Le Papillon - Edition One: Beginnings & Endings

LE PAPILLON LE PAPILLON

EDITIONNO.1 2023

Editor's Note

Dear reader,

In every beginning is an ending, and in every ending is a beginning. From the changing of seasons to the breaths we take, everything can be something. With the end of this school year approaching, I hope that this magazine can serve as a comfort and reminder of all the paths that you've overcome and the ones that still await.

Our mission here at Le Papillon is to inspire change and creativity by allowing words and art to speak for themselves. For our very first edition, we wanted to choose a theme that people could relate to: something that was both personal and objective, a picture that changes depending on the viewer. As you flip through pages of passion and individuality, consider how each piece speaks to you. You may end up seeing something that nobody else can.

Le Papillon’s Editor-in-Chief, Amanda Chow

IMMORTALITY & REBIRTH

Jessica Morley

This piece depicts the immortal jellyfish, or the Turritopsis dohrnii, in the medusa phase (adulthood), the ephyra larva stage, the planula larva stage, and the egg. I felt that the immortal jellyfish was the perfect fit for beginnings and endings as it regenerates itself when it reaches the end of its life, therefore beginning again. In reality, these jellyfish do not glow, I just chose to in order to make them stand out more.

The setting sun on the city skyline serves as a reminder of life's constant cycle of beginnings and endings, forever evolving, yet still recognizable As the sun rises and sets, we are reminded of the continual rhythm of the new starts and endings that life brings.

Photo by Jaedon Visva

I find it funny, the cat chasing its tail...

The never ending circle the animal seems to be stuck in We laugh and point

Hilarious isn't it?

The dumb thing can’t even recognize what it’s doing.

But are we not the exact same?

We wake up every morning, run the exact same track, come home and curse the world for being miserable

Yet

Do nothing about it but repeat

The ever turning day, night, Torture, Brief joy,

Gone before you can catch a glimpse.

Overloading because that is what is called success,

Feeling the never ending push of responsibilities

Our shell cracking

The wave about to burst the protective bubble of denial

Deny that I am not happy

That by adding more to my cramped plate will not make me happy

And yet I do it still

Chasing my own tail, wishing for happiness yet working against that very wish.

Why can't I just be?

Just be happy.

Just enjoy this supposedly great and wonderful thing called life

Will the flow ever ebb and allow me a chance to breathe I ask,

But who is it that is pouring the water? My own hand.

How silly we must seem to the cat.

Madeline Knapp

THE LAST ROAD - EMILY BLAIR

This acrylic perspective painting exhibits a dark summer day. The dark sky is an ominous blue with the appearance of a potential storm. The fading green fields bring your eyes to the road's end point. It feels nostalgic, as if you ’ ve both been searching for this place your whole life yet also had been here before. It is the last path you can take from here. Everyone gets to this point in their life when there is only one path and it feels like a last choice. Whether it takes you to your own end, or a new beginning – this will be your next place.

THE ROAD TO NEW BEGINNINGS

Chelsea Jenkins

This piece represents the beauty in change. The changing colours of the trees represents a new beginning as the seasons change. Without this change, we would never have seen the beauty of warm, fall colours meshed together.

ANOTHER BEGINS

GARDEN GARBAGE GARDEN GARBAGE GARDEN GARBAGE

ANONYMOUS

Companies destroy the environment just to create factories to manufacture goods. While they may be getting more money in their pockets, they are building a new world that humanity must now deal with.

TALLYMARKS TALLYMARKS TALLYMARKS

LUCY SZERMINSKI LUCY SZERMINSKI LUCY SZERMINSKI

My light goes out and the world goes around I make accusations, they remain unfounded

I learn no lessons, I remain unbound

My head is pounding and my heart’s impounded

How much have I polluted with the trash I’ve cast away?

The waste of my mind scattered on the empty tracks

How great are my real chances of seeing another day?

Thumbs pressed into wrong ends of thumbtacks

And maybe, if I just took off my windbreaker

The wind could break me instead, leave me scattered

It’d do the world good, I am only a taker

No stone left unturned, no teacher left unflattered

Do you know what I want? It’s only one thing

Someone to leave a mark, and for the mark not to be:

A scar that will always carry a sting

Or tally marks counting down time spent with me.

DeathofJuliet

Veanna Felisco

This art piece depicts the story of Romeo and Juliet - more specifically focusing on Juliet as a character. At the beginning of Shakespeare's play, she is described to be a pure, innocent, naive girl.

This is shown in the art piece by the White Lily, as this flower is a symbol of purity. However, in recent years this flower is also seen to be a symbol of death. Juliet's death is also further symbolized in the piece by the blood dripping down the white petal, whilst it is also fading away. Some could say that Juliet's naivety to the world around her was also the cause of her death, as she died for a man she barely knew.

ADRIT PANDA

In a dimly lit hallway inside the ‘“Westside Casino,” Vincent sat slouched on a chair hoping for one more cent. He poured his last bit of life into his hope of moving on, however, his luck started fading like the dying embers of his cigarette. Chip by chip, he lost fragments of his soul, a desperate gamble against fate. As the cards drifted towards his hand, he saw flashes of his childhood lying in each one. As he merged into the chair out of fear, his eyes met the haunting gaze of a raven perched on the windowsill. Its ebony feathers reflected a silver colour from the moonlight. With trembling hands, he pushed his last chips and his soul into the table and embraced the unrhythmic dance. The dance of wilting life. The last card fell. The raven flew away. That very moment, Vincent understood that he, like the raven, was merely a fleeting creature caught in the relentless cycle of chance and fate, destined to be consumed by the all-consuming jaws of the eternal circle. Then the room fell silent. A soul that crumbled from the devastation of purpose.

By: Adrit Panda

BreakingFree

R. L MILLER

Two Sides of the Same Coin

by Amanda Chow

There is a monster beneath my skin. He is ugly and gnarly and everything I am not. He is scary, but he does not wish to be. A gentle beast only to me. He is scared of the light because dark is all he has known. It's not his fault for being hairy, or big, or unusual. The sun burns his skin and he weeps because even monsters can hurt. But the sun does not wish to harm; it is scared of the abnormal because normal is all it has known. Someday my monster will grow too curious, too desperate for the hole in the sky and he will either meet his end there, or melt his skin smooth and his face unrecognizable. The sun is scared of the monster, but fear is simply a response; If the sun were to halt its heat and look, for once, perhaps it would find that the monster is less of a monster and more a reflection if anything.

VENTURE TO THE UNKNOWN

Jaedon Visva

The start of a new journey is often illuminated by the known, but quickly turns dark to the unknown Venturing into the unknown allows new paths to be lit and encourages growth and change

SCARLET MOON Anonymous

This photo shows the glorious moon with a blood red tint. The unsettling red fills the viewer with a sense of foreboding This transformation from the regular moon represents a metaphorical shift in the atmosphere, symbolizing the internal struggle of losing hope

One Fish, Two Fish, Old Fish, New Fish

These are four prints of a unique stamp. The stamp was carved out of rubber, painted with different colours, and printed four times. The different colours of fish represent personal growth, change, and new beginnings.

This piece is of a historical building in downtown Barrie that used to be an abbey and is now a government building.

"Historical Perspective"

MACAILA TOUCHETTE

May Flowers in Bloom

Flowers, like any living thing, have a beginning and an end. May is where everything starts to bloom, and all the flowers come out. In June, when all the flowers disappear, what's left are bright green leaves. Secondly, flowers are consistently used in celebrations around the world and since celebrations are typically based off of a milestone in life, that is another way flowers represent beginnings and/or endings.

The blossom of life

ANONYMOUS

Even in the normality of a green spring, variety can be found.

A bright cherry blossom amidst a sea of green. Spring has finally arrived.

GIRLHOOD GIRLHOOD GIRLHOOD

Cadie Miller

AURORA

In Nakoda culture, the Aurora Borealis are thought to be the ancestors in the sky, looking down on their kin. They are a representation of the circle of life and when someone dies, they are allowed to watch over their people from above in the beautiful night sky.

by Anonymous

Thesparklingwhitemoon,withaneerielightdraws forthadarknessfromwithinmysoul, Andinitsglare,asenseofwrongandrightislost Astheshadowsledmetoblackholes.

Forinthemoon'senchantinglight,Isee Atruth,aglimpseofwhatisyettocome, Thebladedripsred,aslifeslowlyebbsfree, Atell-taleofwhomIwillhavebecome.

ButasIreachedtoescapefromthedark Theshadowsdrewmetowardmydemise Sirensarose,andthemoonleftitsmark Rottingbehindbars,trickedbythemoon’slies.

The Moon’s Deceit

by Adrit Panda

Soletthemoon'salluringlightdeceive, Forwhatisreal,andwhocanIbelieve

Looking for Peace

Taken during the first spring of covid when everyone was still unsure of what was going to happen. This photo represents looking towards the future for hope.

Alexander. T .Rozario

True are the words laid before you

There is this girl, pretty like few

I believe no one can compare

The bluest eyes, and blondest hair

We used to talk, day after day

But one day, she faded away

And I was sent into despair

The bluest eyes, and blondest hair

Oh! That day how I felt so crushed

How my hopes really got shushed

Someone like her is truly rare

The bluest eyes, and blondest hair

Hoping this is all a dream

Because all this makes me scream

And when I see her I just stare

The bluest eyes, and blondest hair

How she holds my heart in her hands

I don’t think that she understands

Just how much I really do care

The bluest eyes, and blondest hair

I hope I get over this girl

Who has made my life such a whirl

But for now she just seems too fair

The bluest eyes, and blondest hair

Bluest Eyes Devin Corti

The future

A stream

A long, winding, twisting river

That flows

In and Out

Over and Under

Not unlike a dream

Never ceasing, always continuing on

A daunting thing

Something to be feared

The fear of failure felt whilst facing the stream

To jump would be to shine

To soar

To succeed

So freeing

So limited,

When one must jump eventually,

Is the excitement replaced?

Replaced with an uneasy

Nauseous notion

The stream

The future

A point to be pushed out

Pushed past

Not thought of, shoved away,

The current so fierce

Those standing on the shore cannot begin to pierce the fray

The unknown is the dangerous play

Expected to know how to dive when all you know to do is stand

On the edge waiting

While planning and preparing for what?

Will the river play out whilst we stand on the shore

MADELINE KNAPP

And how do we know that the current won’t change us, That the watery depths will not mould our core

The flow of the river as certain as the sky

Not knowing what to do

Expected to have all the answers yet not knowing what questions to ask

The current flowing, rushing, gushing, swelling

To the brink,

Ourselves being nudged, pushed, shoved, into the watery depths. The preparation a simple stick to grasp, To float, To live, Against a thrashing, rising, ever-persistent current sending us down, down, down, We scream for help

But the future clogs our throats, The weight of an unyielding rope

Burning, Searing, tearing to the core, Not letting us breathe, when all we want is to swim, But the future,

The vast, deep water is dark, Unknown, Filled with which we can never be prepared. But that is how you learn to swim

Right?

"I made it out of clay

Anonymous

I am awake on a bed, I am awake on a bed, unsure of where I am, unsure of where I am, what I should be doing. what I should be doing. I have been here before; I have been here before; somewhere in the past, somewhere in the past, or the future. or the future.

My soul is contained within these walls, My soul is contained within these walls, and my mind does not understand, and my mind does not understand, But I remember. But I remember.

When a star dies, When a star dies, a new one is born. a new one is born.

All humans are born from stars

All humans are born from stars Their explosions and beautiful destructions. Their explosions and beautiful destructions. Dreaming of when we will return Dreaming of when we will return to our home in the sky. to our home in the sky.

Tethered to a temporary shelter, Tethered to a temporary shelter, longing runs in our bloodstream longing runs in our bloodstream for a place we can never reach. for a place we can never reach.

When a star dies, When a star dies, a new one is born. a new one is born.

Perhaps, the next time I collapse like a Perhaps, the next time I collapse like a supernova, blinding the universe with my supernova, blinding the universe with my demise, demise,

I will be unsure of where I am, I will be unsure of where I am, what I am doing, what I am doing, and I will be asleep on a bed. and I will be asleep on a bed.

((in inceptum finis est in inceptum finis est by Amanda Chow) by Amanda Chow)

CHAD

Illustration by Atlas Wagner

This piece represents the beginning of civilization and the ending and destruction of nature. The path through is how we as a species have transitioned.

The Abyss - Greg Raibov

As the final sun set beyond the horizon

All was still and silent

The fog slowly settled into the Abyss

And the once civilized people turned violent

CREDITS

Executives

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Amanda Chow

MANAGING EDITOR

Madeline Knapp

SPONSORSHIP MANAGER

Chelsea Jenkins

EDITORIAL ASSISTANTS

Louise-Blaise Reniva, Zoey Nikolaus

HEAD OF PUBLIC RELATIONS

Alexandra Murray

HEAD GRAPHIC DESIGNER

Veanna Felisco

EDITORIAL TEAM

Lucy Szerminski, Adrit Panda, Ally Odette

STAFF FACILITATOR

Mr. Lottering

Contributors

Writers: LUCY SZERMINSKI, MADELINE KNAPP, DEVIN CORTI, AMANDA CHOW, ADRIT PANDA, CADIE MILLER, ALLY STRACHAN, GREG RAIBOV

Artists: JESSICA MORLEY, MIRIAM GRACE SZERMINSKI, JAEDON VISVA, CHELSEA JENKINS, EMILY BLAIR, VEANNA

FELISCO, R. L. MILLER, LUCY SZERMINSKI, MACAILA

TOUCHETTE, ALEXANDER. T. ROZARIO, ATLAS WAGNER, ANONYMOUS ARTISTS