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lovechild VOLUME 1• ISSUE 1• SUMMER 2012

written work illustration fine art comics! recipes book reviews

the magical versus the mundane

editor’s letter Summer always seems to be a mystifying season to me. Where winter is all about finding warmth and comfort from the cold, summer days are bright and hot, leading into long summer nights (check out Clap Your Hands p. 4, and Too Soon Went the Moon p. 9). It is a time for dreaming and adventuring. I always find myself thinking things like, “Let’s do it, it’s summer after all” or “I’ve always wanted to do this, and this summer I will”. Maybe it is simply because summer’s never stopped being summer break, that odd time of year between grades, when everything and nothing happens. A great yawning gap between busy school schedules that was all yours to fill up with things to do, whether it be relearning how to ride your bike (p. 6), making yummy sandwiches or fresh lemon squares (pp. 8 and 10), or taking the time to read a book (Recommended Reading on p.14 can help with that). Now it’s not quite the same, if not in school then I’m working. But it’s still never lost its New Year’s-esque quality of rebirth: write a book, travel the globe, fall in love, get lost in the woods. Summer seems to be a time full of possibilities. The nights are never over till you say they’re over. It is both magical and mundane, strange, and wondrous. We hope to capture a little bit of that in this issue of lovechild, and share some great work between friends. Cheers,

Katherine Diemert











cover illustration: Lynn Scurfield this page: Katherine Diemert back cover illustration: Celeste Pimm



THE IMAGE OF SUMMER is no longer a sun-filled escape from the rest of the year. It is no longer the image of children playing in the street or a group of teenagers riding their bikes around town. Summer is now spent hovering in front of a computer screen checking the countless social media sites and websites the Internet has to offer. Instead of going to the beach, why not look at pictures of a beach on Tumblr? Instead of swimming at the local pool, why not read statuses on Facebook about others who have gone swimming? And if all that doesn’t suit you, why not read the millions of tweets on Twitter about summer, rather than enjoying your own? Yes, many of us have joined the work force and thus spend many hours of our summer slaving away for minimum wage. So why do so many of us spend our precious spare time on the Internet? In a recent study, the Globe and Mail reported that Canadians spend a whopping 45 hours a month surfing the Internet, more than any other country in the world. As well, according to Statistics Canada, eight out of 10 Canadian households have access to the Internet, which is sure to increase over the coming years. Needless to say, the Internet is hard to avoid, even if you want to. And it’s not just computers we have to worry about; there are now home computers, laptops and mobile devices that all have Internet connectivity. Even when you’re around town, so many restaurants and public places now offer free wireless Internet. It is almost impossible to get through an average day without being confronted by the Internet. Yes, the Internet has helped our society grow and become more informed that ever before. But like most good things, they are only good in moderation. In a world that is continuously evolving into a more technological savvy place, perhaps the old image of summer is gone, replaced by a new Internet-based image. Instead of an old-fashioned in person conversation, perhaps the future will be filled with Skype conversations instead. Or instead of hanging out with friends at a local park, maybe the future is messaging friends on Facebook without leaving the comfort of your own home. But things don’t have to change if we don’t want them to. Everything is a choice. So instead of heading for your computer each day, go outside. I think we all need a little fresh air. Alanna Rice


Illustration by Lynn Scurfield



IF I HAD TO PICK A WORD to describe the streets of Hamilton at night, ‘magical’ would definitely not be it. There are many things that can be said, some positive and many negative, but right now I am leaning towards just ‘shifty’.   You see, safety at night, or at least my perception of safety at night, seems to vary judging upon the season. In the middle of winter, the cold leaves the streets dead even at eleven o’ clock, obviously making every single person I see a guaranteed serial killer/robber/ crazy rapist/horror movie monster, while the summer sees the nighttime streets far more populated–safety in numbers. Fall and spring are in-betweens, of course, temperatures vary and the nights vary with them.   I guess it’s just hard to look for magic when you have to keep looking over your shoulder.   The sun setting does little to drop the temperature, so today there are people out and about. We have the suspicious-looking men with grey beards and bottle cap glasses who look like they belong as a guest-star on Criminal Minds, but we have some more mild types loitering about as well. People out for late-night jogs, for a trip to the 24 hour convenience store, walking home from the bars or whatever social activities that go on during the summer, so on and so forth. All the women are walking home together in groups of three or four and great job ladies, why didn’t I think of that? Human traffic moves towards me at a sluggish rate and when they pass, they all seem to disappear down side streets. There is empty, open space behind me when I look over my shoulder. Looking forward again and seeing other people off in the distance makes me feel better, so I focus on that instead. My anxiety is kept at a manageable level as I walk and I am able to entertain the possibility that, hey, maybe that old woman walking towards me isn’t a serial-killing-sex-crime-committing-walletstealing psychopath. Paranoia, under check. Continue on.   The old woman walks past me, all is well. A pair of women pass by me a minute later as I approach a bridge, their conversation barely audible with my headphones in. When I reach the bridge, though, a low rumble of a train on the tracks breaks through the barrier of sound and catches my attention. When I pause my music I hear the hiss of steam rising. I can’t quite place my motives–it just feels like the right thing to do. I stop and watch the train go by. I hold onto the fence with one hand and lean forward, peering through the chain links.   The strange thing is that when I look down and watch it pass, I can barely even see it. There are no street lamps over here and with the ground below blacker than the night sky, the boxcars rolling by blend right in as if I am watching a ghost pass through. There is only noise here. The fence rattles, the wheels rumble, the boxcars wobble and squeak from side to side, and the fading voices of the women down the street have disappeared completely. I don’t turn to look, but I know I am alone again. The bar crowd is over four blocks away, the North end of the street is lonely as usual, and the bridge that runs parallel to this one a couple blocks away is empty as well. I let myself close my eyes, just for a few seconds, and while I’m not really a hundred percent sure that the Lincoln Park Rapist isn’t going to sneak up behind me and snatch me up, I am confident enough to focus only on the sound of the train.   I am calm. Peace has never particularly been my thing, not when my anxiety runs endless loops in my brain and never shuts the hell up, but I am calm. This is weird. This is really fucking weird, actually. I am now only seventy percent sure that I’m not about to be kidnapped, but I force myself to count to five–slowly, counting Mississippis instead of potatoes, thank you very much–and breathe deep before I open my eyes again. 4

  Except this time I am not alone.   In all fairness, my company isn’t really company because they are on the parallel bridge some thirty feet away but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re directly across from me and shuffling across the bridge at a turtle-like speed. Their street is a dead-end and dead-end streets are probably the best place ever to murder someone so I guess that’s why the municipal government decided it was a good idea to put a street lamp in there, yet it takes a lot longer than it should for me to remember that they probably can’t even see me over here.   Does that make me the creepy one? Yes, no, possibly, although I would like to add that I would much rather be the creeper than the creep-ee. I find myself extremely thankful to be standing in the shadows because this person continues to take their sweet, sweet time in getting across the bridge, shuffling and swaying as they go. 
If you expected my first thought to be rational, you clearly haven’t been paying attention. The right answer is probably a physical disability or an elderly person or just a strung-out drug user, but the streets are dark and the train is rolling away and taking with it the only sound I could concentrate on, so the right answer and the obvious answer are not the same thing.   Obvious answer is, of course, zombies.   I can’t move. My lungs have taken a little hiatus and I can’t breathe either. My heart is beating overtime in my chest and resembles that UNCE UNCE UNCE UNCE dance music in gay clubs. It only takes a few seconds to realise that I’m psyching myself up for no good reason, but the time between thinking oh shit zombies and wait, what feels excruciatingly slow when it’s happening because for just a moment I have dropped all my good sense and skepticism and absolutely anything is possible. In fiction, time standing still has always been portrayed as a magical and romantic thing, while in reality it is more of a mentally ill thing.   In the end, I keep on walking. Nothing in particular snaps me out of it and brings me back to reality, I just remember that functioning members of society don’t believe in zombies, so I stand up straight and continue on. I look down the next street to see if the person has made it that far and nothing greets me but an empty block with stretches of darkness where the street lamps can’t reach. I speedwalk home. 
It is only midnight when I make it through the front door. My mother asks me how my night was, I tell her it was good. It’s a relatively honest, if not mundane statement.   Saw some cool art shows, I tell her. Had dinner, bought some nice fabric, hung around, had a nice time– I don’t add that I definitely didn’t see a zombie but I feel like she can sense the empty space there when my sentence ends prematurely. She doesn’t mention it.   I lock the doors and move upstairs, changing into my pajamas and getting ready to go to sleep. Before I turn the lights off, I look at the baseball bat that is laid down next to my bed and wonder if I’ll ever have to use it. I am back to being mundane, though, and a mundane person does not spare excessive thought towards zombie attacks so I let it go. When I switch off the lights, the darkness here is not frightening like it was out there.   Once, just once though, sometime in the middle of the night, I reach out and touch the baseball bat with just a little bit of sleepy suspicion. If we were to take statements on the potential zombie apocalypse for any reason, let it be known that I might be ready for it.  Maybe.   Hypothetically speaking. I roll over and go back to sleep. - Anna M.

“Stay back–I’ll defend you!” Evelyn Kelch


Bike Etiquette Why there is no good reason you shouldn’t be riding your bike With summer and its signature good weather well on its way, we’ve noticed a definite rise in the number of people out on their bicycles. And why not? The birds are singing, the sun is shining, and not only are the spandex-clad roadies out, but so are the opportunistic casual cyclists. There is in fact no reason you shouldn’t be out on your bike right now–bicycles are wonderful in that you need only yourself to power them–the act of which is certainly more simple than figuring out your car’s decked-out dashboard. Futhermore, they don’t cost anything to ride, and are so versatile that you can go pretty much anywhere on them. They are, as it’s been said before, an invention that grants us freedom. That being said, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Yes, there are crashes and injuries, inopportune flat tires and chains that spontaneously fly off, but one of the main reasons people don’t ride in the city is because of the traffic. If we’re worried about it while in a car, then we’re even more so when up against giant SUVs while on a bike. While there’s plenty of widely known rules for driving safely and even as a pedestrian, it’s a bit foggier when it comes to bicycling. So how do cyclists do it? To answer this question, we asked Kevin Hazzard, fellow coworker at Domestique Café, located in Dundas, Ontario. His interest in cycling began while he was young, when he went with his school to see a cycling race. Currently, he’s been cycling for over seven years, both professionally and recreationally, in road-racing and cyclo-crossing. We asked him what proper ‘bike etiquette’ would consist of, and he explained how to not to be a total ass while riding:

DON’T RIDE ON THE SIDEWALKS The common fear of traffic forces a lot of us onto the sidewalk, but this is a no-no–and sometimes even illegal. Not only does it jeopardize the safety of and make for angry pedestrians, but also cars aren’t expecting a fast-moving object to come whizzing around a corner and across the street. Little kids do it–real men ride on the road!

RULES OF THE ROAD That being said, how does one survive while riding on the road? The simple answer is to obey the rules of it. You are, as Kevin puts it, “another vehicle on the road”, so you should act that way. This means going the right way down one-way streets, 6

stopping at stop signs–or at least checking there aren’t any other vehicles before crossing–as well as at lit intersections. According to Kevin, a lot of cyclists make the mistake of either barreling through and ignoring it, or sticking to the right even when you want to go straight through. This ties in with the next point–

STICKING TO THE RIGHT As previously stated, you are essentially another vehicle on the road. But not all of us are able (or necessarily willing) to travel over 50 km/h. If you are travelling at the same speed of cars, you are fully able to remain in the centre of the lane. If not, you’re a slow-moving vehicle, so you should stick to the righthand side to allow others to pass you. You should be as far to the right as any parked cars, but not beyond; don’t swerve in and out.That being said, you won’t always be on the right-hand side of the road, and this often applies when there are multiple lanes at an intersection. If you are going straight or turning left, you should always be in the lane that does so–not in the righthand lane. Just imagine, if you wanted to turn left but are to the right of a car in that lane that driver won’t be expecting you to suddenly veer into them. That being said, you should also use –

HAND SIGNS These are especially useful to let everyone know where you’re going, so that they can act accordingly.While there are multiple variations, generally speaking they go like this; turning left is pointing your arm straight out to the left, when turning right you hold your left arm up at a right-angle, or alternatively point your right arm to the right, and if you’re stopping or slowing your left arm is pointed out and to the ground at a right angle.

LOOKING THE PART If you’re into that kind of thing, sure, go for the spandex shorts and jerseys and the fancy wrap-around water bottles. But it certainly isn’t necessary. Use your common sense and dress for both the weather and the predicted length of your ride. It is a good idea to wear flat shoes that won’t slip off. And if you so choose, a helmet. When we asked Kevin about helmets he got this funny look on his face and tried to explain why he neither wears nor believes in them–and before you gasp and shake your head in

Illustration by Katherine Diemert

disapproval (like we did), give him a chance to explain. Helmets only go as far as protecting your head, and if you’re involved in a severe enough crash to crack your skull, the rest of you will be just as open to injury as your head. Secondly, if you’re hit by a car you’re much more likely to impact your torso rather than your head. In his experiences with crashing, Kevin found helmets didn’t help. Some people make the mistake of putting on a helmet and believing that they’re impervious to any injury, when in reality they’re as safe as they would be minus a helmet. That’s why being aware of what’s going on around you is the best thing you can do. But depending upon the type of riding your doing, the conditions, and how confident you are on your

bicycle, you may find you feel more comfortable wearing a helmet. Currently there isn’t a law in Ontario that forces you to wear a helmet while riding a bike. So it’s your choice. There are many, many studies done that give results supporting both sides of the argument, but in the end it’s up to you, and what you feel is right. As blogger and cyclist Bike Snob says, above all you shouldn’t let it stop you from riding. - Katherine Diemert



Concocted and Illustrated by Kirstie Vanwyk and Katherine Diemert

for the



The Gourmet

The Veggie

Lemon Squares

Written and Illustrated by Carina M.R.S.



1 2 3

For the crust: mix together the butter, 1 1/3 cups flour and ¼ cup sugar with a fork until crumbly. Press into an 8 inch square pan and bake for 20 minutes. Crust will look white– do not brown!

¼ cup white sugar

Combine the eggs, ¾ cup sugar, 2 tablespoons flour, baking powder and lemon juice in a blender. Blend until well mixed. Pour over prebaked crust.

¼ teaspoon baking powder


Return to oven and bake an additional 20 minutes. Remove from oven and sprinkle with powdered sugar. Let bars cool before cutting.


Preheat oven to 350˚F (180˚C )

½ cup butter, softened 1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour


FOR LEMON TOP: ¾ cup white sugar 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour 3 ½ tablespoons lemon juice 2 eggs




One of the most deeply moving things about Murakami’s stories are the blurred lines between reality and dreams. In the most pragmatic settings, the most unbelievable emotions come to life and After Dark’s noir-like backdrop brings to front the stories of characters that are inexplicably interwoven yet share this acute sense of alien-ness. Mari, the seeming protagonist, struggles with her relationship with her sister Eri who spends her entire time in the book in a dream state. Throw in the marvellous mix of a chinese prostitute abused by a seemingly hard-working and straightlaced man with a sadistic disconnect inside his own psyche as well as Takahashi, a trombone player with whom Mari shares a night of Denny’s and blues music.

The Golden Mean ANNABEL LYON


For the better half of this summer I’ve been daydreaming about the beauty of Ancient Greek literature. The Golden Mean, a little more historically feasible than The Song of Achilles, focuses on the life of Aristotle, the philosopher. She writes about his teachings and interactions with one of his students– who eventually brings the old world together under his reign– Alexander the Great. Lyon writes with a stark frankness and earthy boldness that takes the romance out of Aristotle and Alexander’s life, casting light upon the faults and weaknesses of the two greatest men of Classical Greece with a sense of amazement and wonder along with goosebumps to match.

Over all, I gave this book 4 stars out of 5 for the incredible atmosphere that Murakami built with his words. It’s like a journey through your most intense and innate dream where you emerge only to realize you have spent the last 5 hours reading.

I would highly recommend this book for anyone interested in any part of Classical Greek literature or history. 5 out of 5!

The Song of Achilles MADELINE MILLER


The Iliad is one of the oldest documents of western literature and to this day, it doesn’t cease to ignite our imagination. Madeline Miller brings to us the fictional account of the underdog of the Iliad– the man whose glory we forgot over the years: Patroclus. The Song of Achilles builds on the friendship between Achilles and Patroclus, of which Homer gives us an idea of the strength of it’s bond and love as they fight a war that neither of them want. Achilles’ role in this book goes beyond simply the ethereal warrior that Homer portrays him to be in the Iliad; Miller humanizes Achilles and writes about his boyhood that he shares with Patroclus. From the perspective of Patroclus, Achilles’ philtatos hetairos, most beloved companion by far, we understand a little more about the driving motivation behind one of the most legendary warriors of all time. Pushing aside my own love for everything that the Iliad offers, I give this book a 5 out of 5. It’s just such a beautiful book!




Graham Roumeiu is an illustrator that I came across while volunteering at Sheridan College’s Illustrationism symposium. Absolutely taken in by his narrative style, I purchased his book Me Write Book, a comedic autobiography of Bigfoot. Although his whimsically childish illustrations might be indicative of a younger audience, Roumeiu’s sense of humour definitely has a darker side. Although only 96 pages long, this book is definitely a great addition to anyone who would appreciate some dark, silly humour in their library. I rate this book a 3 out of 5 for it’s ingenuity and laughs!

Illustration by Lynn Scurfield



STRIPS by Keely Brown

Illustration by Keely Brown

CONTRIBUTERS LYNN SCURFIELD is an 18 year old girl currently going into her second year of illustration at Sheridan College. ALANNA RICE, 19, is from the valley town of Dundas, Ontario. She is currently studying Journalism at Niagara College and can be reached at CELESTE PIMM is a student, coffee lover, and active participant in silence. She dabbles in prose, paint, and dark synths. MELISSA CHUNG is a 2nd year illustrator at Sheridan College. Loves to eat, read, and daydream about places she has never visited and people that she has never met.Visit her space on the inter webs at KATHERINE DIEMERT is in her second year of Illustration at Sheridan College. She likes good food and thinks sloths are hilarious. She is also the editor and designer of lovechild magazine.

ANNA M. is a legal-in-some-countries writer residing in Southern Ontario, who in her spare time enjoys reading, writing, and fighting crime. And not being afraid of zombies. EVELYN KELCH is a visual artist who thinks way too much and does way too little. She wonders about what the point is and whether it matters. She seeks further distractions, levity, and amusing anecdotes. Send any to CARINA M. R. S. The easily intimidated Carina has a huge affinity for all things cute. No matter what, you can always make her smile with a cheesy pun... or a sweet treat. KEELY BROWN was born and raised by a pack of frost wolves. They taught him how to draw. That’s why his drawings aren’t very good. CHARLIT FLORIANO is a young illustrator who strives to tell stories that both evoke and entertain. She is currently attending Sheridan College for Illustration and can be reached at

Lovechild was intended as a fun, not-for-profit medium to present and share work, as well as discuss and collaborate between friends. Lovechild and its contributers are based in cities in Southern Ontario, Canada, including Dundas, Hamilton, Oakville and Toronto. You can find more at lovechildmag., or contact us as All work is copyright of the original artist and has been used with their permission. 17

Lovechild Magazine Issue 1  

Including works from local young artists, writers, bakers, and bikers, lovechild is a collection of illustrations, comics, articles, recipes...

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