Copy of Monet’s The Cliff Walk at Pourville Oil on Canvas Sean Dolan Class of 2020 First Place Visual Arts
3
Table of Contents Adibe, Nnaemeka: 22 Anaya-Ruiz, Jesus: 10 Arnold, Olivia: 11, 60, 61 Benedict, Allie: 9, 19, 59 Bohorquez, Karinna: 15 Bohorquez, Kimberly: 15 Cabrera, Lillian: 38, 68, 69 Casal, Watson: 52, 64 Casillas, Mark: 40 Centola, Michael: 24 Daly, Emma: 15, 25 Del Bosque, Camila: 10, 26, 42 At Top:
Del Bosque, Julia: 25, 28, 30, 37, 4, 47 Delaney, Dylan: 62 Delaney, Morgan: 27 Denton, Megan: 47 Devine, Paydn: 14, 32, 41, 61 Dolan, Sean: Cover, 15, 44, 45 Didier, Natalie: 7, 18, 53, 63 Fleming, Jago: 8 Ford, Olivia: 7, 19, 24, 26, 36, 57, 58, 62, 73 Fox, Berry: 11, 21 Gregory, Samantha: 12, 33, 40, 63 Harlow, Mac: 22
Afternoon
Henriquez-Quallo, Elliana: 50
CeDaniel Sumpter
Heery, Emma Neal: 14, 16, 74
Pinhole Photograph Class of 2019
Hicks, CJ: 51, 56 Hobbs, Connally: 35, 37 Jackson, Julia: 61 John, Sarah: 42, 48 John, Sophia: 47 Jones, Dylan: 21 Jones, Olivia: 13, 32, 67 King, Jackson: 50 Krupczak, Leah: 18, 20, 58 Lajara, Gilberto: 61 Lassing, Anabela: 54 Lehmann, Jackson: 17
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Lehmann, Virginia Claire: 19
Ugly Face Jugs
Clay Mugs
J. Fleming, J. Martinez and L. Krupzak
Li, Jack: 39, 50, 65 Li, Jenny: 9, 10, 61
Intro to Art Class
Liao, Cynthia: 34, 44, 45 Lindholm, Sophia: 24, 58
Southworth, Nicole: 33
Mason, Mary Palmer: 16, 21, 23, 56
Stagliano, Rosie: 7
McGrath, Erin: 60
Tijar, Haben: 12
McKie, Jalal: 53
Turpin, Kaley: 13, 15, 33, 37, 39, 49, 75
Muñoz, Regina: 32, 38 Napier, Claire: 34 O’Hare, Dylan: 25, 53, 74 Oliver, Luke: 11, 20, 26, 47, 74 Oliver, Josh: 6, 46, 54, 65, 66 Parker, Terrance: 12, 18, 28 Pineda, Diana: 45 Pineda, Sofia: 13, 28, 74 Ruiz, Alex: 36, 55, 57 Sautre, Marie: 63, 75
Tyer Jones, Bradley: 18, 39 Watson, Ariel: 29 Wright, Morgan: 17, 29, 31, 73 Zhang, Jack: 20 Senior Concentrations Lillian Cabrera: 68-69 Olivia Ford: 70-72
5
Redemption Oil on Canvas
Josh Oliver Class of 2019
*Honorable Mention*
6
Monet Copy Oil on Canvas
Rosie Stagliano Class of 2020
Fox Tangle
Illustration Marker
Natalie Didier Class of 2021
Winded
Digital Photograph
Olivia Ford
Class of 2019
7
A Man’s Best Friend By: Jago Fleming Class of 2020 Periodically, miracles can enter our lives when the overbearing weight of our responsibilities and stress makes us want to punch a hole in the wall. They change us, impact our lives like a meteor, and leave beautiful craters on our hearts, another brick for our foundation, one more piece in the jigsaw puzzle of life. The rare miracles can only be counted on one’s fingers; they make up the bookmarks of life. In 2012 a miracle came to me; it was few and far between. Our cat had come from a place where he was malnourished and dying. He was scared of us but learned to trust and love us because we treated him like our own family. He became one of the best pets we would ever have and marks a milestone of my life I will never forget. It all started around March, in 7th grade when Hugo, my brother, wouldn’t stop whining for a cat. I didn’t see any real reason for the family to get one after just one earful from my dad about the extensive care needed to own a pet cat. We already had a pet dog, Chief, and I was worried about how he would react to a cat trying to steal his spotlight. My mom, the superhero of our family, came to the aid of my little brother almost immediately. She played to Hugo’s defense and agreed that a cat would be an excellent present for Hugo. After weeks of battling my dad, my dad finally caved in, and we set out to PetCo on a chilly Saturday morning to meet our future family member. We were aware our lives were about to change but very unprepared for what would happen. We spent around an hour with the cutest kittens, talking with the lady and admiring the balls of fluff so eager to greet these new humans with harmonic meows that sounded akin to the melodies of an angel’s harp. We watched as the lady gently approached a cat with a coat that closely resembled chocolate-oreo ice cream, with chocolate sauce liberally slathered down the summit of its back, it’s tail dipped entirely in the precious commodity. It was he who we wanted, and as she let him down, he widened his eyes in fear of the giants that stood before him. Of the giants, he decided then and there the one of least threat to him would be the smallest one and would later learn to love that giant more than any other human. The lady explained to us the horrible experiences he faced in his kittenhood. His mother had died in front of him; he was forced to scavenge food and fight even his brothers and sisters for food. He had been unaware that when the giants took him from this place of suffering, he would be in good hands. He had to watch giants in large white cloaks hold him down and poke and prod him without his consent, unaware of their intentions to save his life and help him heal. He was scarred for life, but even bruises can be beautiful if seen from the right angle. We were ready to adopt him. We thanked the lady and walked out with a new family member, CR, for Christopher Robin. The adoption place decided to name the cats after Winnie the Pooh characters, and we decided to keep the name the cat was used to hearing.
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Daisy
Cut Paper Collage
Jenny Li
Class of 2021 Bottom pg. 8:
Cats
Acrylic on Canvas
Allie Benedict Class of 2021
We arrived back at home, the door to CR’s cage opened gently, to not disturb the already fear filled animal. After a few seconds, he walked out into the unknown environment of his new home. An exotic dog of considerable height stood before him. His tail swung back and forth, ears perked up and eyes wide to greet the new family member. Eventually, they would become best friends. They would sit with one another, lay with one another, sleep next to one another. CR was finally happy. For the first time, he had a family that loved him, and he loved them just as much. He was always there for them when they needed someone to keep them safe. In the rare occurrence that a nightmare awoke someone, he was there and ready to protect them from any danger present. In reality, we all knew he would bolt at the very sign of danger, but we played along with his act. He was our lion, and we knew we could not function without him. Years passed and trips to the vet became more frequent. He suddenly became more loving now, almost always wanting to spend time with us. I would come home from school, exhausted and burned out. He was always there, awaiting my arrival for food and affection. In his presence, all other worries vanished, and I could relax. Each day, leaving for school became more challenging. We all knew. We weren’t ready. We were happy, and he was happy. That’s all that mattered. I ran upstairs on a Saturday night, it was late May, and school was nearly out. I found CR laying by a chair he usually sleeps on. Petting him I realized, he felt cold. He wasn’t breathing; I yelled for my parents. Chief walked over slowly and laid beside the one energetic feline. We knew CR had a heart defect. His heart had fewer chambers than a normal one; he was born like this. His life expectancy was chained down from the start. The vets had estimated at least a few more months from him, but Death had other plans. All joy and happiness in the house had evaporated. We moved silently and with hurt. Minutes later we were out in the backyard, digging through Georgia clay to make a hole for our deceased pet. I was angry; I wanted to cry. After a few heartfelt goodbyes from the family, we said goodbye to one of the best pets one last time. I would never see him again, never hear another sweet meow, another purr from him again. He was gone. Sometimes miracles enter our lives, illuminating our minds and hearts with warm, glistening light. We cherish that light, knowing that one day it will fade away slowly. We are afraid to enter a reality where the miracle has passed, where we don’t know if there will be another miracle; one where we have no idea what to expect. I understand that CR is a miracle that still illuminates my past, one that will forever be a part of my life. My miracle was CR, and he taught me to open up to change and embrace it, because the next miracle could always be hiding in even the smallest things.
9
Le Fleur
Watercolor
Jenny Li
Class of 2021
Sadness
Acrylic on Canvas
Camila Del Bosque Class of 2020
Blast Off
Cut Paper Collage
Jesus Anaya-Ruiz
10
Class of 2020
At Top:
Kylie Triptych Acrylic on Canvas
Berry Fox
Class of 2021
Sunset in Winter
Watercolor
Olivia Arnold Class of 2022
Nebula
Acrylic Pour
Luke Oliver Class of 2019
11
Fun Run Shirt Design
Digital Illustration
Samantha Gregory Class of 2021
Self-Portrait Mixed Media
Haben Tijar Class of 2019
12
Louis T
Pencil Drawing
Terrance Parker Class of 2020
London Rain
Illustration Marker
Olivia Jones Class of 2021
Bottom Left:
Buoy by the Sea Digital Photograph
Kaley Turpin Class of 2021
Copy of Rivera’s Nude with Calla Lilies Oil on Canvas
Sofia Pineda Class of 2020
13
Fab Fish
Illustration Marker
Emma Neal Heery Class of 2020
*Honorable Mention*
The Monster Inside Me
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Ceramic Tile
Paydn Devine Class of 2021
Unite
Art Stix
Sean Dolan Class of 2020
Bird, Bunny, and Seal Plaster Figures
Karinna Bohorquez, Emma Daly, and Kimberly Bohorquez Class of 2019 and 2022
Boats
Pencil Drawing
Kaley Turpin Class of 2021
15
At Top:
Galaxy
Acrylic on Canvas
Emma Neal Heery Class of 2020
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At Bottom:
Morning Glory
Digital Photograph
Mary Palmer Mason Class of 2019
This is breaking, Bleeding, Bruising.
Breaking By: Morgan Wright Class of 2019
This whirlwind will sweep me away, And I won’t try to stop it. This is what it feels like Inside of a dying star, Without air or light, Burning without heat. This is a vacuum, A place with no air and no darkness. If only I could find that place, Maybe I could sleep at night. I am shattered on the ground, Stardust and ashes and imprints And only I can fix me But I can’t, I don’t know how. So I’ll just sit back and watch the light fade from night to morning. Untitled
Digital Photograph
Jackson Lehmann Class of 2021
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Untitled
Top Left:
Griffin
Illustration Marker
Acrylic Painting
Leah Krupczak Class of 2021
Terrance Parker Class of 2020 Bottom Left:
Bottom Right:
Peacock
Self-Portrait
Bradley Tyer Jones
Natalie Didier
Cut Paper Collage Class of 2021
18
Pencil Drawing Class of 2021
Altar Flowers Charcoal
Allie Benedict Class of 2021
*Honorable Mention*
Nativity
Clay Figures
Virginia Claire Lehmann Class of 2021
Untitled
Digital Photograph
Olivia Ford
Class of 2019
19
Treasure
Cut Paper Collage
Leah Krupczak Class of 2021
Self-Portrait Mixed Media
Jack Zhang Class of 2019
20
Under the Sea
Gel Print
Luke Oliver Class of 2019
HSCC Window Charcoal
Berry Fox
Class of 2021
Shine
Digital Manipulation
Daniel Jones Class of 2022
Grazing
Digital Photograph
Mary Palmer Mason
21
Class of 2019
Montana
Acrylic on Canvas
Mac Harlow Class of 2021
Climbing a Mountain By: Nnaemeka Adibe Class of 2019
10,000 men are climbing a mountain All of them want to be at the mountain’s pinnacle They are human They know it would not work in union The smart man knows to be cynical Starting off, a man has to find the right path He needs the right tools He needs to know common rules The climb may seem simple, but it turns to a bloodbath A man would give a helping hand in exchange for another’s tools A man would push another down the mountain like a fool A man would create a landslide behind his track A man would steal the items another packed
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To get to the top, is there a need to make everyone stop? To win, is there need to commit sins? To find a better foothold, does one need to be bold? To move up a yard, does one need to work hard? Few men arrive at the summit Newcomers appear wanting a chance to reach the cap They shake the mountain causing it to collapse All those on the mountain begin to plummet The newcomers are getting ready to compete The mountain is beginning to compile The previous climbers are left immobile The mountain is complete 10,000 men are climbing a mountain
Fog
Digital Photograph
Mary Palmer Mason Class of 2019
23
My Dog
Digital Illustration
Sophia Lindholm Class of 2022
Elephant
Pencil Drawing
Michael Centola Class of 2020
Untitled
24
Digital Photograph
Olivia Ford
Class of 2019
Little Five Points Acrylic on Canvas
Julia Del Bosque Class of 2020
Currents
Oil on Canvas
Dylan O’Hare Class of 2019
Octopus
Stuffed Animal
Emma Daly Class of 2019
25
Shattered Digital Scan
Olivia Ford
Class of 2019
*Honorable Mention*
Pixel 5
Sharpie Marker
Luke Oliver Class of 2019
Lose Yourself
26
Art Stix
Camila Del Bosque
Class of 2020
Perfectly Imperfect By: Morgan Delaney Class of 2020
Everyone strives for Perfection. That I know is true. And the definition of Perfection can be different for everyone. It could be the feeling that you belong in a certain situation. It could be knowing you are unconditionally accepted by your peers, or by your family. It could be superficial or tied to academic or athletic performance. Or it could just be knowing that you are wanted. The problem is that Perfection is a sin. The want to become Perfect clouds the minds of many. The thing is that when someone reaches that Perfection, they set a new goal of Perfection for themselves. It is never done. The cycle of Perfection tears you down inside and becomes an obsession. And Perfection is an impossible standard placed on everyone. Someone may be labeled as perfect, but deep down they are broken - shattered by the weight of attempting Perfection. What is it about our world that creates the idea of Perfection? True Perfection is non-human. Humans are inherently imperfect, but as individuals we still label others as the ideal or Perfect. To be accepting of imperfection is to be accepting of humanity. In order to break these unattainable standards of perfection, one must break through the cycle. Only by breaking down these expectations of unattainable perfection can humanity finally reach true happiness. Maybe we should be asking each other “So, what is your imperfection?�
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Atlanta
Acrylic on Canvas
Sofia Pineda Class of 2020
Dancer
Illustration Marker
Julia Del Bosque Class of 2020
Pump It Up
Acrylic on Canvas
Terrance Parker Class of 2020
28
Self-Portrait Mixed Media
Morgan Wright Class of 2019
Sunset at Dawn Acrylic on Canvas
Ariel Watson Class of 2019
29
Copy of Afremov’s Ballerina Oil on Canvas
Julia Del Bosque Class of 2020
3rd Place Visual Arts
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The Stronger of the Species By: Morgan Wright Class of 2019
Shatter the glass ceiling. Dance on the broken shards, And when they cut your feet, Let your blood run for the women who came before. Let the pounding of your feet Be the drums to which we march. Make a new world, All your own. Make it in your image, And make it just. Remind the world That we are more than pretty faces. Show them the raging fire within. Let them remember, That it was Eve who reached for the apple, That Cleopatra didn’t need a husband, That Helen laughed when the men went to war. Make them watch As you etch your destiny into the stars. Soon they will remember, The female is the stronger of the species. 31
Top Left:
Cafe Bliss
Pencil Drawing
Paydn Devine Class of 2021 Top Right:
Prayer
Charcoal
Regina MuĂąoz Class of 2019
HSCC
Charcoal
Olivia Jones Class of 2021
32
French Horn Pencil Drawing
Samantha Gregory Class of 2021
Vroom-Vroom
Pencil Drawing
Nicole Southworth Class of 2022
Caught in a Loop
Digital Photograph
Kaley Turpin Class of 2021
33
*Honorable Mention*
Your Reflection By: Claire Napier Class of 2023
Hello. Wonder why I look so familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on who I am? I am your reflection, but more specifically I am a reflection of the things you can’t see, and can’t escape. I am the faults that you stumble over every day, the dark creeping feeling of never being good enough. I am the holes and bumps in your relationships that you try desperately to cover up with materialistic items but fail. I am the cracks in your seemingly perfect life, those that cannot be filled and will not stop growing. I am the edge that you see in yourself but cannot sand down, the things you like but more importantly the things you don’t. I am the anxieties and the worries that snake their way into your sub-conscience, the ones that seem to eat you alive. I am everything you are inside and out, everything you cannot run from. You can wear a pretty face and put on a happy smile, but you can never hide from me. Breaking Free
Art stix
Cynthia Liao Class of 2019
34
Stairwell
Pencil Drawing
Connally Hobbs Class of 2021
Hello. Wonder why you don’t recognize me? I am your reflection, but more specifically, the things you can’t see but feel. I am the light smile you wear every day that warms the hearts of others around you. I am the kindness you spread each day through small, meaningful acts. I am the compassion you show others and the hopes that you hold close to you. I am the faith that radiates from your heart whispering to you that everything will be okay. I am your talents and your successes, even the small ones. I am the swell of pride you feel in your heart when someone compliments your work. I am the beauty in the uniqueness of you. You do not have to make me beautiful, but you do. You cannot always see me; some days you don’t even. know I exist, but I am always there and I never leave. 35
Sun and Sea
Digital Photograph
Olivia Ford
Class of 2019
Atlanta on my Mind
Watercolor
Alex Ruiz
Class of 2019
36
Top Left:
Squid
Mixed media
Julia Del Bosque Class of 2020 Top Right:
Hummingbird Cut Paper Collage
Connally Hobbs Class of 2021
Summer
Digital Photograph
Kaley Turpin Class of 2021
37
At Bottom:
Ode to Growing Up
Diet Coke
Gel Print
Lillian Cabrera
By: Regina MuĂąoz Class of 2019 When we are young, we do not give much thought
Class of 2019
In a blink of an eye, a graduate
About time and how fast it seems to fly.
Walks down, all grown up with her cap and gown.
I remember the glitter that mom bought,
Flashbacks hit my mom of the times I ate
So I could make crafts. But my mom would sigh,
Spicy food, and I could not keep it down.
And just go inside. I thought she was mad, But I realize what it was about.
She laughs, and with her iPhone snaps a pic.
Time itself made her sad. Thinking she had
Alas, the memories will always stick.
All the time in the world, but life took route.
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The ATL
Acrylic on Canvas
Jack Li
Class of 2019
2nd Place Visual Arts
Retro Rollercoaster Digital Photograph
Kaley Turpin Class of 2021
All Stars
Pencil Drawing
Bradley Tyer Jones Class of 2021
39
It’s Pronounced Klee Watercolor
Samantha Gregory Class of 2021
GOAL!
Cut Paper Collage
Mark Casillas Class of 2022
40
Jordan
Cut Paper Collage
Paydn Devine Class of 2021
*Honorable Mention*
41
Opposing Twins By: Sarah John Class of 2023
Both Images:
Self-Portraits
Acrylic on Canvas
Camila & Julia Del Bosque
Class of 2020
“You look wonderful, sweetheart. I knew that dress was meant for you the moment you picked it out,” my mother cooed as she clutched her camera close to her chest. “Thanks, Mom! That means the world to me, since you helped me pick it out,” my sister descended the spiral staircase with an air of superiority I knew was directed at me. I chose to ignore it and put on my headphones. “Don’t worry, Jaz. Maybe you’ll want to go next year.” she simpered, but speaking just loudly enough to interrupt my music. I rolled my eyes and decided not to respond. If anyone asked me, it would be one her old boyfriends, since that was the entire grade. Serena and I were twins, though we couldn’t be more different. She was pretty, popular, and obnoxiously smart, which was totally unfair. Why couldn’t she be only one high school stereotype? I was, well, the opposite, which I had accepted long ago, along with the fact that pimple on my nose was never going away. I was an average student with average athletic ability, so I was practically ordinary in everything. Except for two things: One, my below average good looks (someone clearly stole all of the good genes) and two, my crimson dyed hair, which was a stark contrast to my blue eyes. I twirled my hair around my finger and pulled the headphones off my head. Staring pointedly at Serena, I gave a fake smile. Oh, don’t worry about me,” I said, although she never worried about me anyway. “You have a good time at the dance with your numerous friends.” my fingers drummed across the marble cover of my laptop. “Jasmine, are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” my sister swirled in her black lace dress, pointedly ignoring my remark. “You can wear one of Mom’s dresses!” she proposed.
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I scoffed. “No thanks,” the venom in my voice wasn’t hidden. My mother had chosen her only good dress to wear that night since she and my father were headed to some fancy restaurant. That meant I would be left at home alone, again. _______________
“Ugh! No, no, no! You have GOT to be kidding me!” I groaned as I stared at the snapped black stiletto lying on the floor. This was her favorite pair of shoes. Mom was going to kill me. But I had no time to worry about that right now. Gabriella was going to be here soon. She was my newest friend, and I couldn’t let her down already. That being said, I had to use Jaz’s shoes. Jaz was my twin, who I really did care about. I doubt she could say the same to me. I bothered her, I knew that, but it was not my fault. I was smart because I strived for better things. Popularity came easy to me because I was a genuine person. Granted, I was just pretty, but she was too. When we were younger, we were so close. No one could tell us apart. But at some point, she realized she couldn’t keep up with me. She rebelled and left me holding the bag. She didn’t care about her class, friends, or anything else. She focused on two things only: hating me and acting like she was different. I snuck into her room, grabbed her white heels and quickly descended the stairs. My mother cooed and I gave some generic response. In reality, my eyes were on Jaz, wearing her sweatshirt and listening to music. I knew it was useless, but I attempted to engage Jaz. “Don’t worry, Jaz. Maybe you’ll want to go next year.” I tried, but the moment the words left my mouth, I regretted it. Why couldn’t I leave her alone? “Oh, don’t worry about me,” she simpered, her eyes glued to her heels on my feet.“You have a good time at the dance with your numerous friends.” I won’t deny I was hurt by what she said, but when you live with her, you learn to control yourself very quickly. But I wasn’t letting it go. “Jasmine, are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” I tried once more. “You can wear one of Mom’s dresses!” I grasped at anything. She rolled her eyes at me and said something I couldn’t hear. Her words were drowned out by the sound of Gabriella’s car horn from outside. I opened my front door and ran down the steps into the fresh air, determined to really enjoy myself for once.
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The City
Acrylic on Canvas
Cynthia Liao Class of 2019
*Honorable Mention* Top Left pg. 45
Liao
Illustration Marker
Cynthia Liao Class of 2019
Family Tree
Watercolor
Sean Dolan Class of 2020
44
Peachtree Road
Acrylic on Canvas
Sean Dolan Class of 2020
Mayan Calendar
Watercolor
Diana Pineda Class of 2022
45
Patriotism
Ceramic Tile
Freedom
Luke Oliver Class of 2019
By: Josh Oliver Class of 2019 Red White and Blue, all too true. When we think of free, this is what we see.
So when we gave our 28 grievances, We too were ready for the consequences. But to our surprise, sweet Liberty to see, When upon our biggest victory.
The 13 stripes of red and white, to symbolize why we start a fight. Then we see the stars, numbered in total 50; To show our biggest power, unity.
Then the aftermath dawn, the start of stability does spawn. From the beginning of the nation, a new type of freedom had begun.
46
Untitled Art Stix
Julia Del Bosque Class of 2020
Perfection By: Sophia John Class of 2020
Third Place Literary Arts
Perfection is an illusion Of dangerous things A hope unattainable The promise of kings
Perfection is a beacon The lure of the heart A flicker of beauty Where life falls apart Perfection is a figment Like the desert mirage A delusion of grandeur That breeds sabotage
Perfection is an ailment The most crippling fright That the love you imagine Might never be right Perfection is an illusion Life’s cruelest creation So be defiantly imperfect It’s a far better vocation Untitled
Digital Photograph
Megan Denton Class of 2022
47
The Dark By: Sarah John Class of 2023
“Look around, Natalie. What do you see in the room?” I stood a step behind her, speaking softly. “My usual office, right? Is there anyone else in here?” Natalie shook her head. A whimper escaped her throat as her eyes drilled holes into the ground. “It’s empty, Dr. Ross. And it’s staying that way.” “Correct, dear. I’m going to leave the room and turn off the lights,” I spoke slowly, knowing too well how easily Natalie spooked. “And what’s going to happen?” “The room will stay empty, and I will stay in here for…” her voice faltered. “For a minute. And I won’t panic or scream or cry.” “That’s my girl,” I held Natalie’s shoulders and forced her to face me. It took a few seconds for her shattered gray eyes to meet mine. “I believe in you. You will face this.” No verbal response was given, but I could see determination lurking across her face. I squeezed her shoulders and walked to the door. I looked back one last time to see Natalie clutching her shoulders, as if she was to receive a blessing from a priest. I quickly flipped the light switch and ran from the room. Sitting outside were her parents, staring at me hopefully. I managed to give a reassuring smile. Natalie had been my patient for the past six months due to her crippling fear of the dark. Although she had improved tremendously, I was terrified I had finally pushed her limits too far. One, two, three. No sound could be heard anywhere. Four, five, six. Come on, Natalie. Seven. A screech pierced the stagnating air. Wails and tears followed shortly after. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson stood up suddenly, their faces
48
slack with terror. I whirled my head around and ran into my office, fumbling with the light switch. Natalie was on the floor, her auburn hair clinging to her face from the tears. She was rolled onto her side, her hands in the same position as before. I knelt beside and gently lifted her into my arms. No words passed between us. We simply sat there for a moment, wondering how to proceed.
Unknown
Digital Photograph
Kaley Turpin Class of 2021
49
Grindle Point
Cut Paper Collage
Jackson King Class of 2020
Untitled
Mixed Media
Jack Li
Class of 2019
Koi
Acrylic on Canvas
Elliana Henriquez-Quallo
50
Class of 2022
*Honorable Mention*
Oh Aegaeon, oh Aegaeon God of thundering seas, my true bliss
Oh Aegaeon By: CJ Hicks Class of 2022
I long to be drowned by your currents at dawn A lover of the tide almost gone Since Emathia, your unknown mistress Oh Aegaeon, oh Aegaeon Zeus strikes upon me, a royal thief lighting my sails, where art thou? Must resist I long to be drowned by your currents at dawn My bones creak, aching for relief My grave shall be your floor, my home further than this Oh Aegaeon, oh Aegaeon The salt of your sea I’m drawn The oceanic abyss I long to be drowned by your currents at dawn I lack brawn Spoken by men in hiss Oh Aegaeon, oh Aegaeon I long to be drowned by your currents at dawn
51
The Porter and the House-Thief By: Watson Casal Class of 2019
“Oh hail, what’s the cause of that sadish demeanor That lengthens your face?” asked the Porter. Replied “Know I naught.” did the sorrowful House-thief. “But had I known I would not tell you.” “Oh come!” said the Porter. “Oh come now, appease me! I have nothing else now to do, sir. If peace you desire, I swear I’ll not leave thee Until I have heard a good answer.” “Good God!” cried the House-thief. “Cannot but you exit? I have not the time for your bother. My death I’m to pay, I’ve been sentenced today and I wasn’t allowed to say bye to…” At this the man faltered, he’d said quite enough, and He knew now the Porter would sit there Until he had known who the House-thief abandoned Without a goodbye to sustain them. “My sympathies pull me, Dear Friend.” said the Porter. “I’m sorry you could not escape now. If only to say a farewell to that person Who now will not know that you loved them.” “My friend and my fool!” laughed the House-thief politely. “Tis not by our words we are loving. For words are struck pale when their fortune’s unsightly; They fail right when push comes to shoving.” “But how does she know of your love and now sorrow If words you are never supplying?” Replied the poor House-thief: “She knows that I love her Because it is me who is dying.”
52
Reflected
Digital Photograph
Jalal McKie Class of 2022
*Honorable Mention*
Choir Loft Charcoal
Natalie Didier Class of 2021
Remy
Pastel Drawing
Dylan O’Hare Class of 2019
53
Out of this World
Acrylic on Canvas
Anabela Lassing Class of 2021
Real Friends
Dry Point Etching
54
Josh Oliver Class of 2019
Redemption
Art Stix
Alex Ruiz
Class of 2019
*Honorable Mention*
55
Aloha Loa
Digital Photograph
Mary Palmer Mason Class of 2019
You’re Human By: CJ Hicks Class of 2022
You’re human
Be joyful
Emotion does not
Smile and show others
Make you weak
That there is happiness in
So get angry Right the wrongs
Emotion does not
They have made
Mean weakness
Against you
It means strength
Break down
You’re human
Scream, sob, shatter So your heart may empty Just to be filled once more
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This cruel world
Pensive
Mixed Media
Alex Ruiz
Class of 2019
Autumnal Bliss
Pinhole Image
Allison Riley
Class of 2022
Arrogantly Shabby
Digital Photograph
Olivia Ford
Class of 2019
*Honorable Mention*
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Lamp
Pencil Drawing
Leah Krupczak Class of 2021
Non-Landscape
Digital Photograph
Olivia Ford
Class of 2019
Untitled By: Sophia Lindholm Class of 2022
I am a vulture surrounded by death Scavenging for a body that’s breathed its last breath My beak digs into the cold, raw meat Eternally searching for a lost melody, an absent beat Gliding over a valley filled with empty gravestones Reminding me my only friends are skeleton bones The city as lifeless as the carcass on which I feast One more fallen soldier lost to the beasts.
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Hypogriff
Illustration Pen
Allie Benedict Class of 2021
How they sit in their towers, so pretty, so fair Their empty eye coffins, their void lifeless stare For me, the ugliest vessel of all to see Must have been a mistake to let air be wasted on me Morphing from host to host, hidden in shadow Surviving as one who’s lost its sway and glow Alone. Lost. I must survive, my final drive, Staying Alive.
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Lamp
Pencil Drawing
Olivia Arnold Class of 2022
Untitled
Digital Manipulation
Erin McGrath Class of 2022
Still Life
Oil on Canvas
Natalie Didier Class of 2021
Solar Flare
Pinhole Photography
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Megan Denton Class of 2022
Ugly Face Jugs
Clay Mugs
O. Arnold, P. Devine and Jenny Li Class of 2021
Dino
Illustration Marker
Julia Jackson Class of 2021
Beakers
Watercolor
Gilberto Lajara Class of 2021
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Sparks
Digital Photograph
Olivia Ford
Class of 2019
Charger
Pencil Drawing
Dylan Delaney Class of 2022
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Illumination
Acrylic on Canvas
Natalie Didier Class of 2021
*Honorable Mention*
Sloth Tangle
Untitled
Marie Sautre
Samantha Gregory
Illustration Pen Class of 2021
Clay Mug
Class of 2021
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What is Free Verse? By: Watson Casal Class of 2019 First Place Literary Arts
Hailed as the high art, the pinnacle of poetry, Open to preceptors and pupils alike, Free Verse is known as the great equalizer, Balladry beyond Balladry.
Yet, some stubborn few hail back to earlier times, land of rhythm and meter, sitting, as bulwarks of the past; oil rigs in a vast sea of hurricanes against the voracious tide of non-measured, non-rhyming verse. I am one such oil rig. I have no love of the incessant rant, that discordant cacophony of syllables that don’t quite fit, that consumer of forests for unsated angst and invented diplomas, that venter of hormonal disharmonies and mediocre wordplay. “Ghastly. No one reads it, no one listens to it.” “Like playing tennis with the net down.” So other writers have wrote, and I’m not inclined to disagree. I prefer poems with order, or Real Poetry. Quotes from Felix Dennis and Robert Frost respectively.
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What They Want
Art Stix
Jack Li
Class of 2019
*Honorable Mention*
B-29
Oil on Canvas
Josh Oliver Class of 209
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Love and Heartbreak By: Josh Oliver Class of 2019 The first time is always the best.
because there are no prices.
It will always have a place among the rest.
The privacy beats everything,
One day you meet a girl,
the only thing you need you bring,
and it seems as if you have found a pearl.
is yourselves.
So it began,
Between ourselves,
it feels like a plan. In the beginning nothing can keep us apart.
We cannot say what we do,
There we were heart to heart.
and these things you never want to undo.
It was the beginning of a story, our love shone brightly.
More time goes by, to the point where you look in each other’s eye,
The beginning is always the best, Your heart is always pounding in your chest, A date every week, and you’re sure you’ve hit your peak. Nothing can beat this time, because all you do is climb.
and know exactly what’s going on. However, when you look once, you see a new spawn. Nothing like you’ve seen before, just a complete horror. I ask what’s wrong, But the pain it only prolongs.
Car rides together singing along, to our favorite songs. Then time goes on, we grow of each other more fond. Once we realize money is not infinite, we still are more magnificent. Instead of the movie’s or dinner, we see another light glimmer. Going to each other’s houses,
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I don’t want to be with you, it is simply true. If I’m being honest, I have not been all I promised, I’m surprised you never knew that, I never loved you. This was one of my worst pains. Now all that remains, Is a broken guy, whose love has run dry.
Heartbreak
Acrylic on Canvas
Olivia Jones Class of 2021
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2019 AP Studio Art Concentrations Since 2008, Holy Spirit Prep has offered AP Studio Art as a course option in the senior year. This course allows advanced art students to develop an independent portfolio to showcase their abilities, develop their unique artistic voice, and earn college credit for their efforts. The course is extremely demanding, and students are required to complete 24 works of art for the final portfolio. 12 of these are dedicated to a singular theme or “concentration.” An AP concentration demonstrates a student’s mastery over a given medium and explores a topic close to the heart of the artist. Developing a cohesive body of work is a great challenge and requires hours of dedicated studio time. All works are due to the AP board the first week of May for judging. AP Studio Art is one of the most demanding and respected classes a student can take. The next few pages highlight the work of this year’s AP Studio Art class with a brief introduction to their concentrations. At press date, these concentrations were still a work in progress. I hope you enjoy! - Mrs. Rondeau
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My concentration expresses my enjoyment of life. I chose to depict candy and sweet treats to incorporate my love of bright colors and my appreciation for pop art. This series also allowed me to use my favorite technique, paint pouring. I began by creating paint pours on each canvass for a background. Paint pours are created by mixing acrylic paint and pouring medium to create a flowing liquid that is poured on the canvas randomly. I then tilt and rotate the canvas to blend the paints together. I have little control over where the paint goes, but that adds to the child-like quality and charm of it. I painted the sweets over the paint pours with acrylic paint. They are simple shapes but fun and remind me of my childhood.
Lillian Cabrera 69
Series 1: Nyctohylophobia In my series “Nyctohylophobia,� I portray my paranoia of getting kidnapped in a dark wooded area. Kidnapping has been an often discussed topic in my family and on the news, thus leading to my phobia. This series highlights how my paranoia has influenced my worst nightmare. Each photographs are both underexposed and blurred to resemble the movement of running through a forest. My images depict the point of view of the victim as they run to escape. Versus using a filter, I created the blur through physical camera shake and rotating my lens while shooting with a slow shutter speed. Because kidnapping is rarely seen by a bystander, there are no human subjects in the photograph. I want the viewer to not just see what the victim would see, but to feel the same unease.
- Olivia Ford
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Series 2: True Colors “True Colors” is about exploring the contrast between ow we describe the color of food and what it actually is. Pineapples are “supposed” to be yellow; grapes are supposed to be “purple,” apples - “red” and so on. But have you ever stopped to ask if they really are? What makes food real, is the browning or yellowing they show as the food ripens and ages. In today’s world, we are often so focused on something looking perfect, that we ignore weather or not it is good. My series also touches on the use of fruits and other foods as an artificial dye. Many consider it a more natural and healthy way to dye items, but some research suggests that this practice may create more challenges than artificial dyes. - Olivia Ford
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Series 3: Scanned “Scanned” is a self-portrait series created using a flatbed scanner. I wanted to capture myself in a unique way that allowed for viewers to understand who I am. This form of self-portraiture was inspired by first “artwork” that my family hung on the wall. My dad kept a scan that I did of my hand in his office for years, thus sparking my motivation to capture myself through a different form of photography. Each scan is captured in one take, allowing for no control over elements while taking the scan. I chose to use the things people associate me with to show the viewer who I am and what is identifiable about me. I love traveling out of the country, and I have a strong connection with my sister. I have a passion for photography, reading and music. The pictures do not show my face because, as a photographer, I am used to being the one behind the lens and not in front of it. - Olivia Ford
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They tell you, “Nothing lasts forever.” --I will They laugh, “No one will follow you.”
I Am By: Morgan Wright Class of 2019
Second Place Literary Arts
--They will They mock, “No one will remember you.” --You will They sneer, “You’re not enough.” --I am They look in awe. --I am, I will, I have been and I will be long before and after them --I am --I am --I am (I dare them to forget me)
Overwhelmed
Digital Scan
Olivia Ford
Class of 2019
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Hindu
Illustration Marker
Sofia Pineda Class of 2020
Ambo
Pencil Drawing
Emma Neal Heery Class of 2020
DB-11 Aston Martin
Colored Pencil
Luke Oliver Class of 2019
Blond
Craypen Illustration
Dylan O’Hare Class of 2019
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Ingenium
Staff
Olivia Ford, Editor Ariel Watson
Morgan Wright Sean Dolan
Layout Advisor: Mrs. Rondeau Literature Advisor: Mrs. Reger
Special Thanks to Samantha Gregory Angst
Acrylic on Canvas
Marie Sautre Class of 2021
Round+Round
Digital Photography
Kaley Turpin Class of 2021
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4449 Northside Drive NW Atlanta, Georgia 30327
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