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art cannot be defined by a few lines of words or a few strokes of a brush. art can be self-expression, art can be communication, art can be an attempt to change the world. this zine will dedicate itself to the art that the youth creates; those who are young and those who feel young. the people whose inspirations shine a light on the darkness of the world, who are determined to change the world or themselves - both of which are hard tasks to conquer; this zine will dedicate itself to art with meaning made by people who create meaning through art. this zine is the product of what we, as a powerful force of youth, create, no matter what our own definitions of art may be.


“ this is a first for me, s o b e a r w i t h m e i f i s c re w t h i s u p .

of course, these few words won’t validate whatever screwup might occur in the future. but for me, this is a way of ensuring myself some kind of freedom to do whatever i want to do, to gather the last bits of courage to try something new. and let’s be honest: isn’t this what life’s all about? — now that i have gotten that out of the way… i’ve been wanting to create this zine for quite a while and i am forever thankful to everyone who has helped and contributed. and, of course, to whoever is flipping through these pages at this very moment. this entire thing wouldn’t be real without you. with love, ayna founder and editor

find me: instagram & tumblr: libraerie


issue.

content.

ONE // september 2018 “another fall, another turned page: there was something of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning, as if last year’s mistakes had been wiped clean by summer. — wallace stegner, angle of repose

i. change page six to thirteen ii. art page fourteen to nineteen iii. you

contact. libraerie@yahoo.com libraerie.tumblr.com

page twenty to twenty-five iv. myth page twenty-six to thirty-one

contributors. amanda
 tumblr: wlwesque / instagram: hearte.out ester tumblr / instagram : mielgal hester tumblr / instagram: diregays kayla bethke tumblr: kaylasphotographs jana tumblr: prettynaet morgan alexis tumblr: meloqrama / instagram: morganislaaame morgan jarrett tumblr: roneybunches

libraerie. the libraerie magazine offers a platform for young artists to raise their voices about their identity, their thoughts and their hopes in their respective ways of creating. the simple format enables the reader to fully engage with the work without having any aesthetics prescribed beforehand.


cc hh aa nn gg ee

my question is: how are you willing to ? 
 because when we pose solutions, to write letters and to have conversations and to speak out, you claim we just don’t understand.
 you’ve become desensitized, and now, when you hear about a school shooting in a place you’ve never been before, you shake your head and mutter your condolences.
 we aren’t the ones for muttering.
 we are loud and rambunctious and outspoken and tired of our brothers and sisters dying for no rhyme or reason.
 so we yell and scream and march for regulation and order.
 we shout for emphasis on the things that matter; we’d prefer our futures in place of outdated laws.
 we are a generation of love and awareness, and our hearts have been and will continue to be open to those who need us, and we need each other now more than ever.
 we need to actually listen to one another and change the way we address loss.
 we’ve been stuck in an irreparable and numb loop of silent prayers and no action that can only be broken by flame.
 the fuse was lit back when my heart broke seventeen times down in florida, and now we are exploding.
 what we want is to be heard, and it’s well past our time for an audience.
 we are called self-centered and vain, but really? we are realistic, and we can see a clear and viable solution lying in wait.
 we’re done waiting; enough is enough.

march 14th, by morgan alexis


by hester

mute

by morgan j.

i find the words i want to say are trapped behind my teeth. they are there, straining to come out, and yet, i cannot speak. as i grow older, i have realized i speak less and think more. i am not sure whether i will be afraid or grateful the day i no longer speak at all.


bittersweet i still miss the cool air, still miss the night sky, even when the memories take over my mind. i still miss the ocean, still miss the sand, the mist, the breeze, once held in my hand. i’ll remember those nights, the ones i hold close, i’ll remember your smile, the thing i miss the most. by morgan j.

you are my darling, you are my girl, my sweet surrender, my shining pearl. you are my downfall, the one i fear. i’ll stay forever, with you, right here.

purgatory


by hester


CLIMATE CHANGE has become a popular debate topic throughout the world. There are a lot of conflicting theories, but the only one science supports is that climate change is happening, and that the majority of it is caused by humans. Humans have contributed to approximately 97% of global warming currently in the Earth today by sending exorbitant amounts of gas, smoke, and oil, among others, into the atmosphere. If we do not change the way we live, high temperatures caused by these global emissions will end up turning the world into a giant boiler, at temperatures so hot that there is no way we or any other living being will be able to survive.
 Politics play a big part in human influence on global warming. Just recently, President Donald Trump took a large percentage of the funding away from the Environmental Protection Agency, or EPA, which is dedicated to trying to make America a country without so many global emissions. He defunded the project by 31%, which is $2.6 million of the original funding. Oil companies, among other industry-based organizations, contribute roughly 21% to Earth’s rise in carbon dioxide levels. They are fully aware of the scientific facts about global warming and the effect industry has on climate change but are doing nothing to change their ways. The oil industry was warned of “serious worldwide environmental changes” in the 1960s. An important body of the oil industry, American Petroleum Institute, or API, knew about the dangers of climate change long before it was publicly brought up and talked about. In 1968, a report was presented to API by the Stanford Research Institute warning that the release of carbon dioxide from burning fossil fuels could be harmful to the planet. The report stated, “Significant temperature changes are almost certain to occur by the year 2000 and these could bring about climatic change.” The world’s largest oil company, ExxonMobil, knew about climate change in 1981, yet over the next 27 years spent millions of dollars to promote the denial of climate change and refused to acknowledge the issue. When spending money to deny the issue, oil companies benefit by blindsiding their customers. They realize that going environmentally friendly would mean that their individual profits would be greatly reduced. In 1946, oil and gas executives of the Center for International Environmental


Law, or CIEL, met and agreed that they should fund research into air pollution; however, those ideas were covered up by oil companies to protect their company profits. The president of CIEL, Carroll Muffett, said the 1968 documents “add to the growing body of evidence that the oil industry worked to actively undermine public confidence in climate science and in the need for climate action even as its own knowledge of climate risks was growing. These documents are the tip of an evidentiary iceberg that demands further investigation. Oil companies had an early opportunity to acknowledge climate science and climate risks, and to enable consumers to make informed choices. They chose a different path. The public deserves to know why.” Michael Mann, the leading climate scientist of Pennsylvania State University believes it is “disgraceful that industry groups like API knowingly hid the dangers of their project decades ago when they first learned of them, much as the tobacco industry hid the dangers of their product”. It has been shown that 90 companies can be held responsible for climate change since the beginning of the industrial age. A large majority of the companies produce oil, gas, or coal. They are also mainly well known oil companies such as BP, Chevron, ExxonMobil, and Royal Dutch Shell. Naomi Oreskes, professor of the history of science at Harvard, pointed out that several of the top companies included in the list have funded the climate denial movement. These industrial companies have gone to extremes to make sure their businesses remain successful and their profits stay high. The only way for them to do this is to deny climate change is happening. 
 There is a lot of scientific evidence to back up the theory of climate change and that it is ultimately caused by humans. The rate of climate change has increased rapidly ever since the industrial revolution, and is continuing to increase today due to the global emissions deposited into the air by industrial pollution. This is causing the destruction of Earth’s environment, leading to the depletion of ozone layers, deforestation, demolition of habitats, and 
 the destruction of ecosystems, among others things. Our environment will be unable to sustain the amount of carbon dioxide in the air for much longer, which is why humans need to make a change,



starting with our oil, coal, and gas companies. However, these companies are denying that global warming is happening to benefit their businesses and make them more money.

CLIMATE CHANGE IS REAL AND THOUGH HUMANS HAVE THE ABILITY TO STOP IT, WE ARE DENYING IT BECAUSE CHANGING OUR WAYS TO PRODUCE LESS GLOBAL EMISSIONS WOULD BE CHANGING A WAY OF LIFE WE HAVE KNOWN FOR DECADES AND THAT WE ARE TOO SELFISH TO GIVE UP.

the politics of climate change by morgan j.


by hester


aa rr tt i s w h a t m a k e s l i f e w o r t h l i v i n g . I t ’s w h a t k e e p s u s g o i n g . In those moments when you can barely breathe and every inhale feels like someone’s stabbing push pins into your heart, when the water is dark and freezing and you’re just managing to keep your nose above it, you look to art. You match David’s gaze or you stand and stare at The Last Supper, and maybe the beauty you find in those things is enough to make you think, Hey, maybe not everything is so cruel and ugly. Or you’re sitting out on your front lawn and the sky is peachy orange and you want to write about it, because even though your heart is sitting at the bottom of your stomach the breeze feels nice and the sound of your dog chasing birds in his sleep is comforting and yeah, not everything feels okay, but this moment does so why not capture it? And one night you might find yourself in a far away city you’d never have dreamed of ending up in with the girl that you love and she’ll insist on taking photos of you, and even though you have never been your favorite sight you might let the camera click and you might blink after the flash and maybe - maybe you’ll see what she sees; maybe you’ll like the smile you so often try to hide and maybe you’ll remember the music that played when you showed it, so wildly different in a language you won’t know but so full of emotion you’ll feel it right there, winding throughout your ribcage nonetheless. Maybe you don’t often stop to think about some of the most beautiful things in life - but when you do, the waters calm a bit and the ache in your chest subsides, if only for a moment. It’s sublime, and you find yourself pushing on one more day, one more week, a month, a year - because it’s that sublimity for which we live. It’s the small, hopeful voice at the back of your head saying, “Maybe I’ll visit that museum tomorrow. Maybe I’ll pick up the piano again. Maybe I’ll write that story I wanted to write, even if I know it won’t turn out so good. Maybe tomorrow won’t be so bad.” And maybe you’ll smile, because eventually y o u

won’t

have

to

by jana

hope.


by ester


by kayla


compassion by morgan alexis

i just had the singular, most depressing thought of, “i never want to do anything for anyone,” and then my eyes widened at the empty cavity where my heart used to be.
 i lived for so long, not acknowledging my own wants and needs, never chasing my bliss, and i focused myself into other stars in my galaxy life. 
 eventually, i said “fuck that,” and i started seeing myself as The Sun, instead of just another star. 
 s e l f l o v e is a mantra i shout the minute i wake up, empty and pointless, and it’s too loud to hear anything outside of my one-track mind. 
 i’ve become what i fear most; i killed the monster under my bed, then pulled on its clothes.
 i miss caring, about myself and about others, because if there’s one thing life has to offer, it’s companionship, especially when it feels like you’re millions of miles apart.


“the world is shaded in melancholy n the breeze is soft n gentle on ur skin n the moon is soso pretty in her pink sky n ur coffee tastes like vanilla n everything feels still, still, still� by jana

sometimes‌, tyler, the creator

sink in, amy shark

riptide, vance joy

coachella, lovelytheband

venice, the lighthouse and the whaler

dreammybeat, tomppabeats

let it go, james bay

kiss the girl, samuel e. wright

heart eyes, coin

step, vampire weekend

hard feelings / loveless, lorde

the only thing, sufjan stevens

from the dining table, harry styles

134340, bts

long espresso, o k h o & saito

teeth, the japanese house

without you, oh wonder

coffee, sylvan esso

liability (reprise), lorde

warm, joey pecoraro

friends, ed sheeran

campus, vampire weekend

pink skies, lany

malibu 1992, coin

obvious bicycle, vampire weekend

tomorrow never came, lana del rey

ivy, frank ocean

& sean ono lennon

orange juice, tomppabeats

cigarette daydreams, cage the

sober, childish gambino

elephant

keeping a secret, bleachers

writer in the dark, lorde

lately, coin

i stand corrected, vampire weekend

stars across the sky, bien

your eyes, joey pecoraro


i dance in the refrigerator light, i sing in empty rooms. i drive through sleeping towns, music at the highest volume. i break down from kind words, build back up from judgement. i learn as i go, live and die in every moment.

make me feel by morgan j.


it

by hester

used

to


be

yy oo uu .. you were the one that clouded my thoughts and filled my vision with you and me and us, no matter where i looked.
 but now, where you were, lies a n e b u l o u s l o v e ,
 something formless and faded.
 it lies in a lock box on my shelf and sometimes i peer in and smile,
 back to a time when my heart knew up from down, when it knew you.

- ethereal

by morgan alexis

by kayla


the envy of winter but maybe it isn’t so bad,

by morgan alexis

where the world is blue and you can see your breath. through the frosted glass, the chill almost seems inviting. it seems enticing and curious, but only when you’re bundled in blankets and your fireplace is crackling, logs settling into their places; only when the harsh air and suffocating wind live as a memory.

by kayla


from your perspective by morgan j.

i have a heart, i swear i do. i know how to love, i swear that, too. i can be kind, and soft, and sweet, just not when it comes to you and me.

by amanda


to fall together (v.) — by morgan alexis

to finally meet your Person; to live and coexist with someone for long enough that things begin to fade around the edges, the definition between you and Them becomes unclear; to have an understanding of your love and admiration ( this feeling is often times too complex to admit to yourself ) and to still choose not act on it —at least, not yet; to realize that you Have each other through thick and thin, that you won’t ever have to be alone, not anymore; a phenomenon often sought after, rare like alexandrite and twice as precious.


by hester


When you run her hand in yours, pulling, pulling, pulling. This is all she wanted. She was all you wanted. You don’t stop until you reach the car. Bright red. („Matches your hair“, your mother had said the day she spotted it in a gas station parking lot. She was exaggerating, teasing to make you feel better. It didn’t work, but you wanted her to think it did so you smiled at her. Then you turned toward the car so you didn’t have to look at her anymore.) You unlock the car with the key you took from your mother. You open the door and the smell of her is everywhere. The dusky scent of her favorite cigarettes, the sour smell of a horrible mix of vodka and whiskey and cherry coca cola. You almost flinch from the memories that rush to the front of your mind. You don’t. The opening of the passenger side door reminds you of what you have planned. You get in the car and sit in silence, memorizing the way the hair of the girl beside you falls across her face, having half a mind to reach across the shift and tuck it away behind her ear. She turns toward you and you’re caught staring. She quirks a brow. You start driving. You didn’t have a destination in mind when you decided to do this. You take random turns. You drive until the road diverges into two. You take the right-hand path. You find yourself driving to a deserted field, sun setting on the horizon. You have no choice but to stop, so you stop. She doesn’t seem affected.

g i r l o f mm yy tt hh by morgan j.

She opens the glovebox and pulls out a carton of your mother’s favorite cigarettes and a lighter. The box hasn’t been opened. She leans across the center console and takes the keys from the ignition, dragging one across the plastic covering the cigarettes. She lights one and takes a drag. She exhales onto your face. You inhale, and feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. You take the cigarette from her hand and take a drag. She smiles. “Leech. Get your own,” she says, but she lights a new one for herself anyway. You love her. You love her like you never thought you’d be able to love anyone and your life is in shambles. You know what’s coming has to happen but it doesn’t make it any easier. You say the first words you’ve said to her since you met her two years ago. Your voice is scratchy and broken from a mix of disuse and a heavy need to cry. “I’m so sorry.” Her smiles falls slightly for a split second, eyes widening in shock, but she acts like nothing happened when she asks, “For what?” You want to hold her, kiss her, tell her to run away from you, but you can’t.


by kayla

“Stay here,” you say, and you get out of

You’ve hit rock bottom. When you open

the car. She listens. You wish she

your eyes the feeling surrounds you,

wouldn’t. You walk to the trunk and take

takes you, consumes you until you can’t

out the gasoline you put in there hours

feel anything else. You don’t think

before and begin pouring it in a circle

you’ll ever feel another emotion again.

around the car. She doesn’t realize

You can smell the smoke, see the flames

what’s happening until you reach her

growing. Beyond you the sky is black.

window.


No clouds, no stars, no moon. The only

Her eyebrows furrow and her eyes

light comes from the car burning beside

widen and she starts yelling. You take

you. You know if you look it’ll become

another drag from the cigarette you took

real. You know if you don’t you’ll never

from her. You drop it.


accept it. You look. She’s still sitting in

You turn away and sit on the ground

the passenger seat. You had no choice.

beside the burning car. You sit, and you

She was already gone. You see her and

feel, and you hate it. You close your

you smell the smoke and everything is

eyes.

too much, too fast. This wasn’t what you wanted to happen, but at least your mom will be happy.


by hester


june 22, 1:51 pm by jana

nostalgia, i've learned, tastes like honey. or is it the other way around? i don't know. thick and overwhelmingly glacĂŠ, almost sickening, that's what i know. she tastes like nostalgia, or honey, or honey tastes like her, or whatever - it's all the same, anyway. i kiss her and her lip gloss sticks to my mouth - it smells like strawberries, she smells like strawberries and my brain is going, hey, this is nice, and then this feeling hits me, and it's not strawberries and it's not honey, but it's like i already know how much i'm going to miss the moment before it's even over. it's premature nostalgia, and it makes my throat feel weird, like i just downed a starbucks hot chocolate in less than a few gulps and it's way too sweet, fucking saccharine, and i don't quite feel like throwing up but i almost want to, i want to get rid of her taste in my mouth and her treacly effect, so i won't ever have to worry about facing the cloudy sadness of reminiscence. i'm not vomiting it all up, though, so i guess i'll deal.


if i run, let me go. if i fall, let me die. take my life, burn it all. break my heart, make me cry. when i leave, drag me home. i am yours. hold the throne. call the shots, i run for cover. hold my breath, call me lover.

terrible thrills by morgan j.

by kayla


by hester


LIBRAERIE MAG : issue one  
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