Cover: Levitate, Rowan Parkinson
“I think you ' ve still got lightning in you. ”
- Suzy Bishop, Moonrise Kingdom
THE SELLADORE
"I was astonished when someone first showed that by writing cellar door as Selladore one produces an enchanting proper name. ” - C.S. Lewis
“Your language too has soft and beautiful words, but they are not always appreciated. What could be more musical than your word cellar-door?” - W.D. Howells
“The modern small home or apartment has ... deprived today's child of ... the pleasant summer afternoon activity of sliding down cellar doors. Just what happened to the slanted cellar door in this efficient age isn't clear; although cellars have remained, nothing has disappeared more quietly from modern life than these cellar doors.” - William Chapman White
“This famous linguist once said that of all the phrases in the English language, of all the endless combinations of words in all of history, that ‘cellar door’ is the most beautiful ” - Karen Pomeroy
“Sell a cellar, door a cellar, sell a cellar cellar-door, door adore, adore a door, selling cellar, door a cellar, cellar cellar-door There is damned little meaning and less sense in such a sentence, but there is, unless my tonal balance is askew, twice more rhythm and twice more lovely sound in it than in anything, equally idiotic, that Miss Gertrude ever confected.” - George Jean Nathan
“I’m like you ...I remember everything.” - André Aciman
“No. It’s not a name. It’s something else. Selladore, it’s not a princess’ name, it can’t be. Selladore… is a place… It is a place which is revered by all who know of it. A sacred place marked at its centre by… by trees.” - David Gleeson and Stephen Beresford
“I am my own muse. I am the subject I know best, the subject I want to know better.” - Frida Kahlo
“The art of art, the glory of expression, and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.” - Walt Whitman
“Goodbye earthling, you were more perfect than anyone, though far from it ” - Margaret Atwood
INTRODUCTION
Within these pages are entire worlds, constellations of meaning and purpose brought to bear upon us by the students of Elmwood. There is a startling array of techniques and styles fraught with humour, passion and intent. Though each piece says something different, they are similar in that they all say something meaningful and forceful. We started this journal for this expressed purpose: to give the students of this school an opportunity to regain control over language and to exert agency where there might exist passivity. These authors have tamed language to meet their emotional ends and, in so doing, give you, the reader, an understanding that such things are possible, no matter your age or experience We ask simply that you read these words with an open mind, an open heart, and with the understanding that, should you choose to express yourself as well, the next issue will be waiting for you
Sincerely, Your
Editors
Tina
Elizabeth
Julia
Daryna
IRememberYou
TRACKLIST
ChristopherBear,DanielRossen
Dock
Sea-Watch
Saku
iii apathy
ComeSoftly-ForDanielD.
20220302-sarabande
EmilySprague
FloatingPoints
SusumuYokota
clairerousay
GiaMargaret Grouper
RyuichiSakamoto
ViewfromMyWindow
Subliminal valleyofthesaroos
LostSong
HiroshiYoshimura FogLake farewell,alaska
SeaOleena
Where The Sky Fell, Maya Yemm
Mixed media on paper
Ode to Celadine
Kaede Takenaka
When does a man become a monster?
Is it when it strikes out its first push in defiance of its mother? Or when he halfheartedly caresses his lover, While his pack near the door collects dust and clutter? Is it when it incinerates thousands in its path, Leaving nought but bloodshed and tyranny All in the name of success, it laughs, As moonlight cloaks its villainy.
Embrace the sips of nectar, And the luxuries of home, For you and I both know, Your sacrifices belong in a tomb.
This question didn’t pop in my mind, When we first met with your steely eyes, Nor did it happen when I finally talked to you, About your alleged family spies.
I thought you a strategist, a tactician, Even a poet and a romantic, Now all I see through greyed eyes, Is a ravenous man.
It fights with a doe, In the whirling snow, Hunched over with bloodshot eyes, As I attempt to entice,
The future of humans isn’t in the builders, The innovators and the trailblazers, It’s in the poets, artists, lovers, And daring daydreamers.
So friend, as I lay in the snow, Soft cracks rippling my skin, Leave me in the earth, And, finally, bury your forsaken kin.
Letting Go, Elizabeth Chen-Baker
Rising Tide, Julia Blair
Incline, Daryna Mardak
Hidden Emotions, created and modelled by Madeline Winter
“This piece represents the emotions that get bottled up inside of us and serves as a reminder that it is okay and normal to feel multiple and contradicting emotions.”
Multidimensional perspective, Michelle Liu
Chrysalis
Audrey Sluban
they always talk about the butterfly but never the mess it takes to get there. not the soft body melting inside a shell of itself, not the wings forming in silence, not the lonely stillness mistaken for laziness. but still— what a wonder it is to become something new without ever leaving yourself behind. to build a future out of quiet courage and tiny yeses. to stretch unfamiliar wings and not ask if you ’ re ready, but go anyway.
change isn’t always loud. sometimes it hums in the background, like a song you didn’t know you already knew the words to. a whisper that says: you are allowed to outgrow what once fit. you are allowed to shine without permission. and maybe the goal wasn’t just to fly but to feel the wind and know you made it.
Knight Horse, Tamsen Taylor
Front Row, Elizabeth Chen-Baker
Lure, Maddie Petit
Red Horizon, Maddie Petit
Click to play
Misty & I’ve Never Been in Love Before, Sadie Hanley
Watching the Maypole
Sloane Bradley
Ribbon, ribbon. Ribbon, twist and tie. Circle your brothers and sisters,
Tangle the tops of their hands together, bending and beaming in the sunlight. Watch their faces under your cover, watch their mouths, watch their eyes. Ribbon tie and ribbon twist.
Ribbon, ribbon.
Ribbon, sleep through the day. Hang in the light of a burning sun.
Rest from the party in the shade of cool trees, under blue skies and dragonflies. Feel their wings hum in the air, listen for the sound of coming winds. Ribbon rest and ribbon dream.
Ribbon, Ribbon. Ribbon, shiver in the gentle wind. Shake with the memory of the dance as the flowers fade to orange and sunburnt yellow. Reminisce about the faces and the laughing. Watch with worry as the sun slips further and further in the sky, that cold-promised sky.
Ribbon shake and ribbon dance.
Ribbon, Ribbon.
Ribbon, Feel how quiet feels.
When no more hands are flying under you. When the day is night and the night is dark. When the season has changed so your reverie is no longer welcome. Not in the dark, the cold, the long night. Not welcome in the shuttered hands of shivering skin.
Ribbon wait and ribbon weep.
ARTISTS
Maya Yemm
Augustine Burton-Tiampo
Michelle Liu
Daryna Mardak
Kaede Takenaka
Alex Clysdale
Tina Zhang
Elizabeth Chen-Baker
Julia Blair
Izzie Morgan
Madeline Winter
May Wang
Audrey Sluban
Tamsen Taylor
Ava Minnes
EDITORS
Rowan Parkinson
Maddie Petit
Sloane Bradley
Sadie Hanley
FOUNDERS
Megan Sweeney
Safa Siddiqui
PAST EDITORS
Sophia Swettenham
Madeleine Klebanoff O’Brien
Linnea Dalvi
Zaina Khan
Abigail Butler
Hannah Gerring
Bianca Sugunasiri
Stella-Charles Fisher