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Artifice Magazine (2022)

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ARTI ARTI F I C E FICE

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F I C E FICE

Artifice 2022

Leaders

Maura Beatty '22

Sarah Kim '22

Members

Isabella White '22

Eloise Khouzami '24

Ada Morris '24

Caitlin Rapalski '24

Zara Allen '25

Amanda Bavar '25

Allison Kelly '25

Anna Livermore '25

Grace Miller '25

Avery Park '25

Sammy Randell '25

Elyse Scott '25

Isabella Sodhi '25

Catherine Trapeni '25

Zara Allen '25

Chrystina Bennett '22

Katie Jones '23

The Conscientious Dancer

Ellie Byram '22

Gracefully, yet passionately stepping from side to side, one foot behind the other, her arm slowly rose into the air. Her head shifted from left to right following the lead of her feet. As the beat of the drum picked up, so did her movements. But, her dancing didn’t stop at her arms, like some of the other dancers did. Unlike them, she carried her movements all the way up to her fingertips and all the way down to her toes. As her wrists tenderly rotated, her fingers twirled gently accompanying them. She stepped precisely on the balls of her feet to the thump of the drum every couple of beats. Her movements matched the music almost perfectly.

She was performing the dance with more diligence and attention to detail than the other students which enhanced the movements and communicated the story better. By watching her I was able to truly get an understanding for the story that the dance an

was based off of. It was an African tribal dance designed to show the voyage of the Africans from Africa to America. This specific portion of the dance was representing the middle passage of the Africans crossing over the water.

Out of the 15 dancers, hers was the story I believed. Accuracy, diligence, and precision are more than just getting the question right on a test - they have to do with work ethic, conscientiousness, and perseverance. Moreover, these adjectives affect the ways that we go about our everyday lives. Striving to be the best that we can possibly be - the best dancer, the best student, or the overall best version of ourselves, magnifies the story that we perform everyday of our lives.

Eloise Khouzami '24
Sammy Randell '25

Ava Jankowski '24

Taylor Wu '24

Artist'sNote:

Thisphotodocumentsthe OmegaProteinfishingboats thathavefailedtocomply withthecatchlimitsinthe ChesapeakeBayandare thusunderminingthehealth ofthemarineenvironment.

Morgan Kazerman '23

Anna Livermore '25 Untitled

She was much like a fish; in the way that a fish was still a fish even after she's been gutted. Even after the rusted hook has been pulled from her mouth; and after her structure has been carved out.

Even after everything that makes her a fish has been taken from her; she's still a fish.

She'll blame herself. It was her fault that she swam too close to the surface; it was her fault that she fell for the worm on the hook; it was her fault that she let him catch her. It was all her fault. The fisherman will let her believe that too.

Even after he's broken her, sold her for his own profit, and after all that he has done to make her believe she is not a fish; he'll blame her as well. Why? You might ask; because he isn't a fisherman, he's a monster.

Rayven Short '22

The Children's Place

Madeline Schettig '22

XS girl’s shirt………….......................................……….………$7.99

Girl’s sequin shoes…….…………...………………………..….$24.50

Kindergarten…………..........….………..The security of my parents.

XS girls dress…....……………....……....……………….……..$19.99

Middle school……….......................…....…………….….Imagination

S junior shorts…………..…………..………..………………....$15.89

Puberty………......……………....…The unawareness of my weight.

The period of time when I didn’t compare myself to others. The blissfulness of when I didn’t care what I looked like, how popular I was, or if my stomach was flat. The cost of becoming a woman sometimes outweighs the positives. Many people don’t mention how hard it is on a young girl's mental health to watch her body and many aspects of her life change rapidly. I became more emotional, oftentimes sad more than anything, the highs were high but the lows were

S women jeans……………………...……..……………….….$52.78

Friend groups……………………..……….Stability and confidence. lower than ever before. I remember one day in middle school, a day that I felt particularly fat, when I got home, stared at myself in the mirror, and cried. There was no provoking comment or specific incident that made me hate my body, I just did. I never had issues with confidence or even thought about my body before puberty.

Friend groups change and break up. Losing friends is the worst kind of heartbreak. You feel so alone. The lunchroom feels like a lion's den when your only friend is out sick. The lonesomeness of your room on a Friday night creates a pit in your stomach. The anger, sadness, and dreadfulness of it all boils over in the form of sobs.

****On August 25, 2018, I cried because I felt like all my friends were leaving me behind. I thought that they were all just pretending to like me because I was about to switch

Although puberty can cause you to lose imagination, a new and improved form of it may come to light…overthinking.

You could lose hometown friends and family. The security of familiar surroundings, and develop anxiety and/or depression.

Feeling the cost of everything left behind and the complete unknown of the future to come, students can possibly spiral. I am afraid that suddenly it will all be over, that there will be no going back to being a kid again, there will be no place to be a child.

*All purchases are final. No returns or exchanges* schools and they needed to let me go. They showed no signs of this, but my mind just seemed to be working against me in every way possible. That same day my friends threw me a surprise party, and I suddenly felt on top of the world.

Sarah Kim '22

Taylor Wu '24
Ava Jankowski '24

Abby Nevin '22

Elyse Scott '25

Riya Sanghavi '22

Maura Beatty '22

Morgan Kazerman '23

Maura Beatty '22

Sarah Kim '22

Linda the Salesperson Sophia Koman '23

And then there was Linda, Salesperson at Saks.

She sold luxury purses and pretty backpacks.

She worked on commission, each and every day.

A predator lurking and waiting for prey.

Her work at the store was something of an art.

She knew all the lines as she was quite smart.

Each time her plan was always the same,

Find a new victim and play the sales game.

First, she would ask, “Do you need some assistance?”

The key to the game was friendly persistence.

If the shopper touched a bag, she was ready to pounce.

She embellished the details, all she could announce.

“We just got that one in!” She would often say.

“That looks great on you and it also comes in gray!”

The compliments worked, she never lost a sale,

She stalked till they bought and never would bail.

Her behavior was fake but her sales were real,

A hunter at work, she enjoyed every meal.

If you asked her why she chose this career.

She would say “it pays the bills every year.”

Of course, this was almost the whole story,

She also liked to wear the expensive inventory.

Sadly for Linda, Covid shut down the store,

Depressed and stuck at home, she longed for much more.

The store finally reopened and Linda went back to hunt,

But no targets were there, in the back or the front.

Her hunger for sales was difficult to control.

But her trip to Las Vegas uplifted her soul.

For her annual Sale’s convention, she traveled and went.

She was excited to learn strategies and see people present.

On the day of the event, she came to the big room.

But she couldn’t find a single soul for it was moved to Zoom.

Morgan Kazerman '23

Resignation

Will Kibel '23

This never-ending strugglehow nice to have something constant. Impermanence permeates all but struggle runs like a single thread through every fiber of your life. Isn’t that reassuring? That something will last exactly as long as you do?

Isabella White '22

Abigail Kim '24

Sarah Kim '22

"rabelkinfcuddlrlope" 2022

Oven-baked Clay, Acrylic Yarn, Acrylic Paint

Aeiris Faloni '23

Solana Silverman '25, Hannah Gray '25, Owen Paterson '25

The Lion

Olivia Sheridan '22

A boy sits in the back of the stuffy classroom, baking in the hot sun that beams through the large dusty windows, surrounded by a mess of a room. The piles of art supplies, trash, and old projects encompass the workspaces. Sketches, old pieces, and random photographs mask the otherwise blank wall, each print hung crooked.

A grunt of frustration escapes the mouth of the boy, one who finds discomfort in the patience and delicacy of his work. The blade of his chisel has knocked off a larger-than-expected piece of his charcoal-colored stone, turning his once perfectly engraved silhouette of a lion, into an unrecognizable piece of rock.

The heraldic lion. The guardians of Florence. A symbol of heroism and good luck for the city it oversees. The boy sees himself as a lion, strong, sensible, and gallant. He does not let his

frustration get the better of him. Instead, he swallows his annoyance, as if he’s unfazed by the mistake, and continues to gracefully fight for a sense of control.

It’s easy to assume things of people based on the environment they are in. The boy is undistracted by the busy atmosphere, as he typically might be. Solely focused on the task at hand. Carefully chipping away at the fragile soapstone. Lost in his own work, it is easy to imagine, he is no longer just the boy you’ll find sitting in the back of the classroom. He is the powerful, courageous, and majestic guardian that protects the ones he loves. The king of all beasts. The heraldic lion.

Cate Godey '25

Melancholy Melody

Aldous Simms-Clark '22

It feels like a good time to learn a new piece. It’s never a bad idea to expand one’s repertoire. My heart’s telling me this one is good. I’m quite familiar with this one, after all I’d heard it quite a few times. Seems possible for me. We met at orientation. The beginning is always one of the hardest parts. We talk, but scarcely. The notes are few and far between, unable to form a clear melody. Like distant neighbors that simply happen to live on the same street. I’m not getting anywhere like this, at least not anywhere that I want to be.

Alright, time for a change of pace. Good music requires you put your all into it. Let’s try playing this a bit more boldly. Maybe that’s how the composer intended, maybe not. I’m not really a master in this field. I’m still learning.

........It’s going better. I think I’m getting a sense of how this is supposed to go. Listen, this is one of the best parts. We talk regularly, and the melody is clear and iconic.

regularly, and the melody is clear and iconic. We enjoy each other’s presence. It’s casual, easy, and freeing.

.....I’m not sure how this measure is supposed to sound. The once clear melody has become monotonous. We’re stuck. I’m stuck, stuck in a loop of conversation with no substance. In an attempt to break the loop, I make a guess and take a leap. Seems I played some wrong notes, as I was swiftly met with a long rest. “I just don’t see you that way”, she says. Damn…

It’s not always easy to drop a piece just like that, one that I’d invested so much time into. Each new interaction reminds me of the limbo I’ve trapped myself in. A cage of repeats where it looks like no progress can be made. Ah yes, I’ve heard about this part of the piece before. This section is labeled amica zona, or friend zone.

Oh well. An unsatisfying ending to a confusing piece. I still can’t pinpoint where my mistakes were, but I know they’re buried in there somewhere. Or maybe I’m looking for something that’s not there. Maybe this is just how the piece was meant to end.

"Cathartes Aura" 2021

Mixed Media on Plywood

Aeiris Faloni '23

Armin King '22

Nova

Caitlin Rapalski '24

“I think there's a sort of beauty in the way that stars die,”

I tell her,

Her screensaver is a shot of a supernova the last moments caught in endless, everlasting grandeur

Beautiful to its very end - the cycle of birth and decay before it collapses in, an endless void of nothing and everything where Time itself lays servant.

“It's volatile,” I tell her, fighting the world from the start to the finish but nevertheless one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen It's a fighter, just like you, just like me

Ourselves falling stars made of stardust, products of destruction and creation.

“Someday the sky will be painted with lights, some twinkling, some staying still,” I say, someday those stars won't be alone anymore someday they'll find their way home too.

Caitlin Rapalski '24

to think and to know we are not empty jars no, rather, we are filled with crumpled-up newspapers or cut-outs from magazines or dog-eared pages from old worn books or even floating commercial fortunes from manufactured cookies

Ari Bershak '25 and Leo Marks '25

Scan the QR code to watch their stop motion animation!

Special Thanks: Emily Rockefeller Karen Janiga

School Paper Express

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