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The new


Now you can download metro Atlanta’s most comprehensive arts and culture calendar.

Atlanta Skyline Photo: Ryan Nabulsi,





Staff and Contributors


Gone to Game Day

Student Spotlight: Karla Orellana


Obsessively Compulsive and Totally Disordered



Fashion Feature: Obsessions

The Addicted Artist


Letter from the Editor


Operation Once Upon a Time


Infographic: How Obsessed Are You?


I Was a Conspiracy Theorist


Artists' Corner


Infographic: For the Love of Tea



public relations director

copy editor





creative director

art director

CONTRIBUTORS not pictured: Jarrod Fouts, Kelsey Mitchell, John Bird Olivieri, Emme Raus, Ally Schroy, Natasha Standard, Tres Swygert





Student Spotlight Interviewer

“Operation Once Upon A Time” Writer

“Operation Once Upon A Time” Photographer

“Gone to Game Day” Writer

“Obsessions” Production assistant



JAMEL JONES comics editor

JEN SCHWARTZ opinions editor




photo editor

style editor

a&e editor





"Gone to Game Day” Writer

“Obsessions” Hair stylist

“Obsessions” Fashion designer (Menswear and Women’s)

“How Obsessed Are You?” Graphic designer


Letter from

The Editor In our staff photo, you will see what each of our obsessions are. However, one of my biggest obsessions not illustrated is with excellence. Since I was a kid, it was drilled into my head to relentlessly strive for excellence in everything I do. My mom had me write the definition of excellence every day after school, along with other important words she felt would develop my confidence and maturity (such as determination, character and initiative). My grandpa gave me poems like “If ” by Rudyard Kipling and “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley to memorize. You see, I was a shy kid who was bullied for being short, smart and bespectacled. None of you would guess it meeting me now, but that’s because all those things built me up into the person I am today. And it’s now that I attack every task, every passion I have with the desire and belief that I can deliver excellence. It’s a large part of why last quarter my staff and I collectively decided to rebrand The Connector — taking in student critique, we hoped to deliver excellence created by SCAD students to an audience of SCAD students. We believed we had. The response from other students was positive and we were inundated with new contributors excited to be part of The Connector and SCAN. You shared in our obsession to have excellence in student media. But by the time you read this you may have noticed The Connector has changed again. The name has changed to SCAD Connector and the logo along with it. It’s the last day of magazine production that I am writing this, however I’ve known that these changes were coming since October; it’s taken me a while to collect myself. I feel an immense responsibility as a student leader to explain these changes to what I had declared was ours and yours. According to SCAD administrators, we had to redesign the logo; we’re still not sure the exact reasons why. Faculty was brought in to assist in the process and one of our staff members executed it. But we were not consulted as the client during the process. Our critiques and the new direction we aspired to take student media in fell on deaf ears. In fact, we weren’t even properly asked what direction we aimed to take The Connector in. This re-design of the name and logo was pushed through in spite of us and we sincerely wish we all had been included more in the process. It was a lesson for all of us and now calls to my remembrance “If ” by Rudyard Kipling that my grandpa gave me so many years ago. And that’s what I will leave you with now to hopefully prepare you for when you, too, might encounter a situation outside of your control. Make excellence and resiliency part of your list of obsessions.

Arielle Antonio Editor-in-Chief


by Rudyard Kipling (‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies) If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!


howobsessed are you? illustrations & infographic by Cecilia Villegas

Think you’re obsessed?



REALLY?! not at all?

Well, maybe



How often do you TALK about it?

I have my own blog on the subject

3 times a day

once a week


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How much do you KNOW?

I created and/or edited the Wikipedia page

All of it

I read about it sometimes

uc How m






on it?

4-6 hrs a week

nd do you spe

2-4 hrs a day

Of Course


Can you LIVE without it?


No Way!

Not yet



pet after it?

Is it your NICKNAME?

u yo


W ou

ld y o

u name

pets & kids after it?





ef en


about it?




To the death

Big time!


deal breaker?

Not really

9 9

GONE TO GAME DAY A football superfan and the football inept explore Georgia Nation written by Dana Hortman and Glennis Lofland illustration by Jamel Jones


It’s Saturday in Athens! — my first thought as soon as I opened my eyes. I turned over to check the time, light peeking through the blinds. It reads 8:35 a.m. Most wouldn’t consider leaving the comfort of warm cotton sheets on a chilly November morning, but it was a Saturday in the South, which meant one thing: game day. But this chilly Nov. 15, 2014 morning wasn’t just any game day; it was the legendary “Deep South’s Oldest Rivalry,” an annual matchup between the University of Georgia Bulldogs and Auburn University Tigers since 1892. Born and raised in the South, I had been loyal to the University of Alabama, courtesy of my father’s side of the family. While the Crimson Tide blood ran through my veins, I broke convention and decided to attend UGA for college. Tuscaloosa was fun, but Athens had an undeniable charm and small town appeal that I couldn’t resist. I was officially a convert. Since last football season, I’ve anticipated spending Saturday afternoons in sold-out Sanford Stadium with 92,746 of my closest friends. But this particular Saturday in November, I predicted another nail-biting, jaw-dropping matchup between two very talented Southeastern Conference teams. Since the 2013 Hail Mary debacle in Auburn, UGA — proud alumni and die-hard fans included — sought revenge. This year’s rivalry had the word “entertaining” written all over it, and it was about to be my friend Glennis’ first SEC game day experience.

While the Crimson Tide blood ran through my veins, I broke convention and decided to attend UGA for college. The game day routine remained the same as it had since I first began the unbridled tradition in 2007. Two hours of primping perfection, 30 minutes of clothing changes, several store runs for extra food and the infamous battle of finding a parking space closest to the tailgate. As soon as Glennis and I arrived on campus, we were cordially welcomed by waves of red and black, a few hints of orange and blue sprinkled in between. Large collegiate tents hovered over tables of buffalo chicken dip, grilled hamburger patties and the occasional slab of mouthwatering ribs. Young boys and girls dressed in jerseys and cheerleading uniforms running and play-


ing in the grass, some tossing the pigskin back and forth. The occasional ticket scalper perched on a sidewalk, searching for a ticket, but instead must sell a random seat in the 600 level sections for well over face value. The atmosphere on game day blossomed with undeniable Southern hospitality and an understood comradery, even between two different fan bases, who loved their team wholeheartedly. Although I love Atlanta and SCAD, there’s something about Athens and the football culture that feels like home. After tailgating for six or so hours, game time had finally arrived. Disappointed, I hated not being inside Sanford Stadium for the game. Spending the last seven years watching your team play from the front row of the end zone, it’s not easy watching them from a TV screen. But I refused to pay the starting price of $300 for a ticket in the nosebleed section. And I knew whether Glennis and I were in the stands or watching the game from a bar flat screen, it would be enjoyable. A few weeks before, I had warned Glennis about my less than lady-like mannerisms that would appear as soon as the football left the tee. The strong passion I have for my team was obvious as soon as Auburn inched closer to their appointed end zone. “Get him down, dammit! Why the hell aren’t you tackling?!” With a lack of defense, Auburn scored first; it would be their only touchdown and field goal all game. UGA quickly responded with their first possession of the ball — a 105-yard kickoff return touchdown by Todd Gurley. I jumped up and down,


But what to wear doesn’t just stop at getting the right color. This is the South, where football attire is strictly girls in pearls and guys in ties. I hounded Dana with my not-so-subtle attempts at finding out what everyone else in our party would be wearing. The Georgia Nation promo videos she sent to get me pumped had a very clear message: this is Georgia football, y’all. It’s about fitting into the “Georgia Nation,” which according to the videos is a sea of red and black and guys in polos and chinos and girls in big hats and red lipstick. I had yet to meet all of Dana’s college friends, and the last thing I wanted was to make some kind of football fashion faux-pas. (Side note: these videos are actually a thing. They are so inclusive and heart-warming that they made me cry, and I didn’t even go to the University of Georgia.) My anxiety was for nothing. As we all got ready together, my outfit was the right kind of cute-casual and my red sweater the proper shade. It was like getting ready for a high school dance;

The Georgia Nation promo videos she sent to get me pumped had a very clear message: this is Georgia football, y'all.

loudly screaming “Come on Gurley! Go! Go! Go! Run Gurley run Oh my God! Touchdown!” I thought I was going to pee my pants. Although that particular play was ruled a penalty, UGA went on to beat Auburn between the hedges 34 to 7. As soon as the play clock hit zero, I thought about part of the pre-game speech given by famous college football announcer and late voice of the Georgia Bulldogs Larry Munson: “Let all the Bulldog faithful rally behind the men who now wear the red and black with two words. Two simple words that express the sentiments of the entire Bulldog Nation … GO DAWGS!” Dressed head to toe in my two favorite colors, I will forever be a Georgia fan.


Oh my God, what am I going to wear? The thought haunted me for weeks. I had no red in my closet and that was a problem. On November 15, I needed to wear red to blend in. And not just any red. Dana had warned me about inappropriate shades of red as we perused Old Navy back in September — “that’s too orange” or “that’s too pink” or “that’s too close to Alabama.” (They don’t call them the Crimson Tide for nothing.) But on that November day, I was to be a Georgia fan, and they wear a particular shade of red. On Tuesday before the big weekend, I had zero red in my closet save for a pair of Christmas socks from my grandmother. I needed to find red pronto. I ran to H&M and lo and behold, they were decked out for Christmas, and Christmas red happens to be just the right shade.

with music blaring, we all did our hair, borrowed things from each other and helped with makeup. It was 1 p.m. when we finally made our way to tailgate on UGA’s campus, which had become a sea of people and both red Georgia tents and orange Auburn tents, red and orange fans intermingling along the beautiful brick sidewalks and tree-lined streets of the University of Georgia’s campus. Every patch of grass was claimed by a tent, and every tent, it seemed, had at least four things: a buffet table full of snacks, coolers full of beer, a grill and a cornhole set. Those who set up the tents had been there since 6 a.m. to claim their spot, even though the game didn’t start until 7 p.m. We wouldn’t even be going into the stadium. In October, tickets for this game had skyrocketed to over $300 — for the nosebleed seats. Our plan was to tailgate and then find a TV. I’ll cut to the chase: Georgia won. But to me, this was not just about football (if you are, like me, a mere social footballer — strictly speaking). This was a holiday. As we walked to other tailgates, the entire campus felt like a celebration. Our own tailgate had both Georgia and Auburn fans, eating together, laughing together. For Georgia fans, this was a hometown reunion, which was clear when all of a sudden I found myself being herded toward the sidewalk. Every home game in Athens begins with the “Dawg Walk,” when the UGA players walk out into the stadium. But the walk begins well before the stadium, when the players are bused through the streets of Athens and pass the tailgates and cheering fans. Standing there in my red sweater, cheering alongside everyone else, I felt like a Georgia fan.


Karla Orellana MFA INTERIOR DESIGN interview by Patrick Guilford photo by LuAnne DeMeo


The rest of the time I have left is dedicated to homework. It usually keeps me busy.

WHAT INSPIRES YOUR WORK? I settle my mind to help people. Every time I do a project I always think on how it could improve someone’s life and somehow giving back inspires me.

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOUR DESIGN AESTHETIC? I would say that my work would be a mash-up of the industrial style with luxurious objects. An example of mine would be the chain chandelier: baroque but also industrial. I also have a Bachelor’s Degree in architecture so I like to improve the space, as well as combining Interior Design and Architecture. WHAT IS YOUR DREAM GIG AND WHY? When I applied here at SCAD, my goal was to make a better living space for people of lower class and create a better quality of life without spending so much money. This applies to anyone in the world because everyone wants a better life without spending too much money. I do this because I would like to give back with what I know.

WHAT IS YOUR WORK PATTERN? I’m doing an internship for 12-15 hours; Mondays from 8 a.m. - 12 p.m. and Fridays from 8 a.m. - 5 p.m. I also have two classes on Monday and Wednesday from 2-4:30 p.m.and Tuesdays and Thursdays from 6-8:30 p.m. 13

This is the

Artists' Corner WINTER 2015

Obsession of Self by Kelsey Mitchell


Obsessions by Ally Schroy

Bears by Tres Swygert



Bibliophile by Jamel Jones


OBSESSIVELY COMPULSIVE & TOTALLY DISORDERED written by Jarrod Fouts photo by LuAnne DeMeo

FEATURE It made me think I was some kind of crazy person like a budding psychopath, or just some very sick creature up until about two years ago. That’s when it was most intense, that’s when I knew something was up but couldn’t tell you what. I would get up every morning around 6 a.m. to assure that I could make it to my 8 a.m. class on time. The first thing that would happen when I opened my eyes felt like an old car being cranked up. Spit-sputtering to life, the engine of my mind fired out a thought like a plume of putrid black smoke. “F--k God.” It said. I would shake my head back and forth and try not to blame myself. Though I would. It would say it a few more times as I went about my morning routine. The drive to school was an hour of oddities, that same curse against God repeating itself over and over intermixed with thoughts of getting phone calls about family members dying. The rest of the day wasn’t much better. Trying to cut out foam core with an X-Acto knife is rather difficult when the mind is showing little movies of it slipping and stabbing. Blood going everywhere. Classmates screaming. Talking to friends for support isn’t much of a relief because the brain seems to think it would be a great idea to just have you spit in their face and walk away. I felt awful. I didn’t want any of this.

I felt awful. I didn’t want any of this. I thought maybe I was loony or possessed. Who else would have constantly refreshing images of themselves careening into the guardrail on their drive home or torching the church they went to or doing things to themselves and others they can’t even repeat? It wasn’t until later that I made the move to get this examined that I discovered the truth, and as relieving as it was, it was still almost unbelievable. I didn’t think I had OCD, but I do and as it turns out, I had no idea what it really was. I’m pretty sure that most people don’t. The very mention of the word “OCD” seems to elicit a very similar image or scene in most people’s heads. The image will most likely manifest as a character of sorts, perhaps like the one from that TV show “Monk,” about a brilliant detective with OCD or some assemblage of more or less familiar faces pasted onto a head onto a body that’s always got a spray bottle of extra strength, kills 99.9 percent of germs, y’all, Lysol on hand. The scene being a perfectly clean house with things arranged so neatly that the crew from TLC’s “Clean Sweep” cry in

shame at the very thought of this person’s organizational prowess, this person who cleans everything meticulously, counts things repeatedly and breaks out a bright yellow hazmat suit/oxygen tank combo whenever someone that lives with them or sees them at all does so much as cough. There is nothing wrong with them having this image. However, the reality of OCD is much more bothersome than having to have a spotless kitchen.

However, the reality of OCD is much more bothersome than having to have a spotless kitchen. OCD stands for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Essentially this means that the patient is obsessive. About anything really. Germs, numbers, their friends and family, God, etc. It also means that they have compulsions to do things and perform ritualistic behaviors to deal with the obsessions. To put it simply, that person who’s always washing their hands 10 times in a row is doing so because if they don’t, this evil little voice inside their head would have them believe that the germs on them will form colonies and become resistant to cleaning and crawl into the pores in their skin and make them sick. That person who locks the door 18 times is led to believe, by that voice, that if they don’t a robber will break in and steal everything they have. These people, including myself, are always obsessing and following it up with something in a hackneyed attempt at satisfying the obsession (which only exacerbates the problem, as does trying to think about anything else). The reality is that this is not only a disorder characterized by a cacophony of screaming thoughts and do-or-die compulsions, but like any mental disorder, it comes with its share of depression, anxiety and self-loathing (to name a few). So, that person always cleaning knows how stupid it is to believe that simple-celled organisms, the likes of which are on their already spotless floors, could ever become super resistant, mutate and infect them. They know how absurd the thought is, but they can’t stop it. They can’t switch off the thoughts, and the smell of cleaning solution is starting to get to them. But they just can’t stop. That person who locks the door 18 times, even when friends and family are present, knows it’s not necessary. And they kind of hate themselves because they assume they look like a fool

and everyone’s laughing at them, including that voice. These people are disgusted with themselves. They beat themselves up on a daily basis and feed that voice, bow to those compulsions everyday. The only way to handle it is with medicine and raging. No, not raging like partying or angrily screaming at someone who “has a space big enough you could put the moon lander in it, but still won’t merge” raging. But a type of poetic raging. Besides looking into medicinal treatment, OCD sufferers are urged to not listen and not to obey. Don’t clean the floors. Sit on them and touch them with your hand for 30 seconds and do not wash that hand. Lock your door once and leave it. Increase the anxiety until it just has to quit. It helps me to envision my various compulsions and thoughts as the “good night” referred to in Dylan Thomas’s “Do not go gentle into that good night.” Poetic raging. The good night here is death, as is hinted at in the other stanzas of the poem. He is telling his father to hold onto life. To fight his approaching death. My “good night” is a type of death I guess you could say. It is willful acceptance. To accept those nasty hateful inner voices as truth. When they tell me those who say they love me are lying, my dreams are not worth dreaming and that my pathetic life is not worth living, accepting that is my good night. To let my obsessions take control, to listen to them and perform the rituals as they instruct while they laugh like some drunken Roman emperor at a gladiator match, laughing as people are torn apart for his enjoyment. To let the OCD win without a valiant battle. That is my “good night.” Throwing up a white flag of surrender is worse than death to me.

“Do not go gentle into that good night.” From the time I was diagnosed until the writing of this piece, it’s been a somewhat easier battle. I take medications that don’t make the symptoms go away, but rather make them quieter. They started at the forefront of everything and now they sound like someone standing far off yelling. Just loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to have a real effect. Some days are worse than others, but it’s been a lot better. I have a little more control and can almost sort the thoughts into mind file folders as junk. It’s a never-ending battle, but thanks to an actual understanding of what it is, I have the proper weapons and ammunition for those daily firefights.



ONCE UPON A T ME a binge-watcher’s documented experience written by Kate Betts photography by Nancy Juarez



Hmm. This show’s supposed to be really good, but I dunno. Fairy tales? Might be kinda weird … Oh, look, it’s Snow White! I love Snow White. That was one of my favorite Disney movies! Okay, I’m in. Cat, quit stepping on my keyboard, I’m trying to watch! Okay, there we go. Mmm, this apple juice is really — oh, my God, the prince is so hot! Snow, you are one lucky princess. They’re so adorable. I’m hopeless, aren’t I? Hang on a second, I feel like there’s something I was supposed to do … make food? Laundry? Oh, wait, I remember: pick up little brother from soccer! I’m okay, though, that’s not till — crap! *dives off bed, frantically searches for car keys*

Look, it’s Red Riding Hood! Oh, her dress is so pretty! I love her eyes. I wish I had blue eyes. Okay, okay, cat, I’ll refill your water dish! There! Okay, back to watching. I should really be doing my laundry right — cat! What do you want now? Okay, fine, sit on my head, see if I care. Okay. Unpause. What time is it? Eh, it’s not really that important. It’s a lot of effort to sit up and look at the clock. Hang on, was that research paper due this Monday or next Monday? I’d better check on that … I really hope it’s next Monday ...



ELAPSED TIME: 3 HOURS, 7 MINUTES My eyes are itchy. Why are my eyes itchy? Oh. Maybe I should take my contacts out and switch to glasses. Yeah! *one pair of glasses later* Much better! Oooh, I should make some popcorn. That would be awesome! And maybe some tea. Even better! And you know what? I can even put on pajamas. Who cares that it’s the middle of the afternoon? Does it really matter? It’s not like I’m going anywhere. I’m going to stay right here and keep watching. I’m not addicted, though. Really, I’m not. I can stop anytime, I promise. There is absolutely no reason that I couldn’t just — OH MY GOSH, DRAGON!

ELAPSED TIME: 10 HOURS, 45 MINUTES I think it’s time for another mug of tea. Earl Grey? Chai? Chamomile? Nah, Earl Grey. I’m hungry again. Maybe I should make a sandwich. Hmm, that would be really yummy. I just have to wait for a good — Regina and Robin are soooooo cute! Look at them!

ELAPSED TIME: 12 HOURS, 28 MINUTES ELAPSED TIME: 5 HOURS, 48 MINUTES Is someone calling my name? I feel like someone’s calling my — what? Dinner? Crap, I am pretty hungry … okay, pause, pause, darn it! Yum, is that tacos? *two tacos later* Okay. Dinner taken care of. Unpause! Hmm, if I could be any character who would I be? You know, being a princess would be pretty cool. I love the pretty dresses and tiaras! Does being a princess mean that I get a cute prince? I hope so. Where do I sign up? But man, I wish I had magical powers! That would be so — NOOOOO, SHE DOESN’T REMEMBER RUMPLE!

When did it get so dark outside? Is it like the middle of the night or something? Oh. Why, yes, it is. Oh, well, I can’t stop now! I mean, I totally could, if I wanted to. It’s just that I don’t want to. Hmmph. Don’t look at me like that, cat! I know what you’re thinking! Don’t judge me! Oh wait, you’re just hungry. Okay, have some treats. Now let’s watch more! We’re almost done! Wait, we’re almost done! Noooo, I don’t want it to end! There’s gotta be more, right? Right? Please say right! Crap! When does the next season air? I need to write this down! To Google!

ELAPSED TIME: 13 HOURS, 12 MINUTE ELAPSED TIME: 8 HOURS, 33 MINUTES No. No, no, no, no, no! RUMPLE’S A PRISONER OF THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST? No! This can’t be happening. Crap, I totally forgot to put in my laundry. Okay, I’d better go put in a load. I need a cookie anyways. Flying monkeys? Seriously, she has flying monkeys? Ugh, creepy! CAT, DON’T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT, I THOUGHT YOU WERE A FLYING MONKEY! All right, all right, settle down then! Wait, you’re not a flying monkey, right? *poke poke* Okay, you’re good! Aww, look, Neal and Hook are fighting over Emma, that’s adorable! Isn’t that adorable? That’s adorable. I am such a hopeless romantic. Besides, we all know she’s going to end up with Hook.

I can’t believe I have to wait a whole month until the next season starts! What am I going to do? Why can’t it start right now? I wanna keep watching! I know — I’m gonna get some chocolate. That’ll help. Yum. A glass of milk and I’m all set. I can’t believe it, I’m getting close to the end! Wait — did I just watch that entire series? What time is — oh. Well, that’s awkward. Oh, Belle and Rumple’s wedding! They’re sooooo adorable! I love weddings. Weddings are awesome. They’re so cute, and she’s so beautiful! I want her hat. Oh, my gosh! Hook and Emma’s first kiss!!!!! Eeeeeee!!!! They can’t end it like that! No! It can’t be over! It can’t be! Where’s the “Next Episode” button? There’s. No. Next. Episode. Button. Noooooooo!!!!!!


y L P O written by Manseen Logan

I have a confession. In 2009, I got swept up in the Illuminati craze and spent countless weeks scouring the Internet for symbols and secrets. WINTER 2015




n the Michael Jackson wrongful death case against concert promotion company AEG LIVE, Prince Jackson testified that his father would always say, “They are trying to kill me.” Don’t judge me. It was pointless, but it was not a complete waste of time. The Internet claimed that some of the most influential public figures were a part of a secret society vying for world domination. The most popular icons were on this ultra “in” list: Jay Z and Beyonce, Lady Gaga, Madonna and others. But these big names were just small distractions in the alleged fight for a new world order. Global leaders, business tycoons and affluent families headlined the not-so-secret group, and coded emblems connected all of the suspects together. I followed the trail into a world that I never knew existed. What started out as a slight fascination grew into a full-on obsession.



.S. soldiers fighting in the War of 1812 called U.S. barrels of beef Uncle Sam (after the meat packer Sam Wilson). By 1813, the trend caught on and Uncle Sam became the United States’ nickname. Let’s start with the All-Seeing Eye or Eye of Providence (they’re both the same thing). This eye, centered in a gleaming triangle, has a history that dates back to ancient Egypt. I never noticed the figure until the rapper Jay-Z started throwing his hands up in a triangular shape and holding it in front of his lefteye. Somehow, its position on the back of the dollar bill escaped my attention. However, once I became a symbolist, I could recognize the figure in any lineup and it was all over the place. The All-Seeing Eye could be viewed as the discernment of God, the wisdom of the Illuminated or the plucked out eye of Horus. Each viewpoint was filled with different connotations that ranged from guidance and wisdom to health and protection. However, the Illuminati seemed to overshadow all other meanings and the Eye of Providence became its unofficial logo. Once I learned the meanings of this symbol, I became intrigued with what other images meant. It was my “gateway” symbol.

Most people hear the word Illuminati and immediately roll their eyes. After all, there are only two groups of people who believe in this type of thing, the paranoid fanatic and the publicity-seeking entertainer. I didn’t fit into the entertainer category and I wasn’t willing to wear the fanatic label, so I had to create my own group — the symbolists. “Symbolist” has a sophisticated ring to it and it defined my infatuation with the craze. The accused Illuminists somehow found ways to blur odd symbols into the background of their photos, films, songs and wardrobes. Identifying and deciphering these images was an alluring task.




ightning strikes the Empire State Building about 25 times a year.



K-ULTRA was the code name for the CIA’s secret mind control experiment, during the ‘50s and ‘60s. CIA director Richard Helms ordered that all MK-ULTRA files be destroyed, in 1973.

From the All-Seeing Eye, I made the leap to skulls and bones. Of course, this image appeared in my “Illuminati” Google search. The real-life Yale University student group, Skulls and Bones, are rumored affiliates of the secret society. For me, skulls and bones have always represented death. It’s the warning on a poisonous bottle or the carving on a dilapidated tombstone. My research revealed that it also represents the other side of death — immortality. Since satanic emblems are associated with the Illuminati, I had enough images to keep me busy. What I considered a sim-




mmortal Jellyfish return to a polyp state after reproducing and start the development process all over again. They continue this cycle until they are eaten, killed by disease or destroyed in an unnatural manner. Essentially, they could live forever.

ple five-point-star became a pentagram. Like the other symbols, the pentagram has infinite meanings. Right-side up it represents many religions, but when it’s flipped upside down it becomes a symbol of evil. The Church of Satan incorporated the inverted pentagram into their official logo in the late 1960s. So, the tipped-over stars I doodled in school notebooks were apparently satanic trademarks. Great. The deeper I dug, the more I discovered. The truth is, I would be lying, if I said that I wasn’t a little persuaded (yes, I managed to dip into the crazy conspiracy theorist pool). Either there were extreme coincidences or the most successful designers and entertainers were endorsing something beyond my knowledge — something malign. Artists like Lady Gaga, who incorporate baphomets, pentagrams, All-Seeing-Eyes and other occult symbols into their brand, leave some spectators wondering “is it more than just art.” Besides, what better way to perform a mass ritual than on a stage in front of thousands of people?



here are more than 150 species of owls.

overboard. They were digital witch-hunters and their accusations were more ridiculous than the Salem Witch Trials. Every celebrity death became a “blood sacrifice” performed by the Illuminati. It was a bit much. This group ignored the many meanings behind a single image and labeled any strange emblem Illuminati. I already had problems fully believing that the eighteenth-century secret order had resurrected. Now, any small acceptance that I had was erased. By the third week of my code-binge, I completely lost interest. A week after that, I forgot most of what I had learned. Still, I struggled with whether or not the promotion of these satanic images were coincidences or conspiracies. Even today, conspiracies swirl around the most popular artists and designs. In fact, the branding and packaging company McLean Design is under question for the the neon green “M” that is featured on the Monster energy drink. Is the image actually the letter “M” clawed onto the can or is it the number 666 written in Hebrew? Why is a cross designed into the “O” of Monster? Is it a conspiracy or a coincidence?



n Disney’s “The Little Mermaid,” Mickey Mouse, Goofy and Donald Duck are a part of King Triton’s opening audience.



ustria is the only country in the European Union that isn’t a part of NATO (the North Atlantic Treaty Organization).

In order to care about the idea of a modern-day Illuminati, someone would have to believe in good and evil, prayer and magic and the power of influence. My concern was rooted in the idea of being an unknowing participant of some sacrilegious ceremony. And so I paid closer attention to the messages behind the artist and the graphics within the designs. If I couldn’t understand or find a meaningful interpretation, I didn’t support it. But then I discovered a group on the Internet taking the trend


Regardless of what people believe, one thing is certain, our society places value on depth and meaning. Some of the most talked about art pieces are the ones that hold a bit of mystery — the Sistine Chapel, Picassos and Pollacks. They are the ones that allow us to discuss a deeper level of interpretation. And if we are honest with ourselves, we can admit that we each have a slight addiction to unmasking symbols. Or am I the only crazy one?

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For the LOVE of Tea photos & facts by

Jo Arellanes


Country of Origin: China / India / Sri Lanka Brew Temperature: 195ºF - 200ºF Brew Time: 3:00 - 3:30 min Brew Amount: 1 tbsp / 8 fl. oz. Caffeine Content: 60‑90 milligrams per 8 oz.

Black tea is oxidized the longest and contains reducing antioxidant properties, but raises caffeine levels.


Country of Origin: China Brew Temperature: 195ºF - 200ºF Brew Time: 3:00 min Brew Amount: 1 tbsp / 8 fl. oz. Caffeine Content: 60‑70 milligrams per 8 oz.

Pu-erh is an aged / fermented tea that was traditionally packed as bricks and used as currency along trade routes.


Country of Origin: China / Taiwan Brew Temperature: 185ºF - 195ºF Brew Time: 3:00 min Brew Amount: 1 tbsp / 8 fl. oz. Caffeine Content: 30‑70 milligrams per 8 oz.

Oolong is a tea that is the midway point between black and green. Its balanced oxidation provides both antioxidants and caffeine.


Chai tea is black tea blended with cardamom, ginger, cloves and cinnamon. Traditionally, it is simmered in milk and sugar.


Country of Origin: China / Japan Brew Temperature: 175ºF Brew Time: 2:00 min Brew Amount: 1 tbsp / 8 fl. oz. Caffeine Content: 25‑35 milligrams per 8 oz.

Green tea is most delicate when brewing, and will become bitter very easily if the water is too hot or if the leaves are steeped for too long.

“ Drink your WHITE

Country of Origin: China Brew Temperature: 175ºF Brew Time: 3:00 min Brew Amount: 1 tbsp / 8 fl. oz. Caffeine Content: 10‑15 milligrams per 8 oz.

White tea is made from newly-sprouted tips and leaves.

tea slowly and reverently, as if it the axis on which the whole Earth revolves. Slowly, evenly without rushing toward the future. Live the actual moment. Only this moment is life. ”

­— Thich Nhat Hanh (Thay)


Country of Origin: South Africa Brew Temperature: 200ºF - 212ºF Brew Time: 4:00 - 5:00 min Brew Amount: 1 tsp / 8 fl. oz. Caffeine Content: None

Rooibos is an herbal tea not from the Camellia sinensis tree, but from a South African needley bush. It cannot be oversteeped because it doesn't contain tannins that cause bitterness in other teas.


Brew Amount: 1 tsp of powder / 8 fl. oz.

Fresh, high-quality tea leaves picked from mature Camellia sinensis trees are stone ground into a fine powder to make matcha. It is the most caffeinated tea beverage that can be consumed. Traditionally, it is prepped in a handmade ceramic bowl or cup with 170ºF water and a bamboo whisk.




photography by LuAnne DeMeo fashion design by Quentin Perry




written by Emme Raus image by Jo Arellanes and Arielle Antonio




s art school students, most of us are familiar with the notion that drugs and alcohol stimulate the creative process. And sure, when we look at some of our heroes, Jackson Pollock, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Francis Bacon and Charles Dickens to name a few, the argument appears to have some weight. However, it’s important to take this belief with a grain of salt and raise a few questions. Why is it a common belief that artists are more likely to become addicted to drugs and alcohol than other professions? Furthermore, why do they feel compelled to work while drinking or on drugs in the first place?

But does this extreme way of living provide reason enough that creative career holders are more susceptible to drug and alcohol addiction? Well, to get the depressing truth out of the way, it’s no secret that the life of an artist is demanding and out of sync compared to the average office job. An unpredictable lifestyle consisting of periods of boredom alternating with intense workloads sadly comes with the territory. In addition, the artist’s habit of retreating away from social interaction in order to delve deeper into our artwork is known to cause strain on relationships with partners, family and friends.

But does this extreme way of living provide reason enough that creative career holders are more susceptible to drug and alcohol addiction? Hardly. Although some artists and writers are historically known to be thrill-seekers who pursued chemical highs and lows, the main factors for addiction — genetics, environmental aspects and early age influences — do not imply that people with creative careers succumb to addiction more easily than other professions. In fact, a study in 2007 by the SAMSHA (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Association) reveals that artists, designers, entertainers and people in media only rank third in the Top Ten Most Addictive-Prone Careers, following construction in second place and food preparation and service as number one. Then why do artists and writers feel compelled to abuse alcohol and drugs while practicing their craft? Unfortunately, some working for their BFAs buy into the misconception that in order to harness creativity they must be self-destructive and express their own personal tragedies in their artwork in order to be successful. Another crumbling theory is that artists and writers are often overcome with the need to bury something, such as a traumatic incident or guilt over a decision, and do this through the overconsumption of alcohol and drugs. And let’s not forget the classic excuse: “It’s the only way I can find my muse.” Personally, I’ve found that the best way to seek inspiration for creative endeavors is to just go out and try new things. Go to that art festival in Piedmont

Because contrary to popular belief, we are in fact fully capable of creating wonderful, timeless pieces of art sober and to think otherwise is a lie. Park or that downtown music block party or wherever, surround yourself with interesting people and have engaging conversations. Also, spending some time with your own influences often leads to great insight as well; so read a book or visit an art gallery and bring a friend. Because contrary to popular belief, we are in fact fully capable of creating wonderful, timeless pieces of art sober and to think otherwise is a lie. Remember, you don’t need to OD early to impact the world through your creative aspirations. It turns out you can earn your chops as a writer or an artist simply by being yourself and continuing to do what art students do: create!


This is the

Colophon Additional credits: Cover: Jo Arellanes Art direction and layout design: Arielle Antonio, Vania Ho Contributing designers: Cecillia Villegas, Matthew Cornwall, Marci Williams "I Was a Conspiracy Theorist" NATO and owl llustrations: Jo Arellanes Uncle Sam and Mona Lisa: Public domain images "Obsessions" - Fashion feature Styling: John Bird Olivieri Creative direction and set styling: Jo Arellanes Models: Chelsea Steverson and Lamarr Moore Cat models: Bandit, Oliver and Diego Hair: Artesia Rose Makeup: Kianna McCalla Production assistants: Nancy Juarez, Patrick Guilford, Arielle Antonio, Natasha Standard

No cats, My Little Ponies or tea leaves were harmed during the production of this magazine. SCAN is the quarterly student magazine of the Savannah College of Art and Design in Atlanta. All editorial content is determined by student editors. Opinions expressed in SCAN are not necessarily those of the college. Š2015 SCAN Magazine. All rights reserved. No parts of this magazine may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.

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