SUBMISSIONS OPEN: JUNE 8TH-JUNE 29TH

“There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.” – Ernest Hemingway.

Imagine how those first garden-fresh days on earth might have felt. Edenic, unspoilt. Just ripe. Each animal guided by their primal instincts alone, filled only with an urge to keep themselves alive – no matter the cost. A hunger they could not yet describe. Imagine how it might have felt tip-toeing through forest floors, landing your eyes on the perfect target. The sight alone gives you an impenetrable sense of humanity, of purpose. A drive that comes only from knowing exactly what to live for: the hunt.

Charged all over, electric, the adrenaline of the encounter courses through you. Every hair on your prehistoric body awakened. To finally wrap your lips around something once so elusive, so intangible – it’s addictive. It’s rewarding. It’s necessary.

Now, what we have left is the ability to idly wander florescent shopping aisles, aimlessly waiting for something to prick our appetite. Rows of vibrant red meat catch the eye but leave it inevitably unsatisfied. We sacrifice ourselves – to the static buzzing of a TV, to the confines of a too-comfy couch, to weekly rituals of ‘productivity’. To these idols we dedicate our lives. We tie ourselves to them, hoping they’ll drag us in some direction. We needed the hunt, so we created a dog-eat-dog world.

The hunting game is driven alone by a raw, primal desire for purpose. We have created a world where we no longer have to hunt for sustenance or survival, so what are we searching for? How far will we go to capture such an elusive target and moreover, will our hunger ever be quenched? Will anything else be able to satisfy our hunger for blood?