loam fall 2014

Page 1

loam fall 2014

Alison Znamierowski ‘15

Papaya Kate Weiner ‘15

contents Editors’ Note................................................................................................................................3 Artist Statement: Joseph Smolinski.............................................................................................5 The Blind Beekeeper by Nick Martino.......................................................................................8 Autumn Leaves by Alison Znanmierowski...............................................................................14 Rick by Nicole Stanton...............................................................................................................21 The March by Morgan Hill.......................................................................................................28

Mary & Moon by Kate Weiner..................................................................................................45 Artwork by Brandon Ho, Rick Manayan, Joey Strella, Matilda Ostow, Melissa Joskow,

loam editorial staff Noelle Hiam Melissa Joskow Nicole Stanton Elijah Stevens Kate Weiner


welcome to loam.

ty’s progress towards a more conscious way of living. We hope you will enjoy these pages packed with marvel.

animals tagged with radio tracking devices. These monitored animals range from endangered species, animals considered game, and invasive species. Increasingly the

through human intervention and technology. I am interested in recording this period

I am also interested in how the data that is collected from these telemetry tags maps the environment in new ways and in locations previously inaccessible. In many ways

concerning surveillance and information privacy.


Bighorn Sheep, 2014 Joseph Smolinski


the blind beekeeper nick martino in the ringing copper kiln

and husks and husks of paper shells of seedpods hotly clattering much is revealed to rescue the heart that visionary apparatus. in colonies

to gladful loam

the cosmos vivid, between the folds

gold spear, a clever goldenrod of cotton beaming frothed by blond winging droplets, livid glyphs that live inside a hollow

of whispering prisms and valves

glisten with resinous propolis. as you

grip something earthen, iron, cold, a bluish token to decant the ambery seep you covet,

sending across chambers the pulp in your eyes in the palm of her hand

couldn’t quite shake the image of the melting couple. As their soap skins wore away, their underlying frames poked through. The sense of reemergence—of loss transitioning into new—was palpable.

process where I don’t like new stuff because it has so much less history and character in

score a free bed. And for the installation shown at left, she worked with used furniture to

Nicole Stanton ‘15


Keelung, Taiwan Brandon Ho ‘18


autumn leaves

the leaves that soaked up our spring (lust,love,loss) are wilting on their branches effortlessly falling to the ground or torn away by the wind from where they to become dirt and dust (the ground on which we walk) and much like the memories they hold (we long to forget) we break them down with each step we take and now we can hardly remember the emotions that invaded the buds burst open their leaves and

(the spring before)


eating local During a span of thirty days stretching from October to November, Danielle Pruitt and Jaxie Friedman, both Environmental Studies majors and passionate advocates for food justice, will be going 100% local: that means everything they eat and drink must be grown within be it conversations with nearby farmers or cooking with friends. Below, Danielle and Jaxie graciously share with us the details of their incredible documentary, from the challenges of eating local to the amazing projects at play in Middletown to the moonshine made from N.Y. corn that you can snag at Metro. On the project and planning: Danielle: for thirty days and we’re visiting most of the food sources. The project manifested this summer when I knew dom people to be vegans for a month and I was inspired by that and then I was thinking fast food has been dertaking so I was thinking which one of my friends can take on a project like this and be really committed


liked visiting farmers markets and trying to get as much as I can, and this summer was a big stepping stone

On preparing for their thirty day challenge: Danielle: We got a lot of food in advance. We’ve been doing research for the last month about where to get things and last night we made a hug tub of tomato sauce and squash soup and vegetable broth and we’re your door and we will be getting a lot of our produce from them. We’ll be ordering from then on a biweekly 15

Jaxie: Based on this time of year, there are certain things you need to get. We got big things of blueberries gourd time of year so that we don’t need to get in advance whereas the greens we’re getting we’ll have to get every week or two weeks because they just go bad too quickly. We’re going to prepare some things in ad

Danielle: Jaxie: will be a question. We haven’t been able to make a starter for yeast which would’ve been required. Danielle:

Jaxie: My thesis is looking at the healing power of food and using a locally sourced diet to heal the environ ment and to heal humans. Because with processed food, you’ve got a lot of major health issues coming up in America today, so [my thesis is about] looking at the potential [of different consumption patterns] to heal,

ence in Society Program, it was not even in my realm of consciousness [that he would approve this idea for my thesis]. I honestly thought it was going to get shut down right away, and he was super supportive. He of people write about them don’t necessarily take it into practice. Our thirty day challenge is creating a way for me to take my theoretical thesis and make it more concrete in reality. Danielle:

Jaxie: Danielle: Jaxie: Especially because there is a distinction between eating locally grown and locally made products. A lot of products that are manufactured and marketed as local, you don’t necessarily know where the ingredi

Danielle: one factor of it is local and the rest is outsourced. That comes from people not being that curious and asking.

Jaxie: trying to look up the location of these places that are labeled and manufactured and I can’t actually get it to

Danielle: Jaxie: she really tries to grow everything in her own garden, but even in that case, she was talking about how her parsley and cilantro didn’t grow very well this year so all of her dried herb blends she makes she had to produce their stuff in an incredibly sustainable and ethical way, but it’s interesting because you don’t really can’t always do that. On farming and food: Danielle:

Jaxie: farm. Our other sources haven’t been organic. We’re trying to visit different kinds of farms to see what is stand on that is to be decided. Because it’s interesting, when you are talking to the farmers themselves, you know they have a really deep relationship, and sometimes, sustainability just isn’t really practical... Danielle: about how he only eats from his garden. It’s healthy...

Jaxie: And someone in his family had had cancer, so they were trying to make sure he eats a lot of greens and things that are good at building up your body’s immune system. On eating local: Jaxie: Everyone has been supportive of going local to different degrees and in every instance we’ve talked

Danielle: It’s interesting that all farmers have different perspectives on the things that they grow and what the level of intake of what they grow should be. My assumption going [into this project] was that all farmers ate from the farm. Jaxie: One of the things that I think is most interesting is the fact that money really does play into [eating loves yogurt and they sometimes have to get yogurt from the supermarket because their own yogurt is too point. To consider the fact that the income from farming doesn’t even allow you to fully consumer your own goods. Danielle: dletown residents taking advantage of that. Jaxie: I’m involved with and the kids are so funny, so many of them don’t like to eat vegetables. Danielle:

Jaxie: There was a girl who was saying she hated just about every vegetable and then I had her try some arugula and she loved it. I couldn’t believe it. Arugula is kind of spicy, a little bit bitter... Danielle:

Fruit Noelle Hiam ‘15


Motion Kate Weiner ‘15

Beebalm Joey Strella ‘15


rick nicole stanton We met a man plucking tins out of bins under layers of leftovers. The crowd wasn’t doing it right. People brushed past and interrupted my trying to inhale his intrigue. Your scent intersected my fascination and I sunk my chin into your shoulder He left our triangle of space, a world away from the bluegrass and the murmur of crowds and you told me he pushes things into lakes. I’m not He probably heaves his aged shoulder into lifeless trunks just to hear the sound of sinking. Maybe it’s for the sight of water resisting displacement with white round pockets erupting the stillness in defeat. I’m thinking of a He wouldn’t be able to see that, though. He must imagine the landing and its settling, watching from the surface

I stopped thinking about Rick because I’ve been trapped in that viscous space between me and you. It’s like an infant thrusting his hands into there are dissolved into this foreign rawness. Then I’m there with chin on shoulder and I’m not noticing the novelty of this man shoving solids into liquids.

Nicole Stanton ‘15

Joseph Smolinski


Noelle Hiam ‘15

the march morgan hill I don’t recall spilling onto 5th avenue. A day of staying standing dissolves one’s

obdurate; a huge tenor of fatalism, a mass of raw indictments and a grave sense of

communing for causes and marching out our collusions toward an arbitrary point of mutual dispersion. A spilling out of gallons of urine and cash into the lower districts of steely habit.

Beforehand, trekking through the park, the reservoir leeched an appropriate scum,

with iron escorted us from east to west. The reservoir felt blessed as I walked with my

kinds of weather, but its timbre was still doused in busking opera singers and the stupefying absence of swans. The air was warm and dank. I dressed too much for it, so we paused at

sunrise toward the phlegmatic underground we went to protest that precise distinction and


Mostly, I saw old friends. People I knew before they moved to New York, now having moved to New York. Each recollection was a study in subtly feigned coincidence. A boy who always wears sweaters was wearing a sweater. A girl was happy when I remembered

brownstone among strollers. I had a second serendipitous encounter with a man I know just now come home from years in Thailand. A friend I would have slept with was busy at a wedding. My housemate was away with a separatist faction. A beloved professor strolled with her Jesuit friends. My brother and his boyfriend were in their shared apartment, demurely uptown. On park west, our faces were damp and tall. The students met between two blocks. A man was handing out gummy symbols of birds to paint on our arms, or the copper cheeks of my companion and mine in the heat. A shock of deep orange in denim is our beacon.

our most renewable energy. The having and losing of friends in a crowd rolls out and back like tides, this moonish pride as yet unharnessed by the world’s most major ports. The

print. I saw no celebrities in person. The night before, I stood soberly on a corner and conversed emphatically with

its ruse. One cannot attend without participating. Still, I went to see it. To hang out with girls and emote throughout the gathering. To feel righteously undergraduate, to hear the

that single, undeniable resonance: periodically, in a manner that implicated but seemed to lack the instruction of surveillance, a hush would fall around us. A fully aware quiet. Then

of buildings. Loosing out our cynicism, drawing out our proud yells for that ripple in the

Elijah Stevens ‘15


Matilda takes care of her baby aloe and heartleaf

Kate and Abby, curled up with Kate’s succulents


Jackie with her lovely purple shamrock

Noname, Moroccan kitten, at home with her house plants


Jason chills with some chives and oregano

How does your pla

Jackie: I feel comforted, like I’m not alone. Bonnie rode with me across the country on a roa

When did you m Jason

How do you

Rosy: I give it an apologetic smile every morning w

What are three adjective Matilda:

If you were a plant, what t Kate:

ant make you feel?

ad trip. She was my companion. We’ve been through a lot together. We keep each other alive.

meet your plant?

u tend to it?

when I leave for work. I’ve watered it a few times.

es to describe your plant?

type of plant would you be?



a dream noelle hiam everyone knows, smoke is our panacea her stamen tickle my eyelashes and the nape of my neck and the space between a smell and sight. Each of her cells becomes my sun and when it rains I am safe. I’m not sure if I would rather See from the inside or out. This morning I am tall on the highest mountain. She left her trail of beads soon dispersed by the wind of our bare soles. It is morning and I am ready for you to remove the scaffolding from around my body my limbs are stiff and I have been building a web My legs sticky And glistening, I am spinning Once I have stretched to begin my walk. I look back and around and mostly down but also up and If you need me in our hive. Hiding out until

* If trying to sleep or otherwise, please remember this noise that I’m making is not for you. this noise is the vibration of one hundred parts working as one. as I fall deeper the stem is my chamber, glistening, And spinning. vibrating with the gentle inching of summertime growth, if we were stems I would be herbaceous and you woody Or, perhaps the other way around.

where everything grows out from the center Echinacea, Lemon Balm, and the sound golden and dripping trains passing in and out through this dream. a dream: I awake with visions of your hands your hands or that old man of the woods. your hands dusted in spores spreading seeds of a species

that is not and never will be your own. and when we emerge from the foliage and that rusted piece of wire fencing, off of and into everything breathing and then It is nighttime and I am not quite certain what has become of the morning. When it rises with your hands, the wet, and that old dog we feed sometimes Try not to mistake our freshly watered dimensions, even though they are volatile, mercurial and pulsing as one.

Noelle Hiam ‘15

City Melissa Joskow ‘18


environment with our desire to enact meaningful change. Her thesis will be a series of

related graphic design. Her artistic vision is an incredible step in making hard facts

understand things in this very reductionist way where we approach information in its parts— let’s look at land use in an isolated way, what’s happening to this population of a species— and the really important thing is to see how everything is related. The way we tend to

devise sustainable solutions.

China Walls 40

Cajon del Maipo Kate Weiner ‘15


Sea Turtle, 2014 Joseph Smolinski


Noelle Hiam ‘15

mary & moon kate weiner Mary serves us tomatoes from her garden and black beans leftover from last night. her chicken; No eggs left to lay. Seattle summer. Mostly joy. The hens still strutting across the deep green grass; that have survived the perpetual blight. Lily remembers the old home. Batya remembers when her daughter still lived close by. In the cold night we strip naked and sink into the tub. how to be kind; how to forgive; how come crying is its own kind of healing. The moon is white curves and blue chalk I wonder if the chickens are chilly too. If we are hot water and warm blood and moon bone and summer night and black beans and chicken feed and tomatoes picked (ripe) from the vine.

Elijah Stevens ‘15