We Return to Print
After four years, Terremoto returns to print. We return to paper because we want to create tangible spaces to revisit memories, fabulate futures, share tools, and articulate common worlds.
Beyond an editorial decision, this is a political wager. In a world where algorithms capture our desires, artificial intelligence shapes the production of our images, and large corporations control the circulation of our ideas, printing means reclaiming different rhythms of attention and defending material experience as a space for shared sensibility, radical imagination, and urgent debate. Making a print magazine means contesting who gets to decide what knowledge circulates and how it spreads.
This return also stems from our desire to build an archive that refuses the institutional and corporate agendas that impose a single narrative. Giving critical thought a tangible form means keeping memory alive, ensuring that what unsettles, dissents, or contradicts is not erased for the sake of a convenient version of history. In this spirit, we continue to build an antipatriarchal, anticolonial, antifascist, and antiracist platform for the Americas: a polyphony of perspectives that confront disenchantment, sharpen discernment, practice disobedience, and explore other ways of world-making.
We understand the magazine as a space to push back against the cultural pressures of politeness and respectability that demand we keep up appearances, temper our disagreements, and mold our identities to fit the existing order. Here, we call on one another to fume and rant, scuffle and shout, lock arms and march; to turn our words and images into forms of political action, making room for other sensibilities to become visible.
We are moved by the urgent need to give our dreams, our grief, and our struggles a concrete presence. How else can we make sense of our rage, our confusion, the feeling that we are imploding, or the unease of watching the world as we know it come undone? We need to write, resist, converse, circulate, share. How else are we to make sense of our rage, our sense of confusion and implosion, or the unease of watching the world as we know it come undone? We must write, resist, keep talking, keep circulating, keep sharing.
Terremoto returns with its twenty-fifth issue, dedicated to visual militancy and aesthetic defense as forms of political critique rooted in art and antiauthoritarian thought. These two concepts are essential in the face of the far right’s rise across the region, where its predatory political projects advance, in part, through the plunder and appropriation of our critical images, the erasure of memories of resistance, and the enclosure of aesthetic imaginaries capable of challenging dominant ways of seeing, thinking, and inhabiting the present.
We return to paper with the conviction that indignation needs language and imagination needs accomplices. We hope these pages will allow us to think together and become a refuge for building other worlds.
