to hello@seeingjournal.ca with a short bio.
we aim to respond within 6–8 weeks.
we consider previously unpublished work only. authors retain full rights to their work and grant seeing the right of first publication.
seeing in practice
examples of seeing
Couture
You invited me in to see
A piece of you in words
Decorated coat
Painted nails
Coloured hair
Expensive boots
Designer jeans
Empty promises
Clothes are okay
But I prefer
Your
Heart
– veronica hooper editor
Ghosts
There are ghosts here.
Footprints on the floor,
smudges on the wall,
traces from before
they made their last call.
Spirits,
consciousness,
from the great beyond,
whatever you want to call them—
they are still here
because we are still here.
Breathing their names
into the spaces
where they existed,
on this side of the veil.
Supernatural beings,
just like you and me.
They just know more.
– veronica hooper editor
Bowling
“Can I book a party for 12 people? 2 lanes and shoes.”
“We’re booking a corporate event.”
“Do you have time this afternoon for my family to come and bowl a game and have some wings?”
“Are minors allowed at the alley?”
One number difference. A 6 instead of a 5 opened a gentle world to me during a time when the ordinary was so precious due to its scarcity. The texts come in regularly, a small reminder that the world is still happening beyond our four walls. That people are still getting together, still celebrating, still being silly, renting smelly shoes, and having fun.
I joked begrudgingly about receiving these texts, but the truth is, my heart always felt happy being able to respond kindly and direct the stranger to a place that would bring them joy. An easy thing to remember: to direct them to the right number and wish someone a wonderful day. With no expectations. No potential conflict. A perfect little dose of medicine for my nervous system that exists in what ifs, contingency planning, and emergencies. Knowing that I have been able to do something productive with no strings attached, that is always going to be helpful, is a small mercy that I never realized I needed.
But today might have been the last time.
“Are there bowling lanes open this afternoon? Thanks, Dean.”
“This is a personal number- the bowling alley is xxx-xxxx. Hope you have a lovely day!”
“Ha! Sorry!”
“It’s okay, it happens a lot.”
“I’ll tell them to change the font style on their website…quick glance it looks like a 6!”
“Oh! Good idea!”
My heart sank. I started to cry. I felt as though something had been stripped from me. Something fragile I didn’t know I treasured. Because someone offered me the same goodwill I found such comfort in offering others.
I never gave it much thought; it just kept happening. But now that it might be over, I’m grieving again. Maybe someday I will find a small safe place to land, where I can just be helpful and good.
– veronica hooper editor