Edition #3
Noreigh Zuniga
Daniel Loza Kate Schultz Emma Schultz Harriet Tyrer-Gunn Aaliyah Zaph
Scarlet Broad Jack Crowe Georgia Dorrity Lilly Fruitman George Gorbatchev
THE
STUDENT SNAPSHOT
MORDIALLOC COLLEGE
THE STUDENT SNAPSHOT
letter from the editor Daniel Loza
Welcome Readers! It has been one whirlwind of a Term, with all of the curricular and extracurricular activities running, and the eventual closure of on-site school due to the unfortunate outbreak of Covid-19. Please, everyone, stay safe—stay home, don’t have anyone over and don’t leave if you don’t need to—and we will get through this. Despite all this, we still have a stunning lineup of articles made by some of our school community’s best and brightest writers, photographers, artists and designers. So please, enjoy this collection of literary and artistic works and remember that we will get through these tough times. I think that’s enough from me, so please remember to stay safe, feel free to join our newsletter team, and without further ado…Enjoy our wonderful articles!
join the team Want to be a part of the team as a writer, photographer, artist, designer or editor? We are always looking for new recruits with a variety of ideas and new persepctives to help expand our future editions. The aim of our magazine, after all, is to provide students with a voice and influence. If you would like to be heard by the school community, you can join by emailing Jack Crowe (cro0031@ mc.vic.edu.au) or by joining the Google Classroom with the code: ul5fawn
design Front Cover: Chanelle Cardente Magazine Design: Jack Crowe, Aaliyah Zaph and Emma Schultz Page Artwork: Scarlet Broad
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MORDIALLOC COLLEGE
contents 3. Trees (ways to stop climate change)......................................Kate Schultz 5. The Problems With Going Renewable....................................George Gorbatchev 7. Rise..........................................................................................Daniel Loza 9. Around the World in 7 Weeks..................................................Lilly Fruitman 13. False Statistics, Climate Change and Misinformation........George Gorbatchev 15. Dissociation..........................................................................Jack Crowe 17. The White Saviour Complex..................................................Aaliyah Zaph 20. Acceptance for Everyone......................................................Georgia Dorrity 21. Music Review........................................................................Jack Crowe 24. Artwork.................................................................................Harriet Tyrer-Gunn 25. Photography.........................................................................Noreigh Zuniga 27. The Craven Man...................................................................Lilly Fruitman
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trees -
two easy ways to stop climate change by Kate Schultz
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You could be a part of the change for climate change - Kate Schultz
New Record! - 66 million Trees planted in 12 hours in India! There were 1.5 million people from India who volunteered to plant around 45 seeds each. They did this as part of a record breaking environmental campaign. This wasn’t their first campaign, but they only planted (a still impressive) 50 million trees last time. More countries need to start fighting Climate Change like India, because more and more people (currently a billion!) need housing and land. Shirvraj Singh Chouhan, the India’s state chief minister said ‘The world talks of global warming and climate change, but Madhya Pradesh has taken a concrete step to deal with it.’ He also said ‘By planting trees, we may not be serving Madhya Pradesh but the world at large!’
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easy option one!
Just plant trees! It’s very simple! You can have a fun activity involving watering and watching your tree grow as well as the amazing feeling of knowing you have done something amazing for this world! Well done!
easy option two!
I did keep in mind not everybody has that time to plant and nurture a tree, but if you have some spare change all it takes is $3 to plant a tree. You can choose to pay as much, or as little as you’d like, but at least you know you have helped the whole entire world grow and breathe! Well done!
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One trillion trees are re-grown, saved from loss and better protected around the world by 2050. -A Trillion Trees
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the problems with going renewable written by George Gorbatchev
The beginning of the British Industrial Revolution in the 1700s marked a new era of technology. First, the steam engine was invented in 1712, allowing for more efficient methods of production to be developed; it also played a huge part in the colonization of the modern world, reducing naval travel times by weeks and even months. However, human technological progress didn't stop there--a new, more efficient method of power generation was needed, sparking the creation of the internal combustion engine. Created in 1872, it remains to this day, the most powerful and efficient method of creating and applying power in our modern world. But since the first methods of effective power generation were patented, people began seeing the negative impacts of petrol-based power generation in the long run--our blue dot would eventually run out of these precious, but limited fossil fuels. So this created an issue: what other methods of power generation can humanity adopt to slingshot itself into the future? And are any of our current methods capable of providing the vast amounts of electrical power our growing and evolving world needs?
Recently, Elon Musk announced that not switching to renewable energy will push Earth into the “dark ages,” which sparked a flourish of media attention supporting his argument and creating outrage in the general public. This lead to protests against parliaments to fight climate change, and pleas for more sustainable and renewable energy, but is his idea of changing the planet’s primary source of power from fossil to renewable even possible? Well, although at first glance this seems totally achievable, this would require an industry of 10,000 coal
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plants alone to completely shut down, creating a never seen before economical collapse. This would also require an unrealistic amount of power to be generated through what at this stage are very weak sources of electricity, such as wind farms and solar panel arrays. Not to mention, building so many renewable plants would cause more damage to the environment than the issue of climate change itself… As it currently stands, it's undeniable that wind and solar energy are nowhere near as efficient or effective as what other alternatives can offer. So if these sources don't have a high enough output of wattage, then what do we have to work with? Hydroelectric Dams use the gravitational potential energy of a river to force water through a turbine, spinning a generator, outputting nearly as much electricity as nuclear fission stations. Although these huge structures create such vast amounts of energy, their main problem lies within their equally large size. The construction of a hydroelectric dam that generates enough power for Melbourne to support its electrical needs would require around 6,000,000 tonnes of steel-reinforced concrete. I don't suppose Elon Musk has found a way to create enough physical resources to power even a city as small as Melbourne? Apart from being impractical in its physical construction, a dam of that size would generate as much as 2000km2 of flooding. In a country as flat as Australia this would not only be impractical, but also dangerous, as these floods could lead to environmental devastation. The construction of the Yacyreta Dam in Paraguay created an environmental disaster of unparalleled proportions. Flooding caused an outbreak of Malaria and yellow fever caused by a spike in mosquito populations; previously drinkable water became
polluted beyond reasonable filtration, displacing 80 000 people out of their homes by 1980. Is this what we want to see happen to the cities we live in today? However, if our current renewable sources of energy do not suffice in providing the “clean” energy they promise, what options for exploitation do we have before we resort to shutting down the world’s gas and oil industries to prevent our total and “inevitable” annihilation?
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We are running the most dangerous experiment in history right now, which is to see how much carbon dioxide the atmosphere can handle before there is an environmental catastrophe
The planet and its surrounding universe contain means of power generation never before explored, due to past restrictions in technology, but our current scientific and technological progress allows for much to be desired. Never before has humanity turned to ocean currents for energy, despite the oceans containing more energy than any amount of fossil fuels in the world. Nor have we turned to the infinite depths of space and its endlessly orbiting objects for this energy we so value. So although our planet isn’t in a state of crisis like the world’s media outlets lead us to believe, some of our scientific and technological progress over the course of 400,000 years of our existence needs to focus on finding a way to power our industries, unborn generations and our entire race as a whole, into the future of innovation; a future that has been dreamt of by many, but still failed to manifest. Although individually not many of us will have the chance to make a global impact on the future of humanity, in fact only very few of us will, we should try to remember about the, not looming, but slowly creeping issue of sustainability in the industry of electricity production. We must always be trying and trying our best to give our future generations, members of humanity, a chance at a bright future.
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rise -
a creative response by Daniel Loza
Dark. Still. Tranquil. The stars, somehow slowly ebbing away, were fading— gradually vacating the wide sky, leaving in their stead a single spanning dark mass. A slab of black-blue, an intermediate of charcoal and azure broken up by now fleeting specks of white, stretched as far as could be seen, filling the heavens over the barren and dry red dirt and amber sands, and far past the distant horizon. Peace, if for only a moment, seemed to touch every part of every thing under the expanse of the calm and restful sky. All was unmoving, at rest; All was asleep, untouched by the worries and troubles of its surroundings. All was silent. Hushed.
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Gone were all the winds and the rustles; as if captured by some sort of strange and wonderful magic, everything held perfectly still—a record, which had been spinning for all of time, had somehow, finally, ceased to turn. None were the whispers of the leaves, the chirps of the birds— even the crashing of waves had at some point drifted and died away. An inexplicably loud, but calm quiet lay over the land. Motionless. A deep navy was now crawling over the sky, as a no longer crashing wave would have washed to shore. The ancient, but alien magic was approaching its peak. Gradually and subtly, the no longer black sky lightened, steadily getting ever closer to the pale and gentle cerulean it strived to be. Becoming a light shade of blue seemed to be the only thing on its mind. Blue! The sky seemed to say, I want to be blue! But not yet could it be satisfied.
But it was…
Silent. Gone were the birds, to sing and crow; the bees, to buzz and hum. Gone were the people, who caused it all, the mess, the death and the end. The world, forever empty.
It was now, had the birds still been there, that they would have begun filling the previously void atmosphere with their sweet whistles and song—that the rooster would crow and the crow would hark. Now, that the bees would begin their buzzing as they started collecting nectar for their queens and hives. Now, that people would be waking, or beginning their commute, or returning home from a night shift or night out. Now, that All would rise and shine.
The sky, now nearly finished and sated with its task of being blue, beckoned and yearned for the sun to come and appraise its work, begging for its warm yellow light to shower the vast and empty lands beneath it. Not yet, the sun seemed to whisper. And even the sky went impatiently and restlessly still. Everything paused, waiting. Had the wind been rustling, or the ocean’s waves been swelling, they surely would have stopped to witness the total and serene calm. A previously unimaginable anticipatory stillness would have put a stop to All.
Bright! Shimmering and flaming, Gold rose on a new world with no one as its witness. Heat, immense and dry, swept across the cracked, soulless dirt. A world long dead, abandoned, untouched; unmoving. Still and silent. Calm and quiet. And so, forever, it would stay.
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around the world in 7 weeks -
First stop: Verrena, Italy
travel photography captured by Lilly Fruitman
Tel Aviv in Israel, for example. Beautiful yet unfortunate. I admire how wholesome and how prepared the people are if something were to happen, but it makes me feel sad for how lucky I am. A friend of the woman we stayed with had a daughter named Uvall. She has brain damage for having been born during a massive missile strike. The kids who were younger than me acted like they were older than me. Seeing these places made me discover how some countries share their beauty and how some decide not to, as well as how the little things you hold onto matter or don’t. Of course, you too would throw out a shirt you excessively wore it on a plane, but if you go minimal, it’ll make all the difference. You’ll realise how lucky you are to have even the basic necessities and how happy you’ll be just to think about the people once in a while. It’s something we all need nowadays.
Where to go if Hawaii isn’t available
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My brother showing off his wine tasting skills
SO. MANY.
My room from top to bottom was filled with things that I would never lay a finger on. A box of old school books, several shirts that don’t fit, childhood toys that I since discovered was home to three house spiders. All of these things don’t matter to me anymore because I didn’t see any of this on my trip. No kid I saw in Italy was carrying a phone. Or a barbie. No toy, nothing. Coming back home, I discovered how fortunate some of us are in the world. Having things that others don’t have. Or maybe the opposite. Everywhere I went on this trip, the people I met – they had their unique land, each other and that’s it. It was fascinating watching how people lived their day-to-day lives and what they considered was home to them.
Where we stayed
These are images of my trip to Europe over the Christmas break. There will be no boasting, even though it was an amazing experience. I will explain the change I went through since returning. My family and I had spent a seven-week trip flying all around the Pacific and finished up in Canada, and after coming home 6 tiny Airbnb stays and 11 flights later, I looked around and stopped. My house suddenly seemed bigger. The living room looked like a tornado went through it, which is exactly how I didn’t see it when we left. My room was a lot messier than I remembered. That weekend, I didn’t even unpack – I threw stuff out.
Next stop: Tel Aviv, Israel
The nice Israeli family we stayed with
CATS.
B-E-A-Utifully freezing!
Christmas Time: Paris, France
Parisian artists just chilling I highly recommend going to churches around Christmas
better than garlic bread
There is no debate – French onion soup is
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Finally a break from the cold: Florida, USA
Happy 2020!
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My grandfather’s place
As usual‌ watching movies
We asked our waiter at Outback Steakhouse to take a picture of us. This is what he gave us. We gave him a generous tip ;)
Last stop: Toronto, Canada The most delicious welcome ever Leaving for Melbourne in the morning
Could not feel my fingers
seeing snow
First time
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false statistics, climate change and misinformation what we should actually be focusing on this very moment written by George Gorbatchev
“People are getting caught up in the wrong solution� - Forrest Fleischman 13
At this point in time, we are all forced to accept climate change, as being of an opposing opinion stigmatises you as “oblivious” and “selfish”. Due to this, more and more people calling themselves environmentalists have decided to take action seeing that the world’s leading governments are not accomplishing the standards set by the environmental community. These activists have started setting up organisations such as GreenPeace, Ecosia and A Trillion Trees, pledging that all works and funding goes towards planting trees, preserving and restoring the environment, or recycling plastic waste to apparently save our planet. However, their very statements are false, or in most cases exaggerated to create panic, forcing millions of unsuspecting individuals to donate for an unnecessary cause, allowing the companies to make a healthy profit. The planet cannot be saved, climate change is inevitable any way you put things, and all these organisations are trying to prevent it, a helpless cry of stupidity. The earth has gone through warming and cooling cycles over the course of its 4 billion year existence, but there are things we should be focusing on in less specific fields of climate activism compared to the areas we are currently occupied by; planting trees to reduce greenhouse gases and recycling plastics to save aquatic life. We as humans should embrace what we have encountered this century, and find a solution to minimize the effects of this issue rather than helplessly attempting to prevent it; not by playing on the emotions of humans, but the scientific discoveries that have led us to the creation of technological wonders. The first problem that needs addressing are these self proclaimed organisations attempting to save earth through voluntary funding, however this open and seemingly innocent industry has problems. Although no information is available on whether or not these organisations are actually social enterprises, they sure are not willing to give anyone the chance to expose them. When doing my research, I had come across several websites that would be blocked about a month later. Sure, you may think this could be completely irrelevant, and sure, it may have been. However, even on Ecosia’s official webpage, they share a graph of their financial distribution, and things are not as bright as they claim it to be. Ecosia claims its total profit for July 2019 was just over 1.5 million USD. How much would you expect a “social enterprise” to invest in what they pledge? Well according to the official reports published by Ecosia, July 2019 saw an investment of just over 815,000 dollars into tree planting. The rest was spread out between advertising, reserves and operational costs, a subheading of which contained salaries - a sum of 116,000 dollars - going towards this. At first glance everything seems perfectly normal even though Ecosia claims to be entirely non-profit, making the fact that a volunteer operated organisation includes salaries as a separate expense to operational costs just a bit questionable. The same has been noted for other tree planting organisations such as Trillion Trees, another organisation whose activity has attracted negative attention in the past. The fact that these self-proclaimed social enterprises distribute a vast amount of money towards profit based fields is not only concerning, but in some retrospect, needs to be met with legal action as this is essentially false marketing and fraud, propagandizing
the minds of young individuals into supporting their campaigns even though they may not be putting their pledge of saving the planet before making a healthy chunk of profit. Even though the vast majority of these organisations don’t act up on profit, those who do, are usually much larger and have more influence over the issue, leading the minds of young environmentalists off the trail, making a large profit and only doing a small percentage of what is promised through their advertising. We humans have one more industry to rely on in saving not just the species, but also the entirety of life as we know it. Science is astonishing, it has been the source of human development in all of our industries, be it psychological discoveries leading to human development, or marvels of engineering, providing us with the power of the automobile or computer. Science has been the very source of technological progress, and in terms of environmentalism science, has graced us with things no social enterprises have managed to achieve. Without any debate, you can say with certainty that it’s the work of science that brought us the solar cell, wind turbine and electric motor, and not the work of displeased environmentalists running social enterprises to plant trees. Also, would planting trees actually help “prevent” climate change? Climate change is a natural event fueled by Earth’s natural cycle, planting trees would not have any impact on the event except postpone it by a few years or so. In doing this, we would be exercising what our previous generations have done so famously, putting pressure on future societies to resolve the issue. In trusting science, we could actually have a chance to minimize not just the human impacts on the environment, but the effects of the upcoming event that is climate change. So what should you believe then? You could A) provide private organisations with funding to have a small impact on the broad issue of climate change, solving relatively small scale issues in comparison to the broader topics such as deforestation being a major aspect of their advertising, allowing them to make a healthy profit off your donations, or B) you could provide funding to science based organisations, whose work and motivation is based at finding a way to achieve realistic goals in the near future, rather than plan 15, even 20 years into the future knowing these goals are impossible to achieve. Out of the 2 outlined choices, for me and the millions of people working in the science industry every day, the answer is simple.
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dissociation
written by Jack Crowe
A daydreamer, a thinker, a stoic person with a robotic response - if lucky when he’s caught off guard in the void, without a thought while time runs unhanded In pursuit of their craft, the tasteless confectioner merely makes a masterpiece or a mindless man but leaves an empty void that becomes fulfilled by the haze outside the window It’s like the wind on the surface of water unconsciously transforming the shape into a figure of man or woman. Do I have mother nature to blame or the angels to even ask where I find myself blind and trapped in a selectively frozen time? It’s like sleeping awake waiting for the unnoticed paralysis to end when someone calls my name, and I return content.
Dissociation is a mental process of disconnecting from one's thoughts, feelings, memories or sense of identity.
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the problem with world challenge and the
WHITE SAVIOUR COMPLEX discussion by Aaliyah Zaph
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this article is by no means dismissing the great work provided by volunteers - it is, however, posing a discussion into intentions and the effects these seemingly good-natured actions actually have on people in these countries.
imagine... You wake up one morning with five missed calls and twenty unread text messages from your best friend. Sighing confusedly, you call her back. She answers immediately. ‘My job interview starts in five minutes and I need to catch the train but I forgot my Myki and I have no money and there’s three PSO’s and I don’t know what to do,’ she cries, words spilling out of mouth between distressed hiccups. She then tells you she’s at the station a two-minute walk from your house. You might quickly get up, drop off a Myki, roll your eyes at her stupidity and get home. What you wouldn’t do, however, is make your crying, miserable friend sit there and pose with different Snapchat filters on while you try and get the best angle. You wouldn’t post on social media about how lucky she is to have a friend as dedicated and kind as you. You wouldn’t take advantage of her suffering to make yourself look better. That’s the thing: there’s nothing wrong with wanting to help others. However, when doing what you personally think is best to help others simultaneously promotes ideologies that ultimately oppress them, a problem starts to form. This is where the white saviour complex comes in.
The white saviour complex is the term referring to when white people (primarily celebrities) who act to help disadvantaged non-white people, but depending on context can be perceived as selfserving as in trying to make themselves look charitable and generous. When these white people pose with and praise these children they’re supposedly helping, there is an element of privilege present. Many celebrities have been accused of treating these children like accessories. Recently, Stacey Dooley’s work with Comic Relief was criticised due to her problematic Instagram post featuring her holding an African child, captioned ‘OBSESSED.’ You wouldn’t pose with your friend and her Myki, so why now? An Instagram account (@barbiesaviour) mocked these celebrities’ shallow posts in their blunt, satirical captions (found online). This account also posed the argument that’s been quietly yet consistently present for the past few years: Africa isn’t just this isolated, barren wasteland, thriving with poverty. There are various other narratives that are conveniently ignored by the press, who prefer to focus on the amazing generosity of these celebrities.
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‘We never said no to white people, we just know you shouldn’t be the hero of the story” Olivia Alasao
Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Adichie pointed out the lack of knowledge about the reality of Africa during an interview with a French novelist who quite blindly asked whether or not there were libraries in Africa. Adichie replied, ‘I think it reflects very poorly on French people that you have to ask me that question.’ She also pointed out that many Africans do live a contemporary life with phones, internet and other technology. When the media, and white volunteers, focus solely on the poverty-stricken, remote areas of Africa they’re actually poorly representing Africa as an entirety.
Olivia Alaso and Kelsey Nielsen began the No White Saviours (NWS) charity together as a way to address the problematic ways charity work was carried out in Africa. They also noted the racism that is often accidentally perpetuated through the arrival of white volunteers. When asked about the presence of racism in relation to volunteer work, Neilson said: ‘We see it in restaurants, when a white person is served first while a black person receives crappy services. We see it in the way organisations pay black workers less.’
‘White people need to know that young and passionate is not a qualification.’ Nielsen admitted that her views on evangelists have changed drastically since meeting Alaso and collaborating on NWS. Recounting her arrival in Uganda, aged 23, with her parents as a development worker, Nielsen also mentioned her creation of the Abide Family Center which she now redacts and regrets creating. 19
‘White people need to know that young and passionate is not a qualification,’ Nielsen said. ‘Africa is a playground and experimental ground for so many. Because of our white privilege, we get away with so much.’ That being said, the duo believes that rejecting aid from all-white providers is very unnecessary. Instead, they want there to be an emphasis on the work by local Africans to fix these issues, as well as recognise that Africans are not helpless, weak and entirely dependent on white people’s aid. She highlighted the following: ‘We are trying to give our children a better education. We are developing our countries. We need aid but it must not come with strings attached. We are saying that if you want to help, first listen to us and provide what we need – not what you think we need.’
acceptance for everyone written by Georgia Dorrity
Have you ever thought about how others may feel from something you have said? Or thought about an action you have done that might have hurt someone else? Did you think about the consequences that may occur or have an impact on them? These might be comments on what they look like, what they like to eat, what they do in their spare time and most importantly, who they are. We all have a different personality and shouldn’t be judged for it. We all do things differently, and that’s okay.
How can I be a respectful person?
1. Don’t talk about people you don’t like behind their backs 2. Accept your friends for who they are (don’t judge them) 3. Keep your thoughts to yourself unless - think before you say
True friends vs fake friends
Our true friends play an important role in our lives. A true friend is someone who is respectful, loyal and always by their friends’ side. Some people are very fortunate to have a group of friends who they can always spend time with whereas others may only have one or two. Have you ever seen someone alone or potentially having problems with another person? Go up to them and show some respect by giving them a smile and/or compliment. That makes you a true friend!
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Fake friends are the opposite. They are the people who judge their friends regarding the things they do or the person they are. Fake friends need to know that it’s not important to be the stereotypical “cool kid”; it’s important to be a good friend rather than be someone who wants the world to revolve around them. Don’t try to be a cool kid just to impress others, just be yourself!
Accepting one another
Everyone has a different personality. You don’t necessarily have to like or be friends with everyone, but you do need to respect everyone for who they are. If you just don’t like someone, keep your opinions to yourself. If you find that someone is being rude to you or judging you, just assume they haven’t learnt much about respect or acceptance. Make sure you hang out with those who are kind, loyal and respectful.
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The lead track, Queendom, pulls the listener with a swaying, pulsing rhythm. As an ode of protection and belonging, Aurora states that ‘it’s about celebrating the differences in us,’ hence why the music video focuses particularly on the LGBT community, finding sanctity within her ‘Queendom’. My favourite part of the song is the pre-chorus, Aurora layering soft falsettos before transitioning into the electronic chorus of unique synths and harmonies. The most admirable thing about musicians is when they show that they take pride in their work by telling a story or adding some sort of progression throughout their music; being the first track to follow from her debut album, All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend, fans were surprised by this subtle, but indulgent change in style.
infections of a different kind AURORA’s electrifying and graceful EP that defies all music genre reviewed by Jack Crowe
Aurora Aksnes (stylised as AURORA) may be a name most musos have heard of before. Personally, I had disregarded Aurora as a musician at first, listening to one song, adding it to my playlist and moving on. However, upon the release of her 2018 project, the title of the EP immediately caught my attention. There was something particularly striking about the phrase Infections of a Different Kind that I felt I wanted to see unveil. Needless to say, this Norwegian artist left me in awe (a true inspiration) after listening to this body of work, having become a devoted Aurora fan in the process. Without giving too much away, the reason I recommend her music to fellow music enthusiasts is that she defies the genre of music itself. Though her discography contains many pop, alternative and folk-pitched pieces, she blends them with her profound and articulate lyrics along with her soothing voice. Underrated and underappreciated by many, her small (but steadily growing) fanbase has celebrated the image she’s created for herself, with people describing her as the magical ‘mother nature’ of music. It sounds impossible and confusing, but after delving into this otherworldly EP, you’ll surely be left breathless and stunned. Please note: It may be ideal to listen to the EP before reading this review to fully immerse yourself in the body of work Aurora has created.
Forgotten Love features a sweet and sentimental melody, featuring touching lyrics about losing somebody you have loved. Immediately, through the soft orchestral drums and bright piano melody in the introduction, Aurora and her producers grasp at the heart strings of the audience. The lyricism of “If I am left with a rose in my hand, let it die. It’s the beauty of forgotten love,” brings light into the chorus; Aurora commiserates for a lost lover, but celebrates the beauty of the past and the new triumph of moving on into new and deeper relationships. Not only does she write for the fans, but herself, as evident in the third verse where she sings what appears to be meaningless phrases, including the repetitions of ‘reslianna’ and ‘hungaaah’. In an interview, she states that this is her own made up language that represents the emotional ‘energy’ she wants to have when performing and listening to the song. She says that ‘it means what you need it to mean in the now,’ ensuring that she’s not restricted by a single meaning of a lyric, rather being empowered by them each time she sings. Gentle Earthquake may begin with some chilling production and haunting vocals, but after the pre-chorus, the musical production creates a sudden rise within the listener when she sings ‘like a gentle earthquake, it intensifies.’ This ode to anxiety ultimately entails the sudden changes in the atmosphere around you. However, she urges the power of love in taking over the stress and fear we might suffer. ‘All connecting love becomes a human shield’ exemplifies how the human bonding of love can overcome the challenges of life, these intensifying ‘earthquakes’ being calmed by reassurance of other people. All Is Soft Inside is one of my favourites. It took me awhile to understand the lyrics on my first listen, but after a few repeats, I noticed that Aurora uses the metaphor of having a stone exterior to notion towards her inner vulnerability. She admits that all she knows ‘lies within emotion, words remain unspoken’ to show that she lacks the strength and self-assurance to share her troubles with the people and world around her, despite being important for her mental health. With such a strong and important message, the song encourages people to be vulnerable for the benefit of their wellbeing. Before the song ends, Aurora leads the production into a beautiful outro with soaring vocals, urging the listeners to share their inner demons and troubles with the people we love.
“if i'm the world then why would I “
hurt all that is living? infections of a different kind
Following this track, It Happened Quiet tells one of the most vulnerable and confronting stories. Slowing the rhythm with a soft harp, Aurora delves into the trauma that occurs as a result of the story. Incorporating sharp plucks of the harp within the pre-chorus, her voice becomes quieter almost secretive – ‘but I know it happened quiet. So quiet’. Melodically, the chorus erupts into beauty though the lyrics depict a darker and grimmer tale of domestic violence. One of my favourite lyrics from this entire EP is ‘is the Earth coloured red as I land like a flower in the meadow,’ portraying the aggression beneath what used to be the passion of love, the victim being symbolic of something that should be appreciated but is disregarded out of cruelty. To conclude this song, she changes the lyrics of the chorus, reversing the power of the victim to be stronger and more dominant, casting the abuser out of their life. While the victim stands up for them self, Aurora still implies that there’s a sense of violence behind it, which is why (in my opinion) a male choir chants a haunting ‘love is wild’ in the outro to juxtapose the beauty of love. Again, Churchyard seems to follow the events of the previous track, the abuser trying to degrade the victim’s self-worth. The symbolism of ‘he told me I belong in a churchyard’ insults the victim by telling them to change her ideals and beliefs, the abuser unable to see the oppression they’ve caused. Considering Aurora uses personal pronouns on this track (taking the direct perspective of the victim), it seems as if she has become more confident and surer of herself, hence why this song tells of the pity she has for the abuser by having ironically corrupted morals and ideals. ‘Hate followed him gently’ demonstrates the collective condemnation of his acts from the people around him, as if revenge is being fulfilled. There’s almost satire on his insult, the victim having concluded the relationship and becoming happier while the abuser suffers the consequences of his own
actions.
Soft Universe depicts the desperate need for security and peace in one’s world, illustrating the isolation and pain that occurs within life. One of my favourite lyrics from this song is in the first line, ‘there’s ice in my water and when I drink, it cuts my tongue,’ connoting to how pain and damage is unavoidable, as if there’s an inevitability around it. I also love the lifting vocals in the chorus as they seem almost tribal, as if Aurora is summoning a new world to cherish and bond with. The final song, Infections of a Different Kind answers the questions I initially had for this project, being one of the most truly beautiful pieces of music that I have ever heard. Infections of a Different Kind, in my opinion, relates to the internal struggles and hardships of humanhood and how this deeply influences our identity and wellbeing. Throughout this EP, Aurora explores the gift of love and how it defines us for the good and the worse. With the title track, I believe she summarises all the little memories and stories embedded in her mind by celebrating them for what she has learnt and by condemning the people make the human experience a darker one; exemplary of this, she sings ‘and if there is a God, I think he can’t hear all of us,’ implying her faith in something external from the world to restore the good in humanity. Ending with the soft lyrics, ‘this is the breath, this is the breath’, there is a sense of closure in knowing that you can be secure from the ‘infections’ of the world around us, though at the same time, there is still the looming sense of vulnerability. Fortunately, Aurora continues into the next chapter of the human condition, with the sister album ‘A Different Kind of Human’, by which I would also highly recommend listening to. As a whole, these two projects are breathtaking.
ARTWORK BY
ARTWORK BY
HARRIET TYRER-GUNN
HARRIET TYRER-GUNN
photography -
appreciating candid moments and the beauty of the natural world captured by Noreigh Zuniga
candid
/’kandid/
adjective
(of a photograph of a person) taken informally, especially without the subject’s knowledge. 25
“blessed be the flood that brings forth the garden� Brenna Twohy
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‘the craven man’ -
a story written in the style of Edgar Allen Poe by Lilly Fruitman
This narrative which I am about to pen, is no jest nor a mere experience of my changed fate. This greatly afflicted me to the extent that I have been chased like a mouse into the crypt I call my home. Therefore, I have decided that hereafter, I will leave no trauma untouched, no memory untold and no screams of agony unheard. From my infancy, my heart held a soft spot for my peregrinations to the woods, neighbouring my household. Father was noted for being the collector of Jaggeree, a sweet sap that was of great value to the people in my village. I frequented there often and reminisced in its verdant beauty. Father would hack down the Jaggeree trees as I, in my stockinet, would let the gossamer wings of the butterflies flutter along my fingers and the cool stream water caress my toes. For many years, even as the seasons changed from fiery to bitter, I was never happier than when I was running after fluffy rodents and climbing the towering pine. Or at least amusingly attempting to do so. A deep love grew within me and I longed to explore further. I came across a mysterious territory of the woods. The trees seemed darker - as if the sun feared to see them. I asked Father of it and he suddenly grasped my arm, almost tremulously. He made it especially clear that I was to not make a single mark there. I still wonder what ailed him so however I quickly obeyed. It had been said that no man had set foot in there. However, as infancy became adolescence, my humanity and good-doing self had been twisted into an exceedingly arrogant phantasm. I experienced various paroxysms which were brought upon the other infants in the village, even my dear companions who had become unexplainably intolerable. It gave me such pleasure to see my opponents left broken by my strength. I’m nonplussed by these actions, even now. Disobedience became daily. I vituperated at the village people, for I was overly supercilious in my disposition. Every night, my parents were greeted by my disturbing avarice, bruises protruding from my face, marching into my bedroom with the feeling
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of victory flowing through my veins. They disapproved of my newly obtained manner and would often express their disapproval through the straw mixed walls - My son, dispose of your haughtiness or bad things will come! There is yet to be a price paid! Blasphemous boy! Sinful! EVIL! I blush for I am shamed. I discordantly ridiculed and omitted the significance in their words. They once loved me, now they despise me. I was foolish, utterly foolish. Pertinacity settled in soon after these common quarrels and I made the decision that I was to be the first man in the forbidden part of the woods. My friends continuously warned me against it and told tall tales and ancient legends as old as this land. ”Trumpery!” I vociferated, “I decline to wait for she who bore me to accede any longer and I shan’t wait for yours.” Once darkness settled in like a cloak over the heavens and my parents were deep in slumber, I crept out of the household to venture to this mysterious place. It was unbeknownst to me that this particular endeavour was going to be my last. To this day, I wish that I had changed the courses of these unfortunate events. Then I wouldn’t be filled with such a burning hatred every second of every waking hour. The fallen leaves and twigs crunched as I observed the warm candlelight of oil lamps fade. A droplet collected from the creeping mist sent a chill down my spine as though the friendly towering pine was in despair as they quietly watched me disappear into the shadows of myth. However, the growing ambition in my blood boiled. I still remember the thought in my mind from that very night: Father, your title will be long forgotten once my feet touch the cobbled stone path again. I quiver at the thought. I was wrong beyond all measures. Once I had reached the place, my confidence suddenly evaporated like steam from a Blacksmith’s welded steel. This part of the woods seemed colder and darker. I felt as though I hadn’t aged at all. That I was still an innocent fragile boy whom his fondness for the woods never ceased. To my surprise, I found myself vacillating betwixt returning to the village
and continuing. I shook my head, convinced that I was just being absurd and resumed my upright position. That was until I felt a different feeling on the sole of my boot. I looked downward and the acrid odour of the rotting corpse before me almost threw me off my feet. There were hundreds of them of all shapes and sizes, scattered across the forest floor. Twisted, mangled, an illusion of the human form. That very memory was the beginning of my Phantasmagoric episodes in later life. I still remember the salt-stinging tears filling my eyes and how I hoped they’d blur my vision - but they didn’t. The distinct thick liquid sprayed on the dandelions I once touched churned my stomach and struck fear into my heart. Never before had this feeling encountered me until this moment. My Father’s warning from my infancy played on my mind - I wasn’t the first. The aching pain of my sorrow returns whenever my memories of this night come back to me. If only I had known before then my spirit would cleanse itself of the chained demon in my soul. Then I heard an other-worldly sound, convincing my body to spin itself around. A rencontre - a dark, demonic figure was perched on a tree branch before my eyes. I knew not of what it was, all I could see was its eyes, burning into mine. It somewhat urged me to display obeisance. I squinted closely at the being. Alas! Pluto has unleashed his messengers. But what of it? ”Rara avis in terries,” (“a rare bird upon the Earth”) I muttered, aghast in its austere appearance. I saw determination in its eyes. Almost as if, I too understood its purpose. The raven had sent for me. It awaited my arrival. What horrific message has it received? I began to wonder if my customary arrogance brought myself here. Yes, the pernicious demon we dare not speak of had come for me. I felt torpid, thunderstricken, overwhelmed in trepidation. I refused to exacerbate the situation - however the raven did. It gave a violent caw. The sound tortured my ears and I willed for it to stop. Its breath didn’t run out and I was filled with the desire to garrotte the beast ‘til it did. The noise seemed to grow rapidly. Suddenly, I was waylaid by a Mare Tenebrarum (Sea of Darkness) – an army of the creatures sallied forth out of the lifeless trees and began girting above in close proximity. They squawked, they screeched, they screamed until the very sound was etched in my brain. Their daggerlike beaks and arrow-like claws swiped at my flesh until a multi-coloured matter fanned out from my veins. Whether the demoniacal wail came from my throat or the throats of the haunting monsters was unclear to me. Writhing in agony, the wretched deity stood in its place and watched in satisfaction with nary a flinch nor a blink. It was at this moment when I came to the realisation that this creature had an anomalous familiarity to myself. Its spurious qualities shined all at once like its magnetic stare. I was foredoomed, the bloody, black-hearted Behemoth staring in pleasure. The beautiful fete of nature I once knew had become an arena for immolation; a charnel for the sinned. “Curse you!” I expectorated wildly at the wicked, winged wretch. If only I could take those words back. It lunged forth, its talons somehow glinting in the darkened confinement. That was all that I saw before the right side
of my vision was snatched from me and became a crimson perforation. Within this short rapture, my legs had regained strength and carried me back to the sunlight. A stabbing pain in the ocular area of my face inspired me to retreat. I cadaverously stumbled, weakly and blindly through the shrubbery, the red substance staining my palms. The verdant colour of the forest was now black as the bird’s feathers. Whatever I lay my fingers upon erased all the loveliness I once knew. The evil has invaded my mind! My mortal self has been poisoned with the elixir of Hell. The horrid experience is ineffable, even as I pen. The trees had been relieved of their leaves and I prostrated among the cobbled surface. I saw no need to describe my preternatural incident. I trembled at the feeling of the cold stone on my cheek as the sun rose, savouring the screams of the village people above me. The thick inner liquid flooded the homes of the arachnids and, like my body, prostrated itself on the path, its warmth melting the ice as it slithered. The rumbling of my Father’s footsteps grew within seconds as he stared at the ghastly denouement before him, as if the result hardly shocked him at all, “You’ve deceived me, you wicked child!” He roared at the sky. Since then, I decline to repeat my hideous disposition nor will I become a benevolent man. As much as I yearn for palliative freedom, the raven will never release me from the curse to which it has placed upon my brow. My appearance has become pale and visibly emaciated. The army remains perched on the Mansardes, awaiting my command. Generations passed and the adolescent recruits don’t describe me fondly. Recent tales tell of the cyclops-ed raven man at the edge of the forest. According to those imaginative storytellers, I unleash the beasts at nightfall as a plan to repeat my damaged mortality upon them. Trumpery, in sooth. However, the reality of their hatred creeps from the very air they breathe. I can see even now their little, clean faces hidden behind the linen laid on their beds. The ear-piercing cries of children will cease to escape my ears as their mothers insistently steer them away from my door for they “will be sinned for all eternity”. The cries of the people will scarcely be forgotten and plague me as they lay their eyes upon the unholy spawn evinced upon the world. Nor will the echoing of my parents’ neglected words. Every night, I apologise to them in the Chapel of Rest, even when I’m aware of the insignificance. My memories of affection and praise has died with them. I sit here in isolation, betwixt these crumbling walls I dull in my presence, with nothing but a casket of Kirschenwasser as my Nepenthe and of course, the shadow of the prodigious puppet master perched by my side. Forgive me, Almighty, for I have sinned. Oh, how I long for impunity - to be manumitted – to break free from the devilish fiend. But that is not the case – I am under a terrible oath. My appearance is but a physiognomy of my true nature. I must confess in my final years on this Earth and accept this eternal punishment without redemption. The raven’s very own whispers tell me so - the gate keeper of the Underworld awaits me.
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