Miambiance Volume 34 by Miambiance

Editor’s Note

“We don’t inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.” -David Brower

The act of creation is within all of us; it follows us from generation to generation. All the works in this volume were produced by Miami Dade College Kendall Campus students and I am continuously impressed with the quality and depth of art that they have created.

With this volume I wanted to imbue a sense of the nature of change and how the progression of time affects all of us. This is the third volume of Miambiance that I have worked on, and it will be my last. These three years working on this magazine have been life changing. I have learned how to be a better leader, a better listener, and a better artist. I owe all this to the staff that have come before me, have worked with me, and the legacy I wish to leave to those to come after me.

This magazine is all the love and appreciation that our campus and students have for the arts and for the preservation of those arts. We live in interesting times where it has become easier and easier to forget what those before us have achieved, where the safety of a college campus and the safety of ideas is no longer promised. It is my hope that the coming staff can look at their predecessors’ work as a building block for the amazing magazines I am sure they will also create, and that art and ideas continue to be celebrated and protected.

Best,

“The things you do for yourself are gone when you are gone, but the things you do for others remain as your legacy.” -N. D. Kalu

Megan Carrion, Editor-in-Chief

Kiss the Ring, Lubianka Baltodano, Photography

Family Tree

Advisers

Rita Fernandez-Sterling

Tony Chirino

Megan Carrion Editor-in-Chief

Music Editors

Justin Phanitdasack

Ian Nicholson

Club President & Executive Editor

Wenderlis Guevara

Joelle Worcester

Social Media Team

Britney Oliva

Stephanie Gomez

Jennifer Silva

Salma Gonzalez Suheily Alvarez Design Team

STAFF

i. Introduction

ii. Editor’s Note

iii. Kiss the Ring by Lubianka Baltodano

iv-v. Staﬀ

3. Oasis

Neyman Canelo-Garcia

Photography

4. Break In

Jazmin Mascaro

Photography

5-6. Mountains and the People Who Climb Them

Megan Carrion Poetry

5. Bipolar

Sophia Massie

Photography

6. Las Manos Delicadas

Daniel Holt Photography

11. Mercur vs. Psyche

Crystal Ortiz, Illustration

12. Confession Room

Victoria Martinez, Poetry

13. Antillean Omen

Johnny Pena, Poetry

13. Amparo

Lorena Marrero, Photography

14. Holly G.

Cindy Mesa, Photography

Photography

8. El Sueño Nicaragüense

Kathleen Roque Montero Poetry

8. Escape Face

Dalys Gonzalez

Photography

17. Hugging Pacha Mama

Isabella Rojas Silva Photography

18. Naked Elegance

Ana Castillo

Illustration

19. Missing Person

Victoria Martinez Poetry

20. No Name

Yanira Martinez Photography

trunk

21. Amor Materno

Martina Hoyos

Photography

22. Te Veo

Josselin Ponce Gallardo Poetry

26. Black Lagoon

25. Lorena Marrero, Photography

Britney Oliva, Poetry

28. Chloe

Cayleigh Gottlieb, Photography

27. To Become Clean, Take a Shower

39. La Tapada

Martina Hoyos

Photography

40. Lights, Camera, Action

Jennifer Silva

Photography

Elizabeth Vianale, Photography

29. Glor of Womanhood

Erika Valcarcel, Photography

30. Stories from a Canvas

Victoria Martinez, Poetry

30. Magnolia

Cindy Mesa, Photography

31. Rosario

Daniel Holt, Photography

32. The Night Shift

Victoria Martinez, Poetry

32. Insane

Samir Bahsas, Photography

33-36. Featured Artist Interview

Ian Nicholson, Interviewer

Lubianka Baldonato, Photography

vi. Artist Interviews by Ian Nicholson

vii. Music & Film

viii-ix. Vol. 33 Awards

x. Colophon

xi. Special Thanks

41-48. Voices: Sapphic Longing and Panic at the End of the World

Megan Carrion Script

42. Pearls

Gabriella Gonzalez Photography

43. Morning Chores

Elizabeth Vianele

Photography

51. The Bouquet

Gabriel Perez Azocar Photo Collage

46. Men, Like Cobwebs

Yinimi Galego

Mixed Media

48. Drifting

Lorena Marrero

Photography

52. Reborn Karla Li Huang Paper Collage

53. Drink at Your Own Pace

Jennifer Silva Poetry

53. Crimson Profile

Antonio Reyes Photography

54. Nighttime Elegance

Dione Henriquez Photography

55. Ghost

Natalia Cordoba Illustration

55. Alone at Night

Victoria Martinez Poetry

56. Tea Time

Martina Hoyos

Photography

Oasis, Neyman Canelo-Garcia, Photography

Break In, Jazmin Mascaro, Photography

Mountains and the People Who Climb Them

By Megan Carrion, Poetry

I am at the base of a mountain

And slowly

My neck cranes back

And for a moment

I can see the top

And the sun glimmers at its peak

Winking at me

I am at the base of a mountain

Where it is dark and cold

And my second hand boots

Have sunk into the muck

But I turn

And I see you

Silhouetted in the dark

Bipolar, Sophia Massie, Photography

And I ask

“Will you climb this mountain with me?

All I’ve got is some hope, and some time to spare; Can you imagine how nice it’ll be?”

And you ask

“What good is hope and some time?

Someone will take them away. There is nothing up the mountain

But misery, pain, and decay.”

I try to explain how

Hope is a weapon clutched to my chest

Fingers sore and blistered from the effort

Blade jagged from over-abuse

The nicks and rust stains

A testament to every

Trial and tribulation

Every fire

Every shooting

Every catastrophe

It has held out against

I try to explain how

Time passes and passes and passes

Like the rushing river of a stream

And how swimming with it

Not against it

Truly makes you free

But you turn your head away

And I start the climb up anyways

The jagged rocks and crevices

Littered with brambles that bite at my skin

And a wind that chills me to the bone

But soon I hear some footsteps

And I know I’m not alone.

We are halfway up the mountain

The zigzagged switchback path

Cleared of rocks and bumps by the Millennia

Of mothers and fathers

And sisters and brothers

And friends and family

And neighbors and strangers

Whose feet have suffered

Marching

Pounding

Changing the very earth

To make it kinder for whoever’s next

Still difficult

Still turbulent

But, possible all the same

We are halfway up a mountain

My feet have blistered

My body is sore

But I turn and I see you

Knees cut up and

Shoulders heavy

Different ailments

But, struggling just the same

And you ask

“Will you help me up the mountain?

Can I put my hand in yours?

Can I lean against you lightly?

I can offer you no more.”

And I say

“I will climb this mountain with you. All I’ve got is hope and some time to spare. I can’t imagine the summit Without you there.”

And I try to explain how

Hope is the heat in the kitchen

That a full oven radiates

The smell of food and drinks

Made and served

A testament to

Every meal

Every party

Every holiday

Every joyous celebration

Ithas lovingly held

I try to explain how

Time passes and passes and passes

Like the wind blowing in your hair

And how catching it is foolish

But feeling it

Makes you feel free.

And you turn your head towards me

When I take your hand in mine

And we ache and we bleed

And we cry and we scream

But we climb up anyways.

We are at the top of the mountain

And we watch the sun set

Blanketed in its soft warmth

The skypainted in a million colors

And the stars peeping out

And we sit

Hands sweaty but clasped

Seeing all of our struggles and Pitfalls below

Millions of miles away

And I say

“Thank you for climbing this mountain with me.”

And you say “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Las Manos Delicadas, Daniel Holt, Photography

Hand Me Down, Neyman Canelo-Garcia, Photography

El Sueño Nicaragüense

By Kathleen Roque Montero, Poetry

La libertad es algo que fue proveído a mi por suerte

La libertad en mi tierra, Nicaragua, no se ve

Y aun así cuando yo nací en el país de “liberty” de “dignity” de “money”

No se sentía así.

Yo no veía como vivir fuera de mi tierra “made me more free.”

Life Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness has never been my reality.

En el país de mis raíces las cadenas se ven en cada niño vendiendo por los semáforos

En cada niña embarazada a los doce y en cada casa donde no hay comida.

Pero los Estados Unidos, no es tierra de libertad si no de cadenas invisibles que nos mantienen en fila por el “money”

pero por lo menos tenemos la ilusión de “liberty”.

Escape Face, Dalys Gonzalez, Photography

Mercury vs. Psyche, Crystal Ortiz, Charcoal & Graphite, 14 x 17 in.

Confession Room

By Victoria Martinez, Poetry

i am not religious, but sometimes i pray

i pray that you’ll stay

Long enough for me to not be scared

Long enough that i no longer pray

To the inevitable wrath of my self-constructed, morally corrupted ideology of love.

i pray but you are my vice

You are my greed

My gluttony

My anger

My lust

Yet i am purified in the intricacies of our consummation.

In you i reincarnate

i pray that one day i will be enough

It has always been you over me

Dangling like a cloud, like your lips, like your eyes

Interlocked like our legs, like our tongues, like our bodiesbut never our hands;

i have yet to know what your fingers feel like where they’d matter most

Against my own, against my face, against my heart

Their grasp is not one i can claim

i pray for better

Do i deserve it? When i’ve already convinced myself that this is perfect?

You are perfect

We are sacred

It is you i worship

But

I pray that you feel I pray that you lament

I pray that you suffer

I pray that you kneel at my feet

my self righteousness dissolves at the sight of you

i pray that i wake up

And no longer do you exist

Nor would my pain, nor would my faith

With you it shall go

And i’ll pray you resurrect until it all withers into oblivion into nothingness

Until then i continue to pray

For i cannot help myself

For i cannot resist

For i am not religious but you have engraved into me your impermeable facade

For in you i have found devotion

For in you i have found religion

For in you i have found god

Antillean Omen

By Johnny Peña, Poetry

The lie will not survive, the people will arise, the truth won’t be denied.

The demise of tyrants nears, we will shed no tears, we will harbor no fear.

The link that was shattered shall be restored, and those who lost sons shall be consoled. The gold that was stolen shall be reclaimed, and those who cracked the whip shall wither in shame.

The chains of those who have spoken shall be broken, and those who have slept shall be awoken. The people will sing songs of this liberation… and all shall come to fight for our new free nation.

Amparo, Lorena Marrero, Photography

Holly G., Cindy Mesa, Photography

Hugging Pacha Mama, Isabella Rojas Silva, Photography

Naked Elegance, Ana Castillo, Pencil, 18 x 24 in.

Missing Person

By Victoria Martinez, Poetry

I find it quite ironic how I still look for you in every corner of a room in every cloud of my gloom in every road of my rearview I glance and look for you. in every scene of a romance in every floor where I dance in every quote of a book in every person I mistook for someone who I could love how I loved you. in every lonely reflection in every sexual discretion in every song that I hear in every drop of my tears in every stone that I turn

every time my heart burns in every word that I write I still think that I might find you.

I look for you in what fills me oh how it kills me to see you in the poems that you never read, to look for you in the words i wish i had said.

maybe one day I’ll find you “it was always us,” I’d say but maybe one day I’ll see how nonsensical that is. I’ll even find it ironic as I’ve just about forgotten exactly what it is that you look like.

No Name, Yanira Martinez, Photography

Amor Materno, Martina Hoyos, Photography

Te Veo

By Josselin Ponce Gallardo, Poetry

Te veo.

Cada día solo puedo observar y contemplar lo dañada que estas.

Se que sufres.

Y es por mí.

Te he hecho daño cada día durante años, Y no he podido pedirte perdón, ni tan solo en una ocasión.

Te debilitas cada día, sabiendo que no te podrás volver a levantar. Y es por mí.

Veo a mi alrededor y entiendo que arrepentirme, no basta.

Veo que lamentarme, sufrir o incluso investigar del tema, no traerá de vuelta a tu hermosa y cálida tierra. Pero lo que mas me duele, es que cada día veo cómo te debilitas más.

Y es por mí.

Lamento ser el culpable de tu destrucción.

Lamento ser aquel que solo observa y no hace nada para cuidarte. Lamento tocar tu tierra, y lastimarte, en lugar de ayudarte.

Lamento ser aquel que busca solución a mis problemas, pero no a los tuyos.

Y es que vaya, cuan egoísta he sido por pensar en mí, antes que ti.

Te veo,

Claro que te veo.

Cada vez entiendo que por más cansada que esté, mi cansancio no se compara al tuyo.

Veo tus cambios.

Veo que cada día tienes más fiebre.

Y es por mí.

Te pido perdón hoy, mañana y siempre por el daño creado.

Por no encontrar solución aún a tu problema.

Y por no esforzarme en pensar en uno.

Te pido perdón.

Espero que, con mi voz,

Hoy puedas sanar.

Espero que puedas ser brillante y feliz, sabiendo que lo intenté.

Te deseo y te desearé lo mejor siempre.

Luna, Lorena Marrero, Photography

Black Lagoon, Cayleigh Gottlieb, Photography

To Become Clean, Take a Shower

By Britney Oliva, Poetry

Like abandoned gum between balcony railings

I find no fun in our pool party at the lake

And our knees now damp, muddy

From which sinking, from which slipping

Into such stupid soil below me

Are rude, no longer gripping, childlike

And like a dog that can’t swim

And like swelling water into my fingers

These windowsill shampoo bottles die with me in the shower

Because panting and so deep heaving they say, “We can’t remove this mud. I’m so, so sorry. We can’t do this; we can’t remove this mud.”

Lakebottom mud that swallows itself into my drain pipes

Strangled with threads of your loved, kissed, and brushed hair

And I hide behind melting shower curtains

As it becomes hell hollow in my bathtub

And I remember I never drowned in the lake

Like it was never, but like, it had never burned me

I tell Mom it had invited me

These bloated bugs lining my stomach, this bitter murky spit

It has drenched my balcony, my shower

It is rotting my fence, it is killing my yard

It has made my soil stupid, stupid, stupid

I was sixteen; I was sixteen

Chloe, Elizabeth Vianale, Photography

Glory of Womanhood, Erika Valcarcel, Photography

Stories from a Canvas

By Victoria Martinez, Poetry

So quickly you drew your attention to a canvas used and faded you’d stroke her with a redemption she so hopelessly anticipated you’d want to start from scratch you brought colors from your past and tainted her rosy hue with your melancholy blue.

And with your paints all so rancid, your brush had stopped - fell flaccid you washed away with it in the faucet left her disregarded in your closet where she shines amongst your skeletons, unfinished, purple, and bruised.

Magnolia, Cindy Mesa, Photography

Rosario, Daniel Holt, Photography

The Night Shift

By Victoria Martinez, Poetry

for it’s the language of your lips that breathe against mine interlinked at the hips as our bodies combine in a matrimonial jest going back and forth we’re harmonious lest into one we will morph

but were the sun to rise and i were to turn i’d be left with the lies and the unspoken words

from your dilated eyes that fed me your feelings on the night i let you under my inviting and unassuming now emptied sheets

Insane, Samir Bahsas, Photography

Featured Artist Interview

by Ian Nicholson

Every year, ACCESS Disability Services at Miami Dade College Kendall Campus hosts the ACCESS Art Exhibit, where students submit their artworks to be displayed in celebration of Disability History and Awareness Week. On October 25, 2023, Jacob Chili won 1st place with his unique and intriguing textile pieces.

Chili created this work by painting T-shirts with bleach to depict the progression of schizophrenia through face portraiture.

Shirts

by Jacob Chili

Photography by Lubianka Baltodano

I’m Ian, and I’m here for the Miambiance team. Today we’re interviewing Chili, or… what would you like to call yourself?

JACOB CHILI: I’ll go by Chili. First name Jacob.

Oh, okay. There we go. Chili designed these crazy art pieces on shirts. I got one on right now. I can’t lie. It’s a crazy design.

Chili: Yeah, man, thank you, man. Thank you.

No, it’s crazy. I like it. So, the ﬁrst question I got for you is, what inspires you to create art?

Chili: I’ve always looked around at the world and everyone else is always making things... Art is kind of a way that I show myself and my humane side of being on this Earth with everyone. I’m just really drawn to getting myself out there towards everyone.

Got you, got you. So, what would you say is the message that you want to transmit through your art?

Chili: Well, for the ACCESS show, actually, this one was for a disability, schizophrenia. And it’s considered a disability once it gets to a stage where you can’t work anymore. So I wanted to show the progression of schizophrenia through the shirts, and that’s why the one that you have on now is crazy in the back. That’s the last stage. So I was kind of raising awareness towards that, but my main goal through art is just to show people that you can do anything, man.

Chili: So, my mom actually messed up one of my shirts by putting bleach on it. Yeah. And I was like, it’s detrimental, but then I saw potential in it. I thought, you know what, maybe I can manipulate this in a way where it could look good. And so I took that shirt and I started bleaching more. And then that really got me into designing shirts now. So that’s what I’m going for.

Trust your hand with what you want to create.

Got you. That’s what’s up. Do you have a favorite out of any of the shirts that you’ve made so far? Or out of the sample pieces?

Chili: Actually, there’s one that I have at home right now. It’s got a dog on the back. And I wear it and I go around telling people like, yo, this is the dog in me. Yeah, no, I love that shirt. I love that shirt, but that’s my favorite sample piece.

What would you say your art means to you?

Chili:

Hmm, that’s an interesting question. I would say I don’t know. It’s a way to kind of grow myself. It’s very therapeutic in the way that I practice it because, when I’m there, it’s just me, my thoughts and my tools. So it’s like free therapy sessions with myself. I get to really figure out what it is that I’m struggling in that moment, or get things out, express them. It’s... yeah, I guess therapy is the best way I could put it.

Do you have any piece of advice that has helped you or might help somebody else when creating art?

So, the way you bleach the shirts, it’s a really interesting process. Do you want to explain your method?

Chili: It’s just not to worry. One thing that I’ve really gathered over the years of doing art is just be relaxed, you know, trust your hand with what you want to create. Even if it doesn’t look good, you know, everything is just practice. So I don’t look at things as completed projects all the time, but rather a way to always learn and get better. Repetition is the biggest way to learn.

You could say that’s true for a lot of things. I make music, and that definitely applies. I have so many unfinished songs, unfinished beats, but it’s the same thing… You’re learning, man.

Chili: Yeah, just learning and practice. I’m just learning what works for me and what doesn’t.

Exactly, yeah, trying different techniques, just combining everything that you’ve created, everything that you’ve gathered over your course of creating this art, bro. Just put it into practice.

Chili: That’s what’s up.

Can’t be scared.

Chili: Ooh, that’s a good point. You can’t be scared.

You can’t be. You gotta take that step. And then, once you get that momentum, trust the process. But yeah, thanks Chili. Again, I’m with the Miambiance team. My name is Ian and I hope you guys enjoyed this interview.

La Tapada, Martina Hoyos, Photography

Lights, Camera, Action; Jennifer Silva, Photography

Voices: Sapphic Longing and Panic at the End of the World

By Megan Carrion, Script

This script is a continuation of Scene 1 of Voices , which is featured in Miambiance Volume 33.

Cory: Lipstick lesbian, the oldest of the group, very practical. Has short hair. Always starts the game. They/them or she/her pronouns. Plays the Mom.

Jay: Butch lesbian, long hair. He/him pronouns. The youngest but the most mature. Always ends the game. Is in love with Erica, it’s mutual. Plays the Dad.

Lilith: Transgender woman, bisexual, bratty. Makes the game more dramatic. She/her pronouns. Has known Cory for years. Plays the Daughter.

Erica: They/them pronouns. Non-binary character. Makes the game more fun. Speaks no Spanish. Plays the Son.

The characters will always switch names, even mid-conversation for comedic effect. They are all Latino. The play takes place in the 24-hour period leading up to and during a hurricane. There are soundbites of real-life Hurricane Irma news coverage included in the play. The family scenes should be heavily dramatized with lights and sounds while the scenes with the actual family should be left more on their own. The whole play takes place in South Florida.

SCENE 2: DEPRESSION

(Cory and Jay are hanging out together. It’s just them there. Both are very drunk. The storm is growing stronger. The news is playing on a TV in the background.)

News Reporter:

The monster storm will tear through Florida’s west ern coast.Whiplash winds over 100 miles an hour, torrential rain, tornadoes and a dangerous storm surge still to come. The storm has already decimated the Caribbean, strengthening again overnight.

Jay: Cory, stop staring at the news, you’ll give yourself brain rot.

Cory: Good.

Jay: What’s that about?

Cory: I feel lonely. I just want someone to love me, you know?

Jay: I’ll love you.

Cory: How much?

Jay: As much as you’ll let me.

Cory: And when you get tired?

Jay: I’m always tired. Kind of the expert around these parts.

Cory: Will you love me the way you love Erica?

Jay: Cory…

Pearls, Gabriella Gonzalez, Photography

Morning Chores, Elizabeth Vianele, Photography

Cory: We’ve known each other for so long and who knows how long we’ll be stuck in here. I’ve been going crazy since I haven’t gone to work in days.

Jay: Cory.

Cory: So wouldn’t this be lovely? Something new and exciting! We can play mommy and daddy all day and-

Jay: Cory!

Cory: What?

Jay: Hey, we’re family, and I love you, I really do—

Cory: (interrupting) Then what’s stopping us? If it could be just you and me.

Jay: Is this about you and Lilith?

Cory: That’s silly! I’m talking about you and me!

Jay: If you would just talk to her and tell her your uncomfortable with her seeing-

Cory: I don’t have to talk to her, I’m talking to you.

Jay: Cory, I’m not a marriage counselor, you can’t—

Cory: Erica never says they love you. Not out loud.

Jay: Cory Esperanza Sanchez Restrepo ten cuidado con qué me dices.

Cory: Nunca la he escuchado. No te molesta?

Jay: Cory, we’re about to be stuck in this apartment together for an indefinite amount of time. Por favor-

Cory: Cobarde.

Jay: Carajo! The last time someone told me they loved me in a romantic capacity my father hit me so hard he broke my jaw. He said, “Que dios me perdone.”

Cory: Jay, I—

Jay: I was 15 and afraid and unlike you my Quinceañera theme wasn’t Cinderella.

Cory: Jay, I’m so sorry I didn’t-

Jay: I asked Erica not to say it to me, ok? Now drop it.

Cory: Jay—

(Lilith enters carrying a huge cardboard box.)

Lilith: The DVD player is in here but I refuse to set it up.

Jay: I can do it.

Lilith: What a strong, handsome young man.

Cory: I’ll help.

Jay: I’ve got it.

(Erica enters holding a single DVD box.)

Erica: Guys, I found Mamma Mia 2!

(Cory is cooking. Jay is reading a book. Lilith and Erica are playing cards together. Lilith is losing by a lot.)

Lilith: This hurts more than my orchiectomy.

Erica: Yeah, that took balls.

Lilith: Just know that you are always one bad quip away from me strangling you to death.

Cory: Deja el niño! Pobrecito; te trata de enseñar cómo jugar su jueguito y le gritas.

Lilith: Pero mami!

Jay: No le grites a tu mamá! Que falta de respeto en esta casa... En Cuba—

Lilith: Ay papi, no hables de Cuba.

Jay: En Cuba no había esta falta de respeto. Ustedes no tienen ninguna idea qué difícil era!

Erica: I believe you, Papi.

Jay: Ay mi hijo. Mi único amor. Tu vas a ser el hombre de esta casa algun dia. Cada familia necesita un hombre fuerte para guiarla.

Cory: ¿Alberto quieres un Cafecito con tu comida? Marcelo?

Erica: ¡Gracias mami!

Jay: Claro que sí, mujer. Veinticinco años casados, por dios, y todavia no me conoces.

Lilith: Y yo, mami?

Cory: Ay hija, no necesitas más azúcar. Ahorita ni cabes en tus jeans y yo no te voy a comprar unos nuevos. Seria un gasto de dinero.

Lilith: Mami!

Cory: Ay hija, tu sabes que importante es estar flaca. ¿Cómo te vas a casar gorda?

Jay: Tiene razón tu madre.

Lilith: Ya no soporto esta familia! Me voy a cambiar mi nombre a Stacy y casar me con un gringo que no le importa si hablo ingles o no!

Jay: Aw, not a name change. It’s like that?

Cory: Oh, but the name Lilith is so lovely!

Lilith: Thanks!

Lilith/Erica/Jay: I picked it out myself!

Men, Like Cobwebs; Yinimi Galego Acrylic Paint, String, and Beads on Canvas, 14 x 11 in.

SCENE 4: HURRICANE

(All characters are lounging about like big wildcats. They are all very high or very drunk. They get increasingly feral as the scene progresses.)

Cory: The savannah is nice today.

Erica: You could even say it’s… purrfect.

(Lilith bats at Erica.)

Lilith: Why haven’t we fed you to the hyenas yet?

Jay: Leave your brother alone; he’s going to be King of this place one day. Everything the light touches is his.

Lilith: And the rest of us?

Cory: We are happy to hunt for all the food and take care of all the cubs and fight to keep each other safe.

Jay: Forever and ever.

Erica: Yeah, we’re a pride.

(Lilith smacks Erica on the back of the head.)

Lilith: We’re going to die! We can’t even afford to evacuate and now the whole fucking bottom half of the state is gonna get torn up to shit! And my acrylics are all going to snap off and I’m going to LOSE IT!

Cory: Having claws isn’t even that important! We’re a peaceful pride. What could you need them for?

Jay: We have food and shelter. Our life on the plains is secure.

Lilith: And when we run out of wildebeests? What then?!

Erica: Then we eat the pride member who complains the most.

(Lightning strikes and the windows rattle. The storm has come in.)

Lilith: You don’t have the guts.

Cory: Everything has to be fine!

Lilith: It won’t be!

Jay: Stop yelling at her!

Lilith: Stop yelling at me!

Erica: This is why you’re getting eaten before any one else!

Lilith: Not if I fucking get you first!

Cory: What is wrong with you?!

(They all start yelling at each other. Their voices overlap with their regular voices as the fight crescendos.)

Jay: You always do this! Why do you always have to act like it’s the end of the world and freak everyone out?!

Erica: Why is everything always such a big deal? We can’t stop acting like hysterical assholes for a hurricane?!

Lilith: Death is coming and you’re all trying to wish it away like this is some god damn fairytale! It’s not!

Cory: I just want this place to be clean and quiet for five fucking minutes but everywhere I turn you’ve all left shit!

(They all start fighting physically with each other. A wine bottle gets smashed. Someone accidentally turns up the volume on the TV, blaring the news report.)

News Reporter:

The monster storm will tear through Florida’s west coast. Whiplash winds over 100 miles an hour, torrential rain, tornadoes and a dangerous storm surge still to come. The storm has already decimated the Caribbean, strengthening again overnight. The category four juggernaut larger than the state of Florida. Nearly seven million were told to evacuate across three states. Already hundreds of thousands without power. Massive size, ferocious intensity, at least 24 hours of danger ahead.

Reporter (cont’d):

The eyewall, where the winds strike hardest, is over the Florida Keys. You see those winds whipping right there are not the only danger. Already, we’ve seen tornadoes reported across South Florida. That danger will continue throughout the day with the entire west coast of Florida facing potential deadly walls of water.

(The power cuts out. The girls scream. There’s a huge crack of thunder. It is finally silent.)

Jay: Is everyone ok?

Lilith: I’m fine. There’s glass everywhere.

Erica: I’m ok too.

Cory: I cut my hand.

Lilith: Shit! Are you ok? Are you bleeding?

Cory: Yeah.

Jay: Let’s get you a bandaid. Erica, get a flashlight, Lilith, sweep up the glass. Hang tight Cory.

(Everyone does their task. Cory watches them. They all work together silently. The storm outside finally quiets.)

Cory: I love you guys. With all my heart.

(The group hugs each other tightly. The storm continues.) END.

Drifting, Lorena Marrero, Photography

TheBouquet,GabrielPerezAzocar PhotoCollage,11.8x11.8in.

Reborn, Karla Li Huang, Paper

Collage, 8 x 10 in.

Drink at Your Own Pace

By Jennifer Silva, Poetry

A bottle a dozen you change your pace, I feel the Earth’s change

A shift in demeanor, no longer at a distance you’re this close to me

Placement of hands no longer seem kind, you’re all over me in a complete disguise

The reach around brings me closer not where I want to be You toss me around while others are watching, so let me go

The night is over I don’t want to feel anymore

Crimson Profile, Antonio Reyes, Photography

Ghost, Natalia Cordoba, Pencil and Paper, 14 x 17 in.

Alone at Night

By Victoria Martinez, Poetry

If all has been done and all has been said then explain the words that cross your head you know, the ones so foreboding, they might just be right:

“Don’t look into that room when you’re alone at night.”

Should nearby be the corridor in which temptation is bred

What is to say my darkness won’t follow you to bed

And find your mind open when your eyes are shut tight.

You should have closed the door into that room

Where I wait for you at night.

Take a peak:

What would you hear and what would you see?

If it’s ghosts you’re afraid of then be mortified of me.

For yes, I am a ghost, I am everything you fled

I am the ghost of what you ran from, what you had left for dead

In the night not so gentle as you once may have read

In the night that houses what you most dread

You find I am your past: made of moonlight

And I’ll consume you in my corner

If you were to look

Into that room

When you’re

Alone

At night.

Tea Time, Martina Hoyos, Photography

ARTIST INTERVIEWS

by Ian Nicholson

ACCESS Art Exhibition 1st Place Winner

Jacob Chili

Speak Your Mind 1st Place Winner

El Sueño Nicaragü ense

Kathleen Roque Montero

Speak Your Mind 2nd Place Winner

Mountains and the People Who Climb Them

Megan Carrion

MUSIC FILM

The Difference

Carson

The Neighborhood

The Feeling

Carson

So Alone

Reptile the Lizard

Corojo Roto

Johnny Peña

Miambiance Volume 33 Awards

Associated Collegiate Press (ACP)

Atlanta 23: Fall National College Media Convention October 29 to November 2, 2023 at the Hyatt Regency Downtown in Atlanta, GA:

• Best of Collegiate Design, Division I-II and 2-year:

• Use of Theme 1st Place,

• Table of Contents 2nd Place

• Best Literary Magazine 2nd Place

• Best of Show Award 2nd Place

Florida College System Publications Association (FCSPA) and Awards Banquet on Friday, November 17, 2023 at Daytona State College in Daytona, FL, Miambiance Vol. 33 won a plethora of awards:

General Excellence 1

- Magazines - Division B

•

Photo Individual 1 - “Just the Tip” by Diego Franco, p. 3

• Design 1

Ana Perozo

• Contents Pages 1

• Poem 2

• 3

Conference

Place Tie - Overall Design by Megan Carrion, Diego Franco, Hector Zumbado, and

Place - Design by Diego Franco, pp. XVI-XVII

- “Llorandole a La Vida” by Josselin Ponce Gallardo, p. 33

Poetry Magazine 3 - “The Perfect Dinner” by Giselle Lopez, p. 1; “Lengua Pesada” by Megan Carrion, p. 9; and “Radiance” by Kathleen Roque Montero, p. 49.

• Cover 3

- Overall Design and Image by Diego Franco and Lubianka Baltonado

• Photography 3

Place - “First Fish in Space” by Erica Valcarcel, pp. 48-49 and “Psalm 150.6” by Neyman Canelo-Garcia, pp. 35-36

•

Artwork Individual 3 - “Don’t Ask Me to Remember” by Kenza Iddir, p. 5

Inner Circle Award (awarded to students with three or more awards) Diego Franco

100th Annual Spring Convention,

NYC24: Spring National College Media Convention, March 13-17, 2024 at the Marriott Marquis in New York, NY:

Program

Miambiance Editorial Policy

Miambiance is published once a year by students currently enrolled in credit courses at Miami Dade College Kendall Campus. Submissions to the magazine are accepted only from students attending the Kendall Campus except in the case of collegewide contests. Miambiance’s mission is to provide a creative outlet for writers attending classes at Kendall Campus. Visual art students who wish to publish their photographs, illustrations and graphics are also published in Miambiance.

All submissions must be attached to the proper submission form available through https://sharknet.mdc.edu/organization/ miambiancekendall campus, and a copy must be sent through the miambiance@gmail.com. Submissions are logged and stripped of identifying information before judging to ensure neutral, non-biased selection. All rights, including e-rights, are reserved. Copyright for individual works both audio and print revert to the authors and artists upon publication. Opinions expressed by contributors do not necessarily reflect those of the editors or general staff.

Physical copies of Miambiance are available free of charge throughout Miami Dade College Kendall Campus, and Digital copies can be accessed on our website: www.mdc.edu/miambiance/

Colophon

The 34th annual edition of Miambiance was designed using Windows computers with OS Windows 10, and Mac computers with OS Sonoma 14. Cover design by Suheily Alvarez. The software used in this production includes all of the following Adobe Creative Cloud Applications: Photoshop, Illustrator, and Indesign. Also, used Canva Pro and Adobe Stock. Volume 34 is printed on #100 Felt Cover and #100 Gloss Text by PF Solutions: A Print Farm Company.

Board of Trustees

Michael Bileca

Chair, Miami Dade College District Board of Trustees

Nicole Washington

Vice Chair, Miami Dade College District Board of Trustees

Dr. Anay Abraham

Roberto Alonso

Maria Bosque Blanco

Marcell Felipe

Ismare Monreal

Miami Dade College is an equal access/equal opportunity institution, which does not discriminate on the basis of race, gender, color, disability, national origin, marital status, religion, age or veteran’s status. Contact the office of equal opportunity programs/ADA cordinator at (305) 237- 0269 for information.