The Muse 2020

This year went differently than expected is‌ an understatement to say the least. Worlds were turned upside down, and many of us were left feeling lost and out of control of our lives. These feelings are normal and expected during high-stress times like these. However, there is something that can help ease those emotions.

As cheesy as it sounds, art is something that brings us together even though

we might be hundreds of miles apart. Photos can draw us back to a memory with a loved one who we need to feel close to in hard times. Literature can take us to another world when we need an escape. A shared experience is all we need to feel close to each other.

We hope that The Muse this year helps you feel closer to your friends and

peers even though you might feel unfathomably far away from them. Look at the beautiful photographs, admire the intricate artwork, and read the complex stories that your peers have submitted. Message them to talk about their work. Connect with your friends and loved ones.

Things are weird right now. We hope this will make it feel a little less weird.

With love,

Max Dearing & the rest of The Muse staff

Cover art by Vaniel Simmons, Editor: Anette Perez

Fourth District Congressional Art Competition.

Tracy Gwinn’s expectations weren’t very high when she dropped her piece off for the Fourth District Congressional Art Competition.

Gwinn (’19) said other contestants were dropping off their pieces at the same time and several had already dropped off their entries.

Gwinn had an opportunity to see exactly where her portrait hangs in the Capitol during a trip to Washington, D.C. . All of the winners received an invitation to the nation’s capital for a reception and other events. The trip was held June 2226, 2019.

Westerman showed her where the Arkansas winners’ pieces are displayed in the hallway leading to the Capitol. Westerman told the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette that he was impressed with the caliber of artwork submitted for the contest.

“I saw of couple of other pieces when I dropped mine off. They were really good,” Gwinn said.

Fortunately for Gwinn, however, the judges disagreed with her – at least enough to award her first place for her piece titled “Portrait 2.” The black and white drawing is the portrait of a man she drew during the second semester of her junior year.

“I worked on it in my free time initially, but I turned it in as an assignment for my capstone project,” she said. “Everyone really liked it. I compared it with my other pieces. It was in my top 3. I like the details I got on his face.”

“I’m glad I get other people to judge it because I don’t know if I could ever pick a winner.’ We get so many great pieces that come in,” he said in the newspaper’s July 1, 2019 issue.

Tracy Gwinn’s first place Portrait 2, a graphite portrait of a man

The portrait is inspired by a drawing she saw online. She doesn’t know the subject.

“I prefer not knowing the subject. If I do know them, I’m always extremely critical and think that it doesn’t look like them. Not knowing them gives me a little bit of leeway,” she said.

Gwinn also gave her approval of the artwork displayed in the hallway. She told the Democrat-Gazette that “It’s absolutely amazing.

I’m really imporessed with all of this stuff.”

Her mother is went on the trip with her. In addition to visiting the Capitol, they planned on visiting the Smithsonian Institution.

Gwinn attended the Savannah School of Art and Design in Savannah, Ga., this year. She is studying animation, leaning toward 2D animation.

“Tracy is a very independent student — very self-motivated and highly skilled in both representational art and pure design,” said Brad Wreyford, an ASMSA art instructor. “From the moment Tracy set foot on campus, it was clear she had creativity and craftsmanship to win a competition such as this.”

Sydney Davidson and Tracy Gwinn

Gwinn was announced as the winner of the annual Fourth District Congressional Art Competition in May 2019. It is sponsored by U.S. Rep. Bruce Westerman and is part of the larger national Congressional Art Competition. Sydney Davidson (‘20) also placed fifth in the 2019 competition.

First-place winners are selected from each U.S. congressional district. Their artwork is then displayed for a year in a hall at the U.S. Capitol.

“Knowing that my piece will be hanging in the congressional hall in the Capitol where congressmen walk every day is really exciting,” said Gwinn of Mount Ida.

Rep. Bruce Westerman and Tracy Gwinn, The Fourth District Congressional Art Competition winner.

Governor’s Young Artist Exhibition Special Award Winners

First Lady’s Award

Sydney Davidson, Portrait of The Artist and Her Dad

Judges Award

Gabriel Watson, Front Door

Accepted

Laura Hansen, Portrait

Best Painting Award

Catherine Kwon, My Forever Home

ASMSA students create ornaments for Governor’s Mansion tree

Wooden ornaments created by students from the Arkansas School for Mathematics, Sciences and the Arts graced the Governer’s Mansion’s Christmas tree in December 2019.

ASMSA was invited to participate in creating decorations for the tree that had a multi-national theme. This opportunity highlights the unique learning experiences ASMSA offers its students.

ASMSA may be the only school in the state offering wood fabrication under a creative umbrella and choosing Japan for the multi-national theme was a natural choice. Hot Springs

has had a Sister City program with Hanamaki, Japan, for 25 years and ASMSA has sister school partnerships with Hanamaki-Kita in Hanamaki and Tennoji High School in Osaka.

“The Japanese have a very rich, unique history of woodworking,” Brad Wreyford, instructor, said. “Their craft is different in application, purpose and even motivation.

Two Modern Design students — seniors Reed James of Harrison and Cooper North of Conway — designed and created the wooden ornaments with a Japanese approch to contribute to the Christmas tree.

Thea Foundation Film Scholarship Award Winner

Madison Esteves, Director, Writer, Producer, winner of the Kye-Yak International Scholarship in the Thea Foundation Film Scholarship Competition.

Esteves created a short film titled spineless. The story focuses on a puppet who breaks society’s rules and learns how to be a human. The majority of the silent film is in black and white, a choice Esteves thought put more emphasis on the story.

!

How It Works

00:02

Log In

03:32

spineless

‹

Browse Festivals

Share:

›

Still Photos

Project Type:

Short, Student

Runtime:

3 minutes 32 seconds

Completion Date:

March 14, 2020

Production Budget:

100 USD

Country of Origin:

United States

Country of Filming:

United States

Language:

English

Shooting Format:

digital

Film Color:

Black & White and Color

First-time Filmmaker:

Yes

Student Project:

Yes

Terms

Browse Festivals

Privacy

Testimonials

Benefits

Blog

Help

Contact

Logos

© FilmFreeway

The Fourth District Congressional Art Competition sponsored by U.S. Rep. Bruce Westerman and is part of the larger national Congressional Art Competition. Sydney Davidson, a junior at ASMSA placed in the competition.

Rep. Bruce Westerman and Sydney Davidson

×

" # $

Overview Credits Specifications

How It Works

Sign Up

Madison Mainer Emperor Moth

Madison Mainer Jellyfish

Aeralyn Flynn Marigolds, Honeycomb, and Facial Bones

Miranda Meredith Many Faces

Graphic Design Gabriel Watson, Self-portrait

Howard Orlina, Sculpture

Evan Ang, Engulf

Eilene Pearson Wilderness Collage

Eilene Pearson Drape

Mother Knows Best HarLeigh Smith

My mother always said I had better die radiating

elegance or something dramatic like that....

I grew up in Delaware in a small but well decorated house with only my mom and dad. The beach on Fenwick Island was my thinking place, especially in January. The air was like a slap in the face, but I found it refreshing. Most of my time was spent here, much to my mother’s dismay. She would have preferred that I spent more time with her at the country club making what she would consider proper friends.

She died seven months and four days ago, and for some reason, I expected it to be more of a Looking for Alaska situation. There was no before and after for me, though. One day I was rolling my eyes at her, and the next day I wasn’t. Everyone knew we didn’t get along, but no one talked about it. She was like a southern belle without the accent.

She’s the one who taught me to internalize everything, so when she died I didn’t get a shocking revelation or a new outlook on life.

I thought it would feel different to not have her there for special occasions, and it was but for different reasons than you would think. My seventeenth birthday was the first I’d had that wasn’t just another one of her social events, and Christmas wasn’t spent in some restaurant because “the house should not smell like food”. Now, I mostly watched my dad grieve day to day. He was the only person she showed an ounce of love to.

Today, I volunteered to go to the country club and get the rest of her things because I just couldn’t make my dad do it, and we had already put it off for so long. The sad stares from people who pretended to know her made me almost regret my decision. Normally, these people made me uncom-

fortable, but the pity from them made it worse.

Without saying a word, I gathered her things and made my way back to my car.

It was early, so I made my way towards the Charles W. Cullen Memorial Bridge wanting to waste as much time as possible. I knew it would take me about an hour to get to the bridge itself if traffic was good which wasn’t likely.

As expected, traffic was terrible, and for once, I couldn’t have been more grateful for that.

Occasionally, I would glance at the box in my passenger seat unable to stop myself from looking at it. I looked down one more time before looking back up and slamming on my brakes because the car in front of me was stopped. My heart dropped after hearing something slam into my dash then shatter, and I looked to my right to see a picture frame I didn’t pay attention to before. Making sure the car in front of me was stopped, I looked back at it again to see an old picture of my mom, my dad, and me. Before I had time to process it, traffic started moving again, and I was on the bridge.

I guess I didn’t realize I was crying until I couldn’t really see anymore. Even when my car slammed into the side of the bridge, all I could think was, “Get over it, Isabella. This isn’t very ladylike of you.”

I didn’t actually think my mother would be the death of me no matter how many times I said it.

And in my final moments, I didn’t think about all the things I was grateful for and the life lessons I have learned. I thought about the burns I had and the mascara on my face, and I swear I could hear her saying, “Young lady, how many times have I told you not to cry. No one wants to see you look like a mess.”

Takoya Marks Collage

Takoya Marks

Graphic Design - Self-developed Book

Hephaestus

The Big twelve The Gods and goddesses of greek mythos

Hephaestus was the lame son born of Hera, who at one point was cast out of Olympus. Married to Aphrodite, he is credited with creating the Gods fabulous weapons and equipment.

Additionally, he is also known as the God of Fire

He is often thought of as the second mostpowerful God after Zeus. In charge of all water bodies and their associated natural calamities, Poseidon’s influence also affected the seas and oceans, rivers and lakes, storms and hurricanes, tsunamis and earthquakes, as well as horses.

Hades

Hermes Hermes was originally described as a trickster like character who deceived, perhaps a little like Loki from Norse mythology. Over time, he became associated as a God of travellers and traders, but is most commonly thought of as the messenger between Gods and Men.

Cameron Elliot Booklet Cover

POSIEDON

After Cronus was overthrown by his sons, his kingdom was divided among them, and the underworld fell by lot to Hades. There he ruled with his queen, Persephone, over the infernal powers and over the dead in what was often called “the house of Hades,� or simply Hades. He was aided by the dog Cerberus.

Typical Spread

Graphic Design - Annual Report orem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Mauris sem sem, rutrum a sollicitudin vitae, interdum sed turpis. Maecenas aliquam molestie dolor, vulputate lacinia ante commodo

Annual Report eu. Curabitur in ipsum risus. Donec et arcu et dui semper viverra id at velit. Morbi iaculis hendrerit turpis sed aliquet. Fusce lacinia neque in urna interdum, facilisis mollis diam accumsan. Morbi volutpat ac erat sit amet feugiat. Maecenas non sem nisl. Aliquam erat volutpat. Nullam vulputate pharetra ligula vitae sodales.

Curabitur quis sapien ac massa adipiscing dignissim. Fusce auctor dui quis accumsan hendrerit. Nuncultricies nibh massa, sed eleifend massa vestibulum vitae. Nam bibendum dolor mi. Curabitur nec sapien suscipit, auctor metus quis, volutpat augue. Aenean sagittis magna eget sem sodales suscipit. Nulla molestie massa id tempus elementum.

Aliquam et aliquet leo.

Sed mollis, velit ac consectetur semper, lacus ante accumsan ante, et posuere odio lacus sed enim.

Vestibulum euismod nisi dui, sit amet luctus massa interdum sit amet. Etiam

Jason Hoang, Report Cover

ultricies sapien est. Maecenas sit amet euismod justo, in venenatis leo.

Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus

Our Goals

32% World Wide Market Share by 2020 5,200 Brick-and-mortar stores by 2021 12% Increase in minimum wage by 2022

orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Donec condimentum justo in elit volutpat ullamcorper.

Suspendisse bibendum neque eu nisi tempor aliquet. Donec tortor nisl, porta non orci ac, pharetra aliquam purus. Suspendisse vitae auctor sem. Nunc vel hendrerit felis.

Celebrating 50 years!

dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, cons ec-

Opened new distrubution center

+6.43% annual stock share increase

$1.2M donated to cancer resarch

Duis placerat nibh nulla, vitae sagittis neque lacinia sit amet.

Vivamus nunc eros, tincidunt nec bibendum at, tristique sed mauris. Vestibulum dapibus dui ac placerat dictum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Sed scelerisque, leo vel viverra rutrum, est nunc pharetra eros, nec vulputate elit

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum

Typical Spread

tetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate

Vraj Modi Graphic Design Self Portrait

desolation

Yasmean Dehaghani . remember the coffee stains on your white t-shirt, the thrill of our youth. boyish, unbroken, and new. your body covered in lace and mine. the sweet smell of your cheap perfume intoxicating me. i miss you. do you miss me? while you’re out with someone new, my heart aches, remembering the way your lips said you loved me.

Harrison Lehnen, Jungle

no one had ever broken me, but for whatever reason, i let you.

Catherine Kwon, Dream

Miranda Meredith Lollypop

Hadley Hooper Imagination

Alexx Weaver Calamity

Digital Photography - Megan Gray, Landscapes

Ryan Reynolds, Quarenteam - 3D construction

Graphic Design Jason Hoang Self Portrait

Digital Photography - Joshua Bryant, Memphis Bridge

Eilene Pearson, Unseeing

Digital Photography - Megan Gray

Megan Gray, Ceramics

Catherine Kwon, Old Mill

Sonnet No. 1 Lexi Hardin

My heart is your familiar welcome mat; The one now soiled with each wipe of your Feet. Stepping to the back, your hand on the door.

Past the window is my garden you look at.

Daisies standing in a charming format Of dainty white petals that you adore.

Now a bouquet of stems lie on the floor Next to wilted petals by where you sat.

Sitting on the ground saying “she loves me so” Followed by a doleful “she loves me not.”

While fighting to quiet your inner doubt, My scattered pieces let no pain show.

My love is blindly yours, without a thought.

You take, I give. My love is devout.

Digital Photography HarLeigh Smith Portraits

What is in a Letter?

Lexi Hardin

Hidden behind the arbitrary words of a letter lies the soul of the sender.

There are two types of letters that come from the heart: the calm and the chaotic.

A calm letter arrives on pristine sheets of paper, creased in an envelope-sized tri fold; Each pen stroke is even, breathable words fill the page in rows, looking like an army of ink.

That is the beauty of these letters: they are thought out, methodical, devoid of error.

These letters take time. Time to process before writing, time to form a sublime message.

If calm letters were to be a day, they would be a spring day.

A blue, spotless sky. Crisp air with a light breeze. So simple, yet still so full of life -- of meaning.

Chaotic letters are like thunderstorms.

Wrinkles spread along the paper like lightning against a dark sky; Tear-splattered ink bleeds along miniscule fibers, creating a wholly unique pattern.

Cramped letters fill the page, words hugging closely, row after row slanting slightly more.

Like fleeting tornadoes, ideas are marked through by loops of blue or black.

The sender’s intentions are easy to see through the blemishes; The storm of emotions on the inside match the flurry of thoughts scribbled onto the page.

Both letters showcase a different type of beauty.

Calm letters show strength in the ability to control, to care, and to think with reason; Chaotic letters show bravery in the ability to share raw, unadulterated emotions.

The truth lies not in between the lines, but rather in the page as a whole.§

Amadeo Scott, Cyclone

Madison Heiderscheidt, Unsafe

Graphic Design - Vaniel Simmons, Arkansas Travel Poster

Harrison Lennen, Crystal Paper Cutting

Ethan Hemphill, Shape Study Collage on paper

sleep in the heat Harper Haynes

we’re making dinner and the house breathes in orange light from the windows. it’s like this. a deer in the yard and fake blood on tv. it’s like this. i want you to take my hands with your hands and show them how to be good. good like blackberry juice staining the soft part of your mouth. good like knowing where the cups are without having to ask. change the channel back to last year with you and me and our mosquito bite summer, back when i thought love was something to scratch at.

Madison Heiderscheidt, Skeleton

you said, cut your nails short. to stop the itch, i mean. you said, it’s like this. you said, i think i knew you when we were kids, when our teeth were clean and we thought the world was kind. you said, i promised not to forget, and i forgot. you said i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.

Sydney Davidson, Rachel

I CAME,

I SAW,

I LEFT EARLY. Graphic Design - Madelyn Talbert, Booklet

arwin

ystems

The Natural Science Magazine

Sharing the latest innovation and conversation

Graphic Design -Gabriel Watsonl, Corporate Poster

Digital Photogrphy - Madison Esteves, Landscape

Digital Photogrphy - Sarah Semiche, Landscape

Digital Photography - Madison Esteves, Landscape

For the Rain Washes the Pain Away Caiden Vang

Clouded skies gather The sun sinks away to sleep Do not be afraid For the rain washes the pain away

Who cares what they think You’re not insane Take a long drink The pain goes away

Afterwards, comes a better day Just look at the colors up in the sky Down toward a puddle Then take a deep sigh

-But promise me you won’t cry When the rain comes to say goodbye Eventually, the sun must shine Just know that everything will turn out fine

For the next time clouds gather Do not be shy Take off your clothes Dance in the rain

Learn to live in the light The rain has taught you how to fight Today is your day For the rain has washed your pain away

Graphic Design - Vaniel Simmons, Arkansas Travel Poster

Gabriel Watson, Josh

summer didn’t last Marley Vincent

do you remember that time last summer?

I was miserable being away from home and you. you were miserable; your best friend passed away. away from each other, we looked at houses on Zillow.

I wouldn’t live in a house with carpet; you wouldn’t dare decorate with loud colors. you wanted to live in Arizona or Colorado; I wanted to live in Atlanta or DC. (I would’ve conceded — win some, lose some) we were planning a future together. we wanted a future together. do you remember that time?

Digital Photography -Tatiana Camp, Trail

Digital Photography - Vaniel Simmons, Sunset/Sunrise

Perspective Shift Steven Gruver

Isn’t it interesting how perspectives change?

As we become mature We find that wisdom does not come with age, Nor does a settled future.

The past is revered immensely more As is the happiness it brings.

Nostalgia hits harder than years before, Unleashing a frenzy of mixed feelings .

The future loses its desirable qualities And becomes a new source of unwanted stress.

A lack of guidance creates horrific anxieties That harm the slim chances of success.

Therefore, childhood should be cherished Before those innocent outlooks be perished.

Graphic Design - Vaniel Simmons, Portrait

Paper Shark - Madison Mainer, Paper Collage/Sculpture

Sydney Davidson Curtain, Sculpture

Harrison Lehnen Sunset Overdrive Paper cutting

Eilene Pearson Watercolor

2020

Megan Gray

Within a month a virus went from a joke within the halls of my dorm to a reality forcing me to go home. Within a week of the virus traveling the country, my residential high school held me and my schoolmates in assemblies for hours late at night. It was announced there that we would be mandated to travel home a week early for Spring Break. We were to return in two weeks. Not long after that, travel in and out of the United States was all but shut down. On March 19, I received the email saying my high school graduation had been canceled.

A couple of days after this, it was announced that the state of Arkansas would extend the online schooling period until April 18. On March 27, I received the email officially announcing that the remainder of the 2020 spring semester was to be carried out through online instruction. I would not be returning to my home of almost two years to reside in. I would be returning only to move out within a three hour period. Three hours to pack and haul every item in my room from third floor Nichols to the parking lot. No goodbyes. Everyone was to abide by social distancing rules, only two students being allowed to move out on the floor at a time. To say bluntly, the Coronavirus hit this Spring of 2020, my graduating year of

high school.

I am not ignorant. I know that what has been canceled has been for the best; that the only way to stop the movement of people and, therefore, the transmission of the virus was to force it upon society. I am sympathetic to all ages who have contracted the virus. I am aware of the misery that the virus ensues. I have witnessed the shortages caused by panic. I have become painstakingly aware of how wealth and opportunity can affect access to healthcare, even in a time where we require the least of this. Perhaps most of all, I am reminded of the deadliness and danger that the virus poses, a message freely available to anyone that can read a death toll chart.

By depicting how my life has been affected by the Coronavirus, I aim not to downplay the reality. I aim not to place my problems above others.

I aim solely to attempt to depict how the Coronavirus has come to affect my life thus far.ยง

A Day in Fall

Emersyn Rackley

There are trees. Beautiful, tall, shaking trees. And there are birds. I’ve never seen so many birds. I know that they are flying south, though I cannot see the sun.

I watch as one breaks from its formation and joins another. It’s a strange sight, but it makes me smile.

I’m afraid to move, as I might disturb the critters I see running up the side of one of those breathtaking trees. The leaves scattered at my feet crunch as black walnuts fall from the sky.

When I was little, my brother and I used to go over to my grandma’s house and have competitions to see who could throw them the farthest. Eventually, our cousins joined in and it became a whole family event. Those days are long gone now and the only thing I have left of them are my memories.

Forgetting about the natural peace around me, I bend over and pick up one of the hard, green shells that has landed near my feet and toss it up into the air.

It falls away from my reach and scares off a rabbit that had been hiding nearby.

Today had been the first day in years that I had seen my entire family together. We were once close, joined by our grandparents who loved doting on all of us every chance that they could get. But then death, fights, petty grudges, and divorce began to plague us, until the only ones left were my parents (who had managed to stay together through the endeavor), my brother, my grandma, and me.

By blood on my dad’s side, I have seven cousins, two aunts, and an uncle. My mom is an only child and her parents died two years before she married my dad, so the family here is all I have. Before today, I hadn’t seen any of my cousins in over nine years, at an event that took place in this very forest, an event that was almost identical to the one today.

I haven’t cried yet, I remember when my

grandpa died I was a little ten-year-old ball of sobs and tears. My brother, Kade who was only twelve years old at the time, had to carry me back to the car while I cried all over him. I’m pretty sure I ruined his rented suit because I remember watching my mom throw it out later that week. I’ve always felt bad for the way that I treated him that day, he was closer to our grandpa than I was and he had to keep himself composed in order to keep me from crying even more.

I wonder if the same thing will happen before today is over. I was always the closest to my grandma, being the oldest girl and only one of her grandchildren who shared her love of music, but then everyone left, and our bond only grew stronger. I can’t imagine being in this world without her.

I wonder if I’ll last.

It’s only been a couple of minutes since they buried the box. I took off into the trees as soon as the last pile of dirt was thrown in the hole next to my grandpa’s grave. In ten years she had never even considered finding someone new, I hope someone loves me that much one day.

I know I should probably start heading back soon. I lost track of how far I went, but I stopped when I could no longer hear the half-hearted condolences. My grandma was the sweetest woman that has ever walked this earth, I don’t understand why my parents had to invite people that don’t care about her.

Because she isn’t gone. She’s dead, I know that, in my head I know that. But she’s not gone, she’s still here. She’s watching me now, probably worrying that I’m getting too skinny even though I’m already over the suggested weight for my size. She isn’t gone, because I remember her, and love her. Just like she told me after my grandpa died, as long as we rememcontinues on page 36

A Day in Fall contued

ber someone, they aren’t gone, they are always here.

To my left, a small flock of brown thrashers perches to rest in a tree. I hold my breath so that I won’t scare them away, but my efforts are ruined by the crunch of leaves from behind me. Startled, the birds fly up and continue their migration.

“Everyone’s leaving, Mom wanted me to come and get you.” I turn to see Kade standing in the most pathetic position that I’ve ever seen. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders are slumped over like an old man who can barely stand.

Despite his posture, his black suit is crisp and clean and his matching tie is straight and unwrinkled. He sniffs and I can see a tear fall from his cheek into the grass. He drops his head further and let’s his short black hair fall into his face, hiding his swollen eyes and flushed cheeks. “Come on.” He quickly turns and starts to walk back to the cemetery.

He’s trying to be strong for me again, but it’s my turn to protect him.

After breathing in as much of the air as my lungs can hold, I run up next to my brother and grab his arm.

“The food at the wake was pretty weird wasn’t it? I mean, I love Hawanna roll sandwiches, but why would you eat those at a wake?” I tug on his arm as we continue to walk side by side. “Where did Mom find that caterer anyway?”

I hear him chuckle under his breath as he stops to pull me into a hug. “Kareena, we’ll be okay right?” He tightens his arms around me and puts his forehead on my shoulder, which is easy now that my heels make me the same height as him.

“Yes, we’ll be okay.” We may not have a relationship with any of our family, but I have my brother and he has me, so I know that we’ll be okay.§ Digital Photography - Vraj Modi Hot Springs National Park

Brian Ruiz, Humming Bird

Emma Schroder, Prick

dancing Victoria Whisenhunt when the flames of the candle lick the jar, memories of us dance along the walls. arriving promptly (as always) the gentle whispers of your ghost keep me company. sweet scents of innocence -lavenderthree wicks, nothing less. rearranging the past in front of my eyes becoming irresistibly real. as the moon bids farewell the cande gasps for its final breath leaving only me and what could’ve been.

Sydney Davidson, X’d Out

Graphic Design - Isha Patel, Self-portrait

Ish a Tried for Treason

Pate l “It’s not

treason if you

win.”

- Lisa Shearin

3

“All that we see or seem, is but a

dream

within a dream.”

- Edgar Allan Poe

4

“I’m sorry, Earth is

closed today.”

- Tony Stark

1

Graphic Design - Isha Patel, Booklet

6

life’s story by Marley Vincent every event and condition has created a journey to be romanticized and glamorized for consumption. years will become hours, decades condensed to pages. a layered narrative, now reduced and oversimplified. all of the lessons, each failure and accomplishment, cannot fit into such a small frame. will it be beautiful and frilly? or ugly and villainized? “let it be glorious.”

asmsa.org