THE MAGAZINE TEAM
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
JENSEN PUCKETT
LEAD COPY EDITOR
ALANA LOINAZ
ADVERTISING ASSOCIATE
PAYTON SMITH
MANAGING EDITOR
GIA KRUPENS
ART DIRECTOR
CAROLINE BAE
DISTRIBUTION MANAGER TULASI NAPOLITANI
MAGAZINE STAFF
Jensen Puckett, Editor-in-Chief jpuckett@22westmedia.com
Gia Krupens, Managing Editor gkrupens@22westmedia.com
Alana Loinaz, Lead Copy Editor aloinaz@22westmedia.com
Caroline Bae, Art Director cbae@22westmedia.com
Tulasi Napolitani, Distribution Manager tnapolitani@22westmedia.com
Payton Smith, Advertising Associate psmith@22westmedia.com
COVER DESIGN
Caroline Bae, Illustrator @eunhasumyeon
VOLUNTEER MEETINGS
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CONTACT US
Email: info@22westmedia.com
Instagram: @22westlb Mail: 1212 Bellflower Blvd, Suite 108 Long Beach, CA 90815
Disclaimer and Publication Information: 22 West Magazine is published using ad money and partial funding provided by the Associated Students, Inc. All Editorials are the opinions of their individual authors, not the magazine, ASI nor LBSU. All students are welcome and encouraged to be a part of the staff. All letters to the editor will be considered for publication. However, LBSU students will have precedence. Please include name and major for all submissions. They are subject to editing and will not be returned. Letters may or may not be edited for grammar, spelling, punctuation, and length. 22 West Magazine will publish anonymous letters, articles, editorials, and illustrations, but must have your name and information attached for our records. Letters to the editor should be no longer than 500 words. 22 West Magazine assumes no responsibility, nor is it liable, for claims of its advertisers. Grievance procedures are available in the Associated Students business office.
LETTER FROM AN EDITOR
Hey y’all!
Happy December! It’s officially the time of year when everyone remembers their New Year resolutions and begins to “better themselves” for the next year. It’s a time when everyone looks back and reflects on their experiences. A retrospect is a review of past events, and this year has been a crazy one; there is so much to reflect on. I hope you enjoy everything written from poetry to short stories to Long Beach history. I’m so proud and excited about every piece, written or illustrated, here. This issue is bittersweet for me as it’s my last one. The last three years at 22 West have made my college experience; I’m forever grateful for that and everyone who’s interacted with our magazine! As always…
Live, laugh, love,
JENSEN PUCKETT EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
CONTRIBUTORS
Wanna be on this list? )––
August Berrios, Writer
Diego Lievanos, Writer
Eric Ceja Ruiz, Writer
J Quinzelle, Writer
Keanu Hua, Writer
Kevin Garcia, Writer
Lei Madrigal, Writer
Leyna Vu, Writer
Theo Tang, Writer
Victoria Isabela Franco, Writer
Andre Chris-Sargent, Writer and Artist
Jo Lin, Artist
Tina Hung, Artist
Mika Huynh, Artist
Daniella Martin, Artist
Izzy Ringman Flores, Artist
Moonie Vergara, Artist
Serena Logan, Artist
Gerricka Dacpano, Artist
SUBLIME LINEAGE
Intro
If you had to think of a Mount Rushmore-esque list of the most monumental ska-punk bands, Sublime would have to be up there without a doubt. Born in our beautiful city of Long Beach, Eric Wilsion, Bud Gaugh, and Bradely Nowell started one of the most pivotal music projects back in 1988. As the band was gaining popularity, Bradelly Nowell would celebrate the birth of his son Jakob, in 1995. However, just a year later, in 1996, the band’s momentum was halted when Bradely Nowell, Sublime’s lead guitarist and singer died of a tragic heroin overdose at the young age of 28. This led to the dissolution of one of Southern-California’s most influential bands of the 20th century. Even with the band’s untimely breakup, the influence and noterighty of Sublime would continue to live on and is now picking up where they originally left off with Bradelys son, Jakob, taking the reins as new lead singer and guitarist.
The posthumous influence of Sublime
After the tragic passing of Nowell and the subsequent break-up of Sublime , the band released multiple posthumous albums ranging from acoustic renditions of their tracks, live recordings, and demo albums. Their releases pre-breakup had continued to gain more and more popularity and the later aforementioned records gave something for the vast amount of diehard fans to latch onto. Furthermore, their influence led to a surge of “reggae rock,” bands that would continue to create a sound that defines parts of Southern-California. This heritage that the band created was even seen on the other side of the United States with a band called Badfish. All the way from Rhode Island, they gained their moniker from one of Sublime’s most popular songs with the same title. Badfish aimed to fill the void that was missing in the music world because of Sublime’s dissolution. They acted as a tribute band, seeing good success for a handful of years. Badfish, however, wasn’t the only tribute band around the Long Beach area. We’ve seen many bands try to follow the footsteps of the greatness that Sublime had laid out in the world of music. With the ever-growing popularity of the band through the years, the lasting members of the band grouped up with new lead Rome Ramirez to try and continue where they left off. This had a huge impact on the scene because it gave fans an opportunity
to see the band since the break-up and for some they were able to experience the band for the first time ever. However, this was short lived because the band was threatened with legal action from Bradely Nowell’s widow, Troy Tendekker. The reason Nowell’s estate sued the band was covered in an article written by Billboard back in 2009, in which the statement laid out “It was Brad’s expressed intention that no one use the name Sublime in any group that did not include him, and Brad even registered the trademark ‘ Sublime ’ under his own name.” Consequently, the band changed their name to Sublime with Rome, and settled on good terms with his estate. After this tumultuous period, Sublime with Rome would continue to see success throughout the 2010’s even after Gaugh’s eventual departure from the band. Although the band would still continue to garner success and the support of the great OC community because
“I’m still putting in my work here, man. So for me, getting to play with Sublime, it’s like a custodial duty.”
of their sound, influence, and continued adherence to what made Sublime so popular in the first place, they announced their breakup in early 2024. In a “Rolling Stones” piece on the breakup, Rameriaez mentioned “serious health issues and some life-changing incidents within the past year.” Their breakup was also catapulted by Wilsion’s departure that same year to play with Jakob Nowell, to truly reignite the power of Sublime
Jakob Nowell’s Path to Sublime
Being a child of a huge musician or any high standing individual can breed a stigma of nepotism, and Jakob has clearly laid out that the path to reuniting what can be seen as the “original Sublime” was a rocky road to ride on. In an interview with “Rolling Stones,” Jakob said to reporter Bian Hiatt: “When people see me joining this band and they must think, this kid must’ve just been handed everything. But the truth is, it was really not easy at all growing
up,” highlighting how a big part of his path to being Sublime’s new lead came with years of rough tribulations and uncertain situations that allowed him to grow into the musician he is today. Jakob continues by stating: “I’m still putting in my work here, man. So for me, getting to play with Sublime, it’s like a custodial duty.”
Jakob displays an itch for music as his creative outlet, which mirrors the reasons why Sublime saw so much success during their hay-day. But the hardships he faced growing up didn’t just make him into the musician that he is today, as mentioned previously. They formed him into the man that he is now. Furthermore, his statements against some people thinking he is a product of nepotism adds fuel to the original ideologies of Sublime and punk bands as a whole. Mentioning to Hiatt about his time with his grandparents after moving out from his mothers home saying, “It had nothing to do with the fact my dad was in a big rock band. People don’t understand, he died before their time. There were no big parties in Beverly Hills with them. They were a punk-rock band — they wouldn’t have wanted that shit to begin with.” If even success can be related with monetary gain, one must imagine how proud his dad would have been for sticking with the ideas surrounding the band to begin with. Moreover, Jakob has shared his struggles as a musician that artists and bands alike may struggle with at the beginning of any musical endeavor. He said: “When I moved up to Long Beach and decided to start music, where was the nepotism, man? I would have loved to have a fucking leg up. No, man. We would book tours in Colorado and then the promoter would ghost us at the last minute,” continuing to echo similar aspects of his father’s musical journey to find solid success.
Conclusion
The impact that Sublime has had over the years has had a special mark on the music world that is extremely hard to replicate. But, even with the values and influence transcending the bands break up all the way back in 1996, Jakob’s new place in the band has truly picked up where the band left off all that time ago. As time goes on, the importance of Jakob’s role in Sublime will show people to see why punk rock never dies.
THE YEAR OF SPORTS
WRITTEN BY KEVIN GARCIA ILLUSTRATION BY TINA HUNG
Sports have long served as an outlet for inspiration, bringing individuals from all walks of life together via their love of athletics. Three athletes in 2024 are changing our perception of sports and what it means to be a star, going beyond simply winning matches and setting records. Today’s sportsmen are not only legendary in their own sports, but also in the impact they’ve had on other spaces. They’ve become well-known worldwide and have ignited significant global debates.
Shohei Ohtani, Travis Kelce, and Simone Biles stand out as outstanding illustrations of this development. They are all pushing the limits of their respective sports, changing the rules of celebrity, and making a lasting impression on world culture. As a reminder that even the best athletes require care, Biles, (the most decorated gymnast in history) has turned into a champion for mental health in sports. With his dominating play that helped the Kansas City Chiefs win another Super Bowl, Kelce has become well-known in pop culture. Ohtani has emerged as the face of baseball by transforming the game with his ability to be both a pitcher and a hitter.
In the 2024 Olympics, Biles, with her incredible performance, has once again reached new heights and inspired both fans and competitors. She demonstrated unparalleled talent, tenacity, and mastery upon her return to the world stage, showing why she is considered the best gymnast of all time. In addition to winning her more gold, her routines, which were full of breathtakingly difficult and distinctive components, also changed the boundaries of gymnastics. Biles’ return is evidence of her ongoing influence and spirit, motivating athletes around. Biles left a lasting impression that solidified her reputation as the greatest gymnast of all time. She took home four medals from the Games: two golds, one silver, and one bronze. Her accomplishments were particularly noteworthy in light of the difficulties she encountered in successfully returning from her absence from the Tokyo Olympics due to mental health issues and the “twisties,” a disorder that causes confusion during
gymnastics routines.
With back-to-back Super Bowl wins in 2024, the Kansas City Chiefs have established themselves as an indisputable power, which has only enhanced their history and drawn attention to star tight end Travis Kelce. With his legendary connection with quarterback Patrick Mahomes, Kelce, who is wellknown for his athleticism, commanding presence on the field, and exuberant demeanor, has played a significant role in the Chiefs’ success. Their strong bond has made Kelce one of the NFL’s most dominant players and has provided fans with exciting performances and memorable plays, especially during high-stakes situations. Partly due to his relationship with Taylor Swift, Kelce’s fame has
“They are all pushing the limits of their respective sports, changing the rules of celebrity, and making a lasting impression on world culture.”
soared beyond the realm of sports. As a result of the couple’s public appearances, interactions, and mutual support for one another’s talents, their relationship has not only made tabloid headlines but also ignited a momentous cultural movement. His social media following has grown rapidly, and he is now more visible than ever, which has led to more options for endorsements and appearances in the media. Additionally, the connection has paved the way for discussions regarding how celebrity relationships affect athletes’ marketability and appeal. These days, Kelce’s charm and attitude are just as important to his rising stardom as his skill on the field. Whether in interviews, on his podcast, or on social media, his wit and humor have led fans to see more than just his physical accomplishments. Travis Kelce’s influence in 2024 is evidence of the changing role of the modern athlete as a crossover icon who influences both the sports and pop
culture worlds. He has back-to-back Super Bowl rings, a flourishing public relationship with one of the biggest stars in the world, and a fan base that crosses both sports and pop culture.
As someone born and raised in Los Angeles, one of this year’s key moments was seeing Shohei Ohtani take the Dodgers to a World Series win. Walking through the streets of LA, you can feel the buzz that hasn’t been felt in a really long time, from kids sporting his jersey to local businesses thriving on the foot traffic of fans flocking to see him. In addition to strengthening Dodger fans, Ohtani’s success has increased our diverse community’s sense of cultural pride. Ohtani has emerged as a figure who crosses cultural barriers and attracts new Dodgers supporters to the city, which is home to one of the biggest Japanese-American communities in the nation. On game days, local Japanese eateries in communities like Little Tokyo are frequently crowded as fans assemble to support him. It’s encouraging to observe how Ohtani’s achievements spread throughout Los Angeles neighborhoods, building a larger, more diverse fan base that captures the variety of our city. The Dodgers Stadium evolved this season from a ballpark to a community center. Every game was crowded with fans, and the average attendance hit all-time highs, turning Chavez Ravine into a hive of LA culture. For those of us born and raised here, 2024 feels like the beginning of a new era in Los Angeles sports thanks to Shohei Ohtani and the Dodgers. This season has reminded us why we love this city and why we love our teams, as the Dodgers’ championship journey has become a story that belongs to all of Los Angeles. I am proud to be a Los Angeles Resident.
Overall, Shohei Ohtani, Travis Kelce, and Simone Biles have redefined what it means to be an athlete in the modern era, making the 2024 sports year a historic occasion. With a historic Dodgers World Series victory, a football player in pop culture, and a successful comeback as a gymnast, these players have inspired millions and changed the sports world, proving that true greatness transcends records.
What’s in my SHOEBOX?
ARTICLE AND PHOTOS BY LEI MADRIGAL
This is a wallet I bought on Depop in 2020. It was my wallet for about three years until I decided I needed to grow up a little and get rid of my pink puppy dog wallet. It was kind of embarrassing being an adult and pulling out my baby wallet every time I needed to pay for something. I replaced it last year with a boring, forest green, leather bi-fold wallet I bought on Etsy. The pink puppy dog wallet is still one of the cutest things I own – it’s just retired to the depths of my closet now. Somehow, the wallet reminds me of being young, which is funny because it’s not like I’m 80 years old reminiscing on the life behind me. But I am 21 years old reminiscing on being 17 with a pink puppy
KEYS WALLET
consistently breaking down on the highway every other week, and I needed a more reliable car to move to Long Beach with. It survived the first year of college, then, in September 2022, it was killed by a Tesla. On the corner of Lakewood Blvd. and Willow St., a Tesla driver was pulling out of the Starbucks drive-thru, drink in hand, and drove straight into me, totaling my car in an instant. These keys are all that remain of it now, along with a ton of photos and videos of it. We remember you in our hearts, Luke. The legacy of the Scion lives on!
This one is more recent, from last July – it’s a small printout from my friend with details on the routes we were climbing that day in Stoney Point. She printed copies of a page from the climbing guidebook “Urban Rock” for me, her, and another friend who was with us, so we’d all have the same info when it came to routes, anchors, grades, and whatnot. It was our last climbing trip with her before she moved to North Carolina. She and I had met as coworkers at the SRWC Rock Wall, and she taught me so much about climbing. I learned basically everything I know about lead climbing and outdoor climbing from her, and she helped me become more confident in my climbing, routesetting, and life overall. Shoutout to Jessica!
FIGURINE PRINTOUT STICKERS
This is a Pichu figurine that I used to play with as a kid. I lived on a ranch in Northern California for the first eight or so years of my life where I would just walk around the woods with my toys and my dog, Charlie. Last year, I went back to the ranch and found an old toybox of mine in the garage that had been left untouched for more than 10 years. There, I found the Pichu figurine and took it home to store in my memory shoebox. I used to bury this Pichu in the dirt and throw it into trees for fun. I miss being a kid when my biggest problem was a rainy afternoon keeping me from playing outside. My childhood days on the ranch were spent reading the same books over and over, teaching myself how to use a desktop computer, exploring the woods with my dog and playing with hand-me-down toys. Not a care in the world!
This is a sheet of stickers that one of my best friends got for me when she studied abroad in South Korea a few years ago. She was the first friend I made after transferring to a new elementary school in 2009-ish, and now, she’s the friend I’ve had the longest throughout my life. Each sticker on the sheet she had specially made allegedly says my name in Korean. But I asked my aunt who is fluent in Korean if the spelling is accurate, and she said it says something closer to “Lilani” than “Leilani.” Close enough! I use these stickers to mark my belongings, like phone and laptop chargers, so I can easily tell them apart from others’. It’s a cute, personalized gift that she probably doesn’t know I use pretty frequently.
These keepsakes remind me of the life I’ve lived. It’s strange to think that the life I have now is the same one I lived as a child and teenager even though every phase seems so distant and different. How is baby me the same person as college me? And how will college me become elderly me one day?
home
A LOOK BACK ON MY SOON-TO-BE THREE YEARS IN THE COUNTRY
WRITTEN BY ALANA LOINAZ
ILLUSTRATION BY DANIELLA MARTIN
It was on January 12th, 2022, that I stepped foot in the United States of America for the first time. My first semester of college was completely online due to COVID, so I didn’t enter the country until the second chapter of freshman year. LAX was the first thing I laid my eyes on when we landed. My parents had flown with me to get me situated on campus and I had finally arrived at a new destination – something I was very used to doing. Despite being born and raised in Brazil, I always traveled a lot due to my dad’s marketing career. Hey, we even lived in Mexico for a couple of years! This time was a little different though – I was going to move. Like, move, move. Move out. Move away. Mooooove, with many O’s. The longest I had been away from my parents was 31 days when I went to New Zealand for a summer program. This was all new to me, but weirdly enough, I never once felt scared or doubtful. California instantly felt like home away from home, even though it wasn’t – at least not just yet. My first year of college, academically, was great. Classes were easy, professors were fun, friends were always texting me to hang out, and dorm life was alright. The only thing out of place was my panic disorder. I was still testing different medication doses (with my psychiatrist’s assistance, obviously), and something about my anxiety just wasn’t right. I had made so much progress in the past, but it all seemed to had set back. My mom was getting middle-of-the-night calls from me in a complete stage of panic. It’s not like there was anything she could physically do – I was about 6,152 miles away from her. Music helped me a lot – especially singing, since I’ve been working on this career for as long as I can remember. To this day, I don’t understand why my second semester of college was so emotionally draining. Maybe it was being away from everything I had ever known – but I deny it. Aside from that, I made amazing memories. Got to be on a bunch of film sets and found my passion for documentaries and my hate for fiction films. This led me to journalism, which is where I now stand. I’m writing this from my desk at 22 West Magazine, which will always be a place of comfort to me.
Summer between freshman and sophomore year was good. I don’t remember much of it except it was a normal vacation back home. I took an online course, hung out with all my friends and family in São Paulo, and didn’t once miss the United States. I was home! August came by, and exactly a week
before my flight back to California, I was hospitalized. I had chest pains and was diagnosed with myocarditis – a heart inflammation. Mine was caused by a virus of a cold – one I had gotten in the US about three months prior to that. I canceled my flight and took a gap semester to recover and make sure I was alright. I was hospitalized for about a week and got all the treatment that I needed. However, during my stay, they found out I had the same heart condition my dad has: Brugada Syndrome. I had always been tested for it, but it would always be negative. This time, because my heart was not as strong as usual, they saw a change in my electrocardiogram that was indicative of this condition. My family and I were used to it by then – my father, brother, and uncles all have it. After the diagnosis, they ran a bunch of different tests on me, and despite having the condition, I do not need a defibrillator like the rest of my family (YAY).
I had finally moved back to the dorms after a semester of bed rest and recovery. It felt so weird to be almost in upper-division standing. I was still going to frat parties and trying to make the most out of the “college experience.” Classes were still pretty easy content-wise, but the workload was getting heavier. This is when I got my first job in the US – yay! I was hired to be a Rockwall and Outdoor Shop Attendant at CSULB’s indoor rockwall. Climbing brought me so much self-discovery that semester. To me, that meant I could do anything. I was still singing and playing the piano in a designated room we had in the dorms. I met my first – we’ll say love – that semester. Before him, nothing I’d ever felt for guys had gone beyond physical attraction or a crush. This experience changed my way of looking at things – I was much more open and sensitive than ever before. He was from England, which later turned out to be the place I went to for the rest of my 2023 summer. While taking the train from his place to the airport, we ended things. Distance was not an option for us (him). Despite it being quick, it was incredibly intense. Everything was too much: the love and the pain. I needed a break from all the emotions I had been dealing with for months. Fall 2023! I missed him – or the “idea of him.” Still not sure which one. He wasn’t going to come back to the US and I wasn’t going to go to England. So, now… what? Life. When I say life, I mean surf. Surfing was a breath of fresh air, kind of like eating your favorite meal when you are starving, taking a cold
shower when it’s 120 degrees outside, or finishing the biggest assignment of your life – but, better. So much better than anything you can come up with. The ocean was the main character of that semester, along with being in a new dorm with a new roommate I absolutely loved. Everything was insanely great – as usual, I was surrounded by friends. I got an insane amount of film set experience and my anxiety still acted up a bit, but not nearly as much. I was a junior in college living my absolute best life. Nothing could top that – and I don’t think anything did. Fall 2023 was the best semester of my college years (so far).
My second semester of junior year was not as great – I had many uncertainties and mixed feelings about many aspects of my life. I felt lonely despite never being alone. My eating disorder was acting up and my nights felt a little empty, scary. I still surfed quite a bit and learned a lot about my field of study, but this semester is still blurry to me. I was judging myself too hard and not living in the present, so we’ll leave this paragraph a little more blank – to represent my still confusion.
Summer between junior and senior years was awesome – I was doing an assistantship and living at my best friend’s house. After that was over, I went home for a bit. Brazil was nothing but wonderful. I missed my second home – California – and at this point my first home was already a point of visit, not stay, for me. I got back and moved to a house. Life was (is) great, except I was (am) a senior. I knew how challenging this first semester of senior year was going to be – and it was (is). I am packed with not just assignments but big projects. Some of them mandatory, some not. I still haven’t learned to say no to opportunities. I feel like I can handle anything and everything that is dropped on me – and for the most part I do. This semester has been very important to my journey of self-discovery. I know what I am capable of doing but also understand what I can’t control. I’m truly trying to not be so hard on myself and let things flow, but many of the uncertainties and mixed emotions I had last semester are still here.
Wow! This doesn’t really paint a picture of how much the past three years mean to me, but it’s a start. Remember me – I’ll come back next semester with more life updates.
A LOOK BACK ON MY TIME AT 22 WEST
WRITTEN BY JENSEN PUCKETT
ILLUSTRATION BY
JO LIN
If you told me four years ago that I’d be writing this as Editor-in-Chief of a magazine on campus, I would have never believed you. After all, I moved here to pursue a career in film. Then 22 West happened. I emailed someone three and a half years ago about volunteering. I thought maybe I could do some photography, which was my major at the time. Instead of information on how to volunteer, I got information on how to apply for a job. I was working at Krispy Kreme at the time and loved the idea of getting paid for something I would probably actually enjoy. Little did I know that 22 West Media would affect my college experience so greatly and completely change my career path.
What is 22 West Media? It’s a multimedia free speech platform for students, by students. What is it to me personally, though? It’s a place I found my voice. It’s a place I realized I love to edit. It’s a place where I made friends. It’s a place I learned. It’s a place I was given countless opportunities for achievement, whether that meant academically, professionally, or personally. To me, 22 West is the center of my college experience. It’s the only thing that really remained constant in my time here. I started off as the managing editor and I had no clue what that meant. It was a learning experience for sure. I was supposed to help edit, work on articles, organize, and upload things, but I was a pre-photography major and I had completed one semester of basic art classes. I didn’t know anything about how a magazine or newsroom adjacent worked. Thankfully, the old EIC and media adviser helped me. Thank you, Andres Leon and Danny Lemos; you were truly a part of my journey. Apparently, I liked the behind-the-scenes aspect
of producing a magazine. A lot. I liked it enough to change my major to journalism after the first semester I spent in the office.
As time flew, the former EIC graduated and, before I knew it, I was the replacement. As managing editor, I did what I was told and assisted where I could. As EIC, I now needed to learn how to lead, make important decisions, communicate with outside resources like printers, and be in charge. I was terrified. I didn’t want to make a decision that
“This wasn’t a place where I just came to work and completed tasks. It was a place I came to see people I loved.”
made anyone upset. I didn’t know how to organize and lead a team of people. I didn’t want to fail at anything I did. Spoiler alert: I did fail at some things, some decisions I made did indeed upset people, and not everything I did was the right choice. But I learned so much. I learned how to lead, how to communicate, how to take criticism, how to be okay with not making every party happy, how to make decisions I didn’t necessarily want to make, and how to own up to my mistakes. The list of things I learned in this process could be endless as I am still learning to the very end. I’m thankful for every decision I had to make and everything I’ve learned. Not only did I have the opportunity to learn and
grow as a leader, but I was given opportunities to go into the world and use what I learned. I was able to go to a collegiate media conference and collaborate with other student publications from across the country. I was able to travel for that and experience a new place I hadn’t been to. The sessions I sat through and the connections I made were so beneficial in where I am going to go in my career. I was also able to moderate “An Evening With” that ASI hosts. This gave me the opportunity to be a journalist; to ask questions with someone influential and to get out of my comfort zone in front of tons of people. The professional development I had at 22 West will be carried with me for the rest of my life. 22 West gave me a safe space to fail, learn, and succeed. It gave me a place to make friends. Some of the people I have worked with will be in my life forever. This wasn’t a place where I just came to work and completed tasks. It was a place I came to see people I loved. I never thought that I would want to spend so much time at a job, but the people around me made me love going to work. Reflecting on my time here is so bittersweet. I’m ready to move on, pass the torch, and begin my big kid life, but I’ll miss the environment and opportunities I’ve had here. I’ll miss the people I spend most of my time with. I’ll miss seeing other students succeed and be so proud of what they accomplished. I’ll miss opening the first box of newly printed magazines and seeing the beautiful creations that were made. I’m gonna end this before I get too emotional and sappy, but thank you, 22 West Media. Thank you for some of the best moments of my college career. I’ve loved growing into the person I am today here.
IN RETROSPECT OF ALL THAT’S FLEETING
As the year comes to a close I find myself once again in a state of retrospection, and in the same vein found face-to-face with what has become both my greatest fear and my greatest fascination: the fleetingness of, well, everything. I’m but a blip in my time, but even more baffling is that my time is a blip in itself. Everything, and I mean everything, is fleeting. If you’re lucky, the page turns; if you’re less so, it burns.
It seems time and time again we as humans get overly comfortable in the realities we live in. Even when we learn the stories of the worlds that came before us, they can still seem so far away. In many ways they can feel like just that, stories. Lest we forget, Rome was an empire once, too - as real and tangible and modern as all we see around us now. We’re made of the same flesh and blood and ego as those thousands of souls that thought that they, too, were living on the cutting edge of an unshakable new dawn. Our empire, too, is fleeting. Just as they never saw the fall coming, we’ll never quite know when our clock will run out. Our dark ages are coming, it’s just a matter of when.
Now, I don’t mean this to sound catastrophic; it’s not all doom and gloom and crumbling civil war. I’m not one to think of myself as a sensationalist. Hell, I don’t even think it’s coming anytime soon. No one knows. Things could all come crashing down before I’ve been here even three decades, but they could also blossom into something more beautiful than I ever imagined. The future can be dark or it can be filled with endless, boundless light. There really is no way of knowing, but one thing I do know is that no matter how dark an age that follows proves to be, there will always be a renaissance on the other side. And the pendulum will swing again and again, for who knows how long.
As for us, we live here, in this fleeting moment, for just our blip of time. At the same time, we hold a very special role - no matter how small,insignificant, or “average” we think ourselves to be. We are all seamstresses of this giant fabric of culture. Every little mindless and mindful thing that you do
and think and say becomes a ripple effect into this never ending quilt of humanity. I truly do believe that as humans we are so much less significant than we boast ourselves up to be, but as a human you are so much more significant than you will ever allow yourself to see. What makes an empire any less fleeting than a life? What makes a life any less worthy than an empire? What makes a moment any more fleeting than a century?
When they say you are the universe experiencing itself, I think in part it’s because you are creating the universe in real time. If time isn’t linear, as so many of the scholars are seeming to say, then you are creating everything that this universe is and ever will be, right in this very moment.
It’s easy to feel crushed under the weight of the future and pulled apart by the fleeting moment of the present, and as much as reflecting is one of my most natural, most beloved states to be in, there’s a limit to how much it can serve you. To practice
“We are all seamstresses of this giant fabric of culture.”
moments of retrospection is to analyze oneself, life itself, the divine itself - and appreciate it. To live in a constant state of retrospection, though, may be to miss it all entirely. So I remind myself to appreciate the sweetness in the fleeting moment, in all its wonder or banality. Oftentimes both.
As much as you can feel like you’re alone, and as much as the great dark of the day-to-day can feel so punishingly mundane, there truly are windows into the divine with some of those day to day moments. In many ways just 10 seconds of pure laughter can bring you closer to the Earth’s spirits than a lifetime in a monastery. You are here to laugh,cry, wonder, and chew on your thoughts as well as your favorite piece of sweet, buttery bundt cake. You are here to let divinity flow through you with each small, simple slice of life. It’s all here in
front of you. You don’t need to go searching for it or escaping away from it in search of something else. The mundane is divine, even at the same time as being that vast, great dark.
In the great dark lies the necessary contrast of realizing that you can’t be connected to the divine forever. Not yet anyway. You have to feel the mundane in order to understand the divine, the eternal. I think in many ways that’s part of our test here before we go, wherever it is we go. We have to let go; we have to surrender to that fleeting moment. We have to allow ourselves to endure the grunt pull of the daily anvil so that we may get those small glimpses into the doors of both heaven and Gaia, and at the same time find a way to make those glimpses worth it. If you can find a way to appreciate the glimpses, you can find a way to get close enough to that sun without letting yourself burn. You can flirt with the divine without falling to the fate of Icarus, but only as long as you promise to return back home after sunset. In that way will the great divine, whatever that may be, one day welcome you in open arms when your time does come. She’ll still be there, as she’s been this whole time. Until then, relish in all that is mundane, rat-infested, glowing, vile, fleeting, and beautiful.
In vastness lies possibility, but so too in that possibility lies chaos. Chaos, it seems, is the precursor to any order and at the same time the end horizon. It lies on the fringes, even in times where it seems hidden. Order itself is fleeting, intangible. There is no order without the chaos, there is no beauty without pain, and there is no retrospect without the flowing, fleeting present. We’ll never see what the future holds for ourselves or for each other. All there truly is, all we know for certain, is to simply be kind and be present, and to drink that present whole.
ARTICLE AND PHOTOS BY DIEGO LIEVANOS
You will have everything because you are everything, the universe incarnate. You’re an empire all your own; in each heartbeat lives a kingdom - in each breath, a realm. As cliche as it’s come to be, remind yourself that in each fleeting moment you are the universe experiencing itself. Surround yourself in a sea of love and life, and in that sea should it lead you adrift toward your next land of light, and the next, and the next, and the next.
FROM MADNESS REBORN
TRIGGER WARNING: self-harm
It’s impossible to read anyone’s story from appearance alone. Even with superficial interviews, the surface remains barely disturbed. I state this because, if you look at me today, all you’d see was a peppy Jurassic Park geek. Given how I represent my fandom, it’s hard to tell that behind the Hawaiian shirts and baseball caps is a journey soaked in blood and tears. And with that, a struggle to pull myself out of the mud.
I was born to immigrant parents in a small, but famous tourist town, which to my Los Angeles relatives meant that I came from a paradise. My parents presented as great parental figures, so the reality that my sibling and I were latchkey kids in a heavily racist and gang saturated town went unnoticed. My mom and dad were always at work. When my dad was home, he was very strict and obsessively valued education, so while he was on my case, I excelled in school. It wasn’t until my reality dissolved that education and mostly everything else no longer mattered to me.
In my teens, my parents split up. So, to not leave my father on his own, I chose to stay with him. This would turn out to be one of many mistakes I’d make which dragged me through hell. Long story short, my dad was always working, and I was left
to my own devices. I started running with a crowd I shouldn’t have. I started drinking and experimenting with drugs. I began to abandon my education to embrace the reckless lifestyle. My dad hated it, but he was always at work, so there was nothing he could do about it other than smack me from time to time.
During my teens, I was out of control. Partying, drinking, smoking, vandalism, all because I had no
“I was quickly accepted by her, as if I was a good person. That changed how I felt about myself.“
direction. The main lesson from my dad was the same line he always fed me without much support, “get good grades.” That, with little interaction, meant nothing to me at the time. Eventually, he would grow tired of the gossip surrounding him and move to Los Angeles, taking me with him despite my protests due to not wanting to leave my home. We left.
After turning eighteen, I somehow ended up back
in my hometown with my mom. I’ll be honest, my life then is a bit of a blur. All I recall is that I had a severe case of agoraphobia and obsessive-compulsive disorder, with clinical depression. I crashed hard. In retrospect, these illnesses stemmed from my dad’s bitterness towards my mom, when he would go on rants, badmouthing her, and the gaslighting he would do, compounded with his absence most times, and my low self-esteem. The low self-esteem and depression were so intense that I became suicidal, and then eventually became a cutter. Out of fear for my safety, I was admitted to psychiatric hospitals multiple times. My head was a mess, and it was about to get worse.
My mom couldn’t stay in my hometown due to financial reasons, so we also moved to Los Angeles. There, I was mostly isolated with no friends and little interaction. I started using the internet more, pirating MP3 and AVI media files, and reading fan theories on media I liked, since they got me through the day. That is, until I discovered an online dating site. Out of my loneliness, I posted an ad for a girlfriend. I didn’t know that the person who would reply was bedlam herself.
A woman eleven years my senior contacted me. We chatted, then met up. Right away, we had a connection. We liked a lot of the same things and
thought of similar ideas, and I didn’t feel alone. The more time I contributed to her, the more I drifted from my family. It turned out that she suffered from a mental illness, had a history with drugs, and was homeless. Because I didn’t want to lose my only connection, I decided to “help” her, which simply meant that I was going to sacrifice everything for her.
The woman was very manipulative and convinced me my mom was a terrible person and was after my income. So, believing this, I detached from my mom. I was now homeless with a crazy person, only to descend further into madness. In her instability, she would trash motels, pick fights with people, and cause scenes, having me assist or else it would be a betrayal. So, I complied. In retrospect, I wish I stood up for myself, but I was weak.
It wasn’t until she started turning on me that I saw her for who she was. When I started to miss my mom, the woman would verbally and even physically assault me with strikes and threats of commit-
ting suicide. She would threaten me with suicide so often that I always stayed and played her game. I felt that when we were together, I was the only one attempting suicide.
I don’t know what caused me to leave her for good. I guess I hit a hard rock bottom right before I left her. When I did, she had all my money and property as I wandered cities. I think it was a contact I saw on my phone (I only had a phone and cigarettes) which saved me. It was my mom’s. I hadn’t spoken to her in years.
I called her and, to my shock, I was quickly accepted by her, as if I was a good person. That changed how I felt about myself. The woman I “loved” made me feel crazy, diseased, and like a criminal. My mom helped me feel loved.
I returned to my mom, and she suggested I return to school. I figured that would keep my mind from painful fits of tears, so I enrolled in community college. My first semester was a disaster, as I soon dropped out after a crisis. It wasn’t until my second
attempt that it took. I felt a rush from education. It was the world I denied myself for so long.
I eventually graduated with an AA and AS in film, even earning a place on the Dean’s List, then transferred to CSULB. I am currently in my last semester before getting my bachelor’s degree. Although my self-esteem is still low, I have more confidence and pride than before, plus I no longer feel like a criminal. I look back on my life and can’t believe how far I’ve come. I look at where I’ve been and I swear I’ll never go back. I look at my future and I see a life after death. In the reflection of the mirror, I see my face and can tell from out of the madness, I have been reborn.
WRITTEN BY J QUINZELLE
ILLUSTRATION BY MOONIE VERGARA
Weaving wind knot
WRITTEN BY LEYNA VU
ILLUSTRATION BY MIKU HUYNH
Wake up, mope around, and repeat the next day. Maybe find inspiration for a drawing he’ll never finish. Since when did things get so bad?
The painter searches his memory but could only see her face. She was lovely beyond convention and had fingertips that could turn a blank canvas into a vivid dream. A truly ingenious touch. She was his muse, but now that she’s gone, who will he dedicate his work to?
His daughter sits nearby, marveling at yet another snowy day in the mountains. Even though she didn’t speak to her dad all that much, she liked painting with him, despite not being able to touch his brushes just yet. Rather, she likes to draw outside with a stick, letting her imagination roam as she creates scenes of her own. Will she bring her rabbit friend to life, or will she meet some other animal companion today?
However, she’s in the mood to try something different. Apologies to her friends who will have to visit her another day. While her dad was asleep, she went inside and eyed a recent piece. He’s been drawing a lot of landscapes, but she racked her brain for the last time he drew people.
Idling a bit further, she saw a portrait of a beautiful woman. She wasn’t old enough to remember the last time she felt her mother’s touch, but the image put her at ease. She yearns for when they were a family, when her father was happy.
Now that she thinks of it, it’s been a while since the last time she ate something. To be an artist is to be completely engrossed in one’s work, so she wasn’t mad at her dad for forgetting to be a dad sometimes. In a way, she wanted to work even harder to paint as well as him.
Returning to the yard, she drew something different in the snow: a lopsided portrait of her mom, dad, and herself. Smiling, she closed her eyes for a bit. She didn’t know at the time, but that drawing would be her last and greatest masterpiece. Waking up, she found herself wrapped in the
sweetness of spring. Sitting cross-legged, she’s greeted by the animal companions that once lived in her head.
“Why, hello, dear friend,” a bunny said to her.
The girl gasped with excitement.
“You can talk?”
“Of course, we can,” the bunny said in response, “and we want to play with you!”
The girl ran, tumbled, and laughed. Her days felt full, and the sunshine overhead seemed to shine unabashed. Her drawings got better too! In the morning, she makes paint with the sheep and receives lessons from the axolotl. Then, she visits her friend, the badger, for a hearty feast. He’s particularly chatty, so they often exchange words over cake and bubble tea. It’s been forever since she’s known such joy, but after years of this, she
Perched on a cliff, his daughter’s eyes crinkled in delight, capturing the moment in her own painting.
started to feel lonesome.
“Is something wrong?” a puppy asked.
“I love spending time with you all, but I miss my dad sometimes. I wonder if he’s happy back home.”
“We long for the days gone by, but yesterday’s past,” a frog with glasses told her.
“I suppose,” the girl said sadly, “I just wish I could’ve said goodbye anyhow.”
She pursed her lips before speaking.
“I know I’m dead. I’m imagining you all, but I wish I could use this power to help my dad.”
Suddenly, her world vanishes.
Her animal friends gone and the scenery drenched in gray, she’s met with a face that looks like her own, albeit well older.
“Is this truly what you want?” It asked her.
“It’s time that I grow up. I suppose you know that better than anyone else.”
The apparition smiled sweetly.
“I suppose I do. But that won’t stop me from wanting to protect the little girl I used to be.”
She returned the smile.
“I know, but I need to do this.”
Closing her eyes, the girl vanishes, leaving her older self to take care of past regrets. She materializes a painting in front of her, setting foot in the home she once cherished so deeply.
She sees her dad painting like always, his features worn and his expression dyed with grief. All these years, and he’s yet to finish a single painting.
The woman smiled sadly, but even in death, she never felt resentment against him. Pricking her finger with the carving knife in her sleeve, she brings a forgotten portrait to life, allowing her mother’s form to exit the painting that once kept her caged. Lifting her husband’s face, she gazes at him intently. His voice hoarse from lack of use or from crying all alone, he couldn’t find it in himself to voice the longing in his heart. How he misses her deeply and how his paintings lose their luster without her touch. He hides his eyes apologetically.
The wife understands, and she leads him to her portrait, inviting him to walk inside. When he entered the painting, he was astonished to find that her inner world was a reflection of their first encounter. Words weren’t exchanged, but every touch, stare, and smile felt like the first. Perched on a cliff, his daughter’s eyes crinkled in delight, capturing the moment in her own painting.
While years of grief can’t be reversed in a single moment, he felt truly satisfied. Nothing lasts forever, but he was ready to return to his studio. And what he saw brought him to tears.
Encircling his workshop are paintings of him and his wife, smiling and content. Coloring his inky world are paintings that capture every happy moment they’ve once shared, from their many firsts to their bittersweet lasts. However, he wasn’t looking at them.
His eyes lingered on a family portrait of him, his wife, and his daughter as he remembered her. Below the painting, he smiled upon seeing a hint to his daughter’s work: a bunny.
Satisfied, the woman left the studio and reappeared at the mountain’s summit. Her figure is translucent, but barefoot, it would appear that her feet are crunching snow. Relishing in simple pleasures like this, she doesn’t miss the dreams that die at first light. Rather, she finds joy in doing this small act of love for her dad. Dreams are filled with sweetness and warmth, but she’s always preferred snowy mornings.
the little dancer
WRITTEN BY
VICTORIA ISABELA FRANCO
ILLUSTRATION BY SERENA LOGAN
I dream too often
Of a past life of mine
A memory perhaps, Dancing on the baseboards
Of my subconscious
Colored lens mend my modern eyesight
A blanketed overlap of yellow hue
The once familiar moment
Melts with my favorite cinematic practitioners & pieces
Wes Anderson
Little Women
Sofia Coppola
A field of grass, stretches as far as the eye can see
A girl dances with the current of the green sea
She spins and pirouettes in her nightgown made up of texturized cream cotton
Seams of lace, coming undone near her ankles
She skips and pivots
Alongside the wind
Dark chocolate hair
Kissed with auburn streaks of light
Melt and drape over her back Strands prance against her waist
Wild grown cherries Bite at her lips
Her laughter echos faintly
As if I heard it once clearly
But now it is merely sweet sounds sewn together
She is as alive as the wet pasture she leaps on. As alive as the soil beneath her feet
And wind guiding her body
Sometimes I wonder if in this life I am her
Simply observing what my life was Or if perhaps
I am a lover
Admiring my muse
For each morning I wake, I am desperately longing to return to what was.
while spring cleaning
Wind rushing first, sharp chapping against grain: sand dusted skin and sand caked toes, thick, waddling thighs and short, curling fingers grasping smooth, colorful, porous stones…
“Cool rocks,” I called them and added to my count of special things, like Hot Wheels, just cheap toys, with Crayon detailing and peanut butter rims, each opened and named and kept with paper-scrap memories: ticket stubs and half torn name tags from people I can’t talk to anymore, their final syllables still in my closet, in a shoebox whose shoes are ratty and tattered, well-worn holes in their soles and laces fraying like nerves that ricochet bouncing off my bones— punching bullet holes in my veins—when I consider what waits ahead for my future.
The back of my arm itches where a bug bit tender, fat-full flesh
while I washed my car’s windows, their black seals cracked from too many days sitting out in the sun like an earthworm
shriveled after its yearning and fool-hardy escapade looking for rain;
I wonder when the clouds will break, storm will pass, light will shine, clear skies will come, and all the other metaphors
I wrap around my shoulders, like a cliche shawl woven with words meant to comfort, to keep warm, but they only fill shivery spaces with hollow syllables instead of some respite—I’m tired —and itchy— when I clean out the closet, pull out the shoebox and inside find autumn remnants of time. So this year
I’m grateful for dusty, grainy, memories.
goodbye stranger
POEM AND PHOTOS BY ERIC CEJA RUIZ
Went back to the past to see everything one last time. To no surprise, it was all gone.
I lived in the summer and enjoyed the fall until the last leaf reached its peak.
Thought that getting older was a curse, so I tried to catch the leaves before they hit the ground.
But I’ve come to realize that flowers only bloom once they die.
The moon is gone until next month, so the waves are slower as they prepare to say goodbye.
I sway with the trees, grounded underneath, but I’m tired of cycling just to never leave.
So now my eyes are away from the sun, the star that never seemed to grant the world a heart.
It hurt to break away from the only place that felt like a home. But I keep myself afloat as I walk a road paved on my own.
They told me that only the weak resort to poetry, but at least I get to display my heart for the world to see.
Because even loss can be comforting after a day of trying to win.
COMIC BY ANDRE CHRIS-SARGENT
