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Arts and Literature ,

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2018 | VOL. 60 IS. 15 | FREE

Once I dreamt...


2 NOVEMBER 19, 2018

THE SUNDIAL • ARTS & LITERATURE

True Magic Ariella Kaniel Senior

My concept is a true inspiration to the magic that manifests in the darkest hour. It lights up the sleeping subconscious. To illustrate this, I painted an underwater scene as an allegory for the mental struggle. The figure summoning the school of fish from the glowing orb of light is meant for the viewer to identify with the feeling of being inspired; the necklace is a representation of imagination which aides us in dreaming limitless possibilities.

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Editor’s Note This was my first year as an editor for The Sundial, meaning this was my first Arts and Literature issue and I could not be happier with the outcome. First and foremost, I want to thank everyone who submitted their work. I was stunned by the things you all shared. Every day I was inspired by the things I saw and the words I read. “Once I Dreamt..” was a fitting theme for this year’s issue. It seems now more than ever my dreams are always telling me something my reality can’t. My subconscious reminds me that I am observant of the world I live in. It keeps my curiosities high even when I lay to rest at night. This issue gave us a chance to explore the inner workings of our brains. We were able to decode and evaluate what usually is hidden. In turn, this gave us a better understanding of our existence from an unearthly point of view. On that note, I hope you are as proud of your work and your contributions as I am. I thank you again for allowing The Sundial to share your stories. Sweet dreams, Thania Garcia Sundial Culture Editor

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NOVEMBER 19, 2018

THE SUNDIAL • ARTS & LITERATURE

3

La Llorona

Fernando Antonio Martinez Grad student

I Once I dreamt I was nine years old, stuffed in an eight-seat Chevy Astro with nine other people Cruising down the empty streets of Guanajuato in the dead of night A moment of relaxation we so desperately needed See, we just spent the last 10 hours exploring the two most famous pyramids in this desert state where people were honored to have been sacrificed But sacrifices weren’t enough so we took a stroll through El Museo de las Momias An underground freezer that holds the mummified bodies of the Guanajuatenses who perished during a cholera outbreak 189 years ago

The Adventurous World Minley Moradian

Graphic Design, Sophmore When I am asleep I visualize myself being a professional artist and working with different companies by doing what I love. Some interests that I have are flowing in my hair, such as a weight for working out and books. One of my goals and dreams is to have a healthy life by working out, creating a happy and active life for myself and also to graduate and pursue a career that I’ve always wanted to get into.

I cannot begin to describe how ominous this day has been II I am nine years old, stuffed in an eight-seat Chevy Astro with nine other people Cruising down the empty streets of Guanajuato because we did not expect to stay out here this long and home is three hours away in a different state We’d rather find shelter in a semi-decent hotel that won’t upcharge because we’re from Michoacan and not Guanajuato But see, shelter is 20 kilometers from the city, across El Puente de Santa Ana A bridge that the locals have told us is guarded by a short pale-skinned woman en un camison blanco

Wild Flower (Born To Be Wild) Iris Peretz Art, Senior

This sculptural piece named “Wild Flower (Born To Be Wild)” actually came to me in a dream. I was in bed with my husband and had a dream about a flowing artwork made from used helmet visors that had been in a crash. My husband and I were in a crash on PCH a few months back and the crash weighed heavily on my mind. I subconsciously wanted to celebrate survival and move past the point of impact that I kept seeing over and over in my mind. The dream theme means a lot to me as I believe that we can realize dreams and this is one small example of it. This piece is currently on exhibit at Hope Gallery in Los Angeles.

A woman whose only words are “O hijos míos, a dónde los llevaré? // My children, where will I take you?” You cannot see her face but still ... you can tell that past her long, dirty, disheveled hair ... this woman is in pain Crossing that bridge means that your empathy will heighten See you’re afraid of this woman but you do not want to leave her on the bridge alone Crossing that bridge means she steps into the eight-seat Chevy Astro stuffed with 10 people to make sure she gets home safe Crossing that bridge means that when you finally cross over the bridge, she is no longer in the car with you You do not know where she is III I am nine years old, having found my way back to Los Angeles I am walking with confidence to the front of the room of my fourth-grade class because I have the story of a lifetime It feels as if I came back to the first day of school for this moment and this moment only I know it is not a competition but for the first time I will have the best thing to show Except I don’t See, that woman en El Puente de Santa Ana ... well she has a lot of names La Llorona, La Malinche, La Siguanaba, or the Weeping Woman I guess we all have the same stories


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THE SUNDIAL • ARTS & LITERATURE

THE SUNDIAL • ARTS & LITERATURE

NOVEMBER 19, 2018

Floating Island Betsie Garcia

Ferris Wheel Betsie Garcia

I watched a Ferris wheel spin at night Watched as the lights flickered and danced As people kissed at the tallest height I watched carnival bubbles float in a hypnotic trance I watched as the seashore came crashing in slowly And watched as a man jumped off the Ferris wheel boldly Smashing his head against the pavement That’s when I woke up and screamed.

What this piece represents is a loss of ambition. One of the biggest inspirations for this piece was the Windmill Island from Gorillaz and like the Windmill Island, it is being steered away and is decaying away slowly.

Liberty Holly Stuczynski Fine arts, Senior

Ego

Holly Stuczynski Fine arts, Senior

The Nightmare Brenda Munguia Painting, Senior

My painting connects to the “I once dreamt” theme because I’ve had many dreams about the ocean. I am a Mexican-American and we believe that dreaming the sea symbolizes sadness and death. Others think it symbolizes being in deep water and being in the high water. But I have learned that dreaming of a body of water represents the unconscious itself. I painted a dream where I was feeling fear and horror. In this dream, I felt myself screaming. Then I found myself floating in a stormy sky. A plane then passed by. The day before I had watched a horror movie.

The Omen

What Could Have Been Maricruz Ramirez Sociology, Senior

In a dream I had last night, I found myself walking down a hallway with numerous doors — reminiscent of the scene in “Beetlejuice” when the main characters search for their afterlife case worker. As I walked down the hallway in my dream and went door by door, I realized that each room led to an alternate dimension revolving around pivotal moments of my life. Once I awoke from this fantasy, the images remained vivid in my mind and I found myself without qualms about why I dreamt this sequence in the first place. It was no mystery because lately, I had been falling asleep to scenarios and imaginings revolving around what I consider to be a truly tragic sentence: what could have been.

Bailey Turner Dreams seem to be an extension of my daily process, worries and tasks. I dream of being able to have the power over the endless chores, taking control of the tools that encapsulate my time. Eugene Delacroix’s painting "Liberty Leading the People" has always been a strong image, and as a full-time student, a mother of six and a wife, I see that I need to have strength and courage to accomplish my life goals. While I may not think that I have an excessive worry with regards to time management, obviously my dreams speak to my stress and desire to conquer.

When I dream the thoughts that are underlying can trickle out. With the political climate being as such, I am so fearful that the current president will destroy our planet and take away women’s rights as he reigns as his own appointed dictator, spewing forth ugly prejudiced rhetoric towards immigrants, especially those from Mexico and hatred towards anything that is California. I painted this recognizing Salvador Dali’s "Persistence of Memory," who painted dreams and dream-like states, referencing my dream, my fears and Trump’s persistence of ego.

Art, Freshman

"The Omen" is a piece that represents what I gain from my dreams, fragments. Hence the use of crosshatching, a type of method I have been learning in my observational class. Out of the objects we were given I chose to draw a raven figurine, as in classical literature ravens were used as symbols and omens, for insight and prophecy. I believe that dreams give us insight into our most profound anxieties by putting together pieces of memories. Conjuring a fragmented and scattered landscape that leaves us wanting to know more, once we are awakened by the next day.

For the past decade, I have found myself falling into patterns of self-destruction regarding my “love life” because of the one who got away. There was never a true conclusion for us and definitely no sense of closure or acknowledgment of the feelings we had once shared. Whenever the opportunity to fall for a new person came up, my heart found itself crawling back into the question of “what could have been.” Every time a new man walked into my life, I destroyed the potential for a true relationship by envisioning the “what could

have been” scenarios and dream sequences revolving around the boy who was never truly mine. Because of this, nobody could compare. Nobody was ever going to be good enough. Nobody could be him. It took a decade for confirmation that I had not been romanticizing things in my head and that the boy who was never mine perceived me as his own girl who got away. It took a decade, but in a note, he included these haunting words: “Our lives have gone very different paths but we can always share thoughts of our teenage years and what could have been.” And there it was: what could have been. In an unnecessary form of self-torture, I have found myself falling asleep to what I envision to be the life we could have had together. It could have been beautiful, really. It could have been sheer euphoria and pure bliss. Sadly, it will never be more than an image made up in my mind. In the dream I had last night, I found myself walking down a hallway with numerous doors that led to alternate dimensions. I assume that some of those doorways led to places with happy endings and fulfilled love. For now, I have to accept that I have neither … and may always yearn for both.

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NOVEMBER 19, 2018

In My Thoughts Tessa Bedik Junior

“In My Thoughts” is a piece created to show deep contemplation, a reflection of life, and the intricate meaning behind it. Different memories spark up so many emotions inside someone’s mind. I wanted to convey that feeling through a visual media that is aesthetically pleasing. This piece is personal to me because it is all of the good and bad memories that have stuck with me throughout the beginning of my life. This is a mixed media piece that enhances emotion through the usage of bright yet soothing colors. I hope you enjoy it and it gets you to start thinking with deep thought.

Incubus

David Hernandez-Pinon Film Production , Freshman

As I look down, all I see is my feet standing on the gravel. I don’t know where I am, but it never matters. Once I look up I just keep walking and look at my surroundings. The sky is dull and grey. I walked through the ruins of an old camp; miles of rubble, torn walls, the shacks where everyone slept. I could feel the aura of death and broken spirits throughout the camp. “Am I in Europe?” I thought to myself. Time jumps but it doesn’t startle me; it never does. There’s a concert now, with the stage in the middle of the camp. A sea of people surrounds the rock band, cheering and dancing to their music. But I observe from a distance. I don’t know where everyone came from but I don’t question it. Suddenly my intuition warns me that something is coming, a force that cannot be stopped. As I hear cheers turn into a panic, I turn towards the sky. In front of me, I see an ocean wave that reaches the peak of Everest. As the ocean crashes onto the Earth it swallows everyone. From horizon to horizon there is nothing but water; no one to be seen. However, my instincts kick in, but not for me. I’m not thinking about my own survival. I don’t feel the danger nor the fear of death. As I’m inside the sea the thought of her comes to me; Ody. Then my mind tells me instinctively that she’s in danger; I have to save Ody. I swim to the surface of the water and search for her. I have to save her. Where is she? I can’t lose her. I HAVE TO SAVE HER. I can hear the rhythm of my heart beating as I

search for her. I scream out her name, “Ody, Ody, where are you?!” I fear that it is too late and that I have lost her for good. Then I see her; drowning. That’s when you remember, she doesn’t know how to swim. Then the chaotic waves swallow her into its own abyss. I scream no and swim towards her with all my might, but then suddenly the waves calm themselves. Everything is peaceful and quiet. Then she rises to the surface. All she does is stare into me; no words. Not with joy or even shock that she almost died. No, instead she looks through me with anger and disappointment. But why? I don’t know what I did wrong. I wasn’t sure why she was angry and thought to myself, “She’s angry that I tried to save her.” Now everything is dark except for the ray of light illuminating the room. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. As I wheeze for air, I try to lift myself up but I’m paralyzed. I grasp my breath and rise up only to realize that it was just a dream. I wasn’t sure what to make of the whole thing. A few days pass and the dream still torments me. I contemplated why she was angry. Why would she be angry that I tried to save her? So one day after class I waited in the portable to ask my psychology teacher to help me interpret it. It was the closest thing I was going to get to a real psychologist, but not a poor substitute. I approached my tall, grey-haired teacher, and as he finished talking to another fellow student; he turned to me. He stood in front of me with his broad shoulders and friendly demeanor.

I then described the whole story to him and he listened with focus. After I finished my tale, he began to explain what it meant. He told me the water represented my sexual desires for her. I felt a little embarrassed to hear that but he was right. But it wasn’t just sex; no I desired to be with her. I cared about her genially, and I realized that I still clung onto her. I then asked him about Ody. How she never uttered a single word and stared into my soul with hatred. He then explained that when you have someone you know in your dreams, that is not them. Unless they don’t speak to you at all, then that is the real them. Whatever that person does to you in your dream is a projection of how you feel towards them. I was shocked. I just couldn’t understand how this could be. At that moment I felt no spite or hatred in my heart. I mean she ended up doing me harm, but I didn’t feel angry towards her. I couldn’t fathom it at all. Was I really angry at her? As time continued on I kept coming back to that dream. Eventually, I did come to the realization that I was angry at her. I began to see that I had to stop blaming myself and that I had put her on a pedestal. My burst of anger didn’t come in until further down the line, but the whole thing made me realize that I was burying my emotions from myself. However, I will always remember the moment I first saw her. Her warm embracing smile and enlightening eyes; even her joyous manner. But just like the first time she stared at me, I will never forget her stare from that dream.


NOVEMBER 19, 2018

THE SUNDIAL • ARTS & LITERATURE

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NOVEMBER 19, 2018

A Corner Shot of a Vibrant Garden Tessa Roth

Fine arts, Junior This piece is an abstract composition of a corner of a garden I observed. It was created to play with its representational color palette and instead substitutes it with both primary and secondary colors in its place. This artwork reminds me of a dreamlike state because it separates me from reality. The improper use of its natural colors disconnects me from the world that surrounds me and takes me, instead, to an alternate state of mind.

Déjà Vu Salma Bustos

Electronic media management, Sophomore Once I dreamt about an experience that at the time I didn’t know would happen to me in the future. I had dreamt that I had been walking down a path near the beach at dusk after a long day. The breeze was blowing and I was content with what I had done. Although I only remember a few seconds of the dream, I finally experienced it at the end of the last Warped Tour in Ventura. I had just photographed one of my favorite bands, Taking Back Sunday, for the first time ever and was walking down that same path after the show. It was insane déjà vu. It was reassuring and made me feel like I was doing something right.

Profile for The Daily Sundial

Arts & Literature 2018  

A select collection of artwork and literature submitted by the CSUN community.

Arts & Literature 2018  

A select collection of artwork and literature submitted by the CSUN community.

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