Page 1


Permission to publish works appearing in The Olivetree Review is given by their creators through a license. All copyright is owned by the original authors. Submissions cannot be returned. Fall 2010, No. 48 This magazine is published using Hunter College student activity fees. For more information, visit us at www.theolivetreereview.com, or e-mail us at olivetreereview@gmail.com. The Olivetree Review CUNY Hunter 695 Park Avenue Thomas Hunter 212 New York, NY 10065 Cover Art: Rouge Kriztille Junio


Managing Editor Senior Fiction/Non-Fiction Editors Senior Poetry Editor Senior Art Editor Publicity Manager Design Manager Treasurer Art Editors

Fiction/Non-Fiction Editors

Poetry Editors

Victoria Sharoyan

Staff

Shakti Castro & Salvatore G. Conte Rebecca R. Kish Megan Marino Jessica Taghap Nora Milman Malvina Shishmanian Soorya Deepak Angela Dunne Earl Kinloch Rebecca R. Kish Nora Milman Finn Quigley Connie Salvayon Victoria Sharoyan Malvina Shishmanian Allegra Starobin Melissa Williams Nolan Bohorquez Benjamin Corman Angela Dunne Tess Duran Seelai Karzai Esther Ko Stella Milnes Alvin Molina Andrew Quijije Emmanuel Sanchez Alexandra Shytsman Lynn Thomas Angela Dunne Esther Ko Steven Necroto Billy Pedlow Adam Pizzo Crystal Rivera Victoria Sharoyan Melissa Williams


Art

7 9 10 12 16 20 21 22 23 24 26 28 30 31 34 35 43

Stairway Victoria Sharoyan

Church at the Fortaleza Joann Olivo

good morning sunshine Nora Milman

Professor Edwardo Alvarado Jennifer Jade Yeung

It’s a Crazed Goat! Patsy Chen

25 Hours Alexander Puz

Bleu

Kriztille Junio

hospital visit recollected Jennifer Jade Yeung

window text

Rebecca R. Kish

stale monarch Rebecca R. Kish

Piraguas

Alexander Puz

Conrad

Alexander Puz

Remnants

Victoria Sharoyan

Caafé

Jon Michael Anzalone

Lycoris Skin

Zoreen Paderanga

Rouge

Kriztille Junio

Astoria Park Carlos Guzman


Fiction

13 Gesundheit

Benjamin Corman

38 Flash Fiction Contest Feature The Grandfather’s Funeral Nolan Bohorquez

Poetry

8 The Anointing: Inspired by James Baldwin’s If Beale Street Could Talk Jhenelle Robinson

11 harold, northeast; then north Alexandra Russo

17 Accurséd Progenitor −Endgame, Beckett Valerie Ross

25 Stepmother Valerie Ross

29 Bon Appétit Valerie Ross

32 Cynic Glory

Hafsa Muhammad

36 Sunburn

Connie Salvayon

6 Managing Editor’s Note 45 Contributors


The Olivetree Review Dear Reader,

Managing Editor’s Note

Thank you for picking up Issue 48 of The Olivetree Review! For nearly three decades, this journal has been devoted to showcasing the creative talents of Hunter College’s undergraduate student body. Established in 1983 by students and future Hunter professors, the Olivetree continues to function successfully as a wholly student-run publication. By providing this outlet for our writers and artists, we hope to expand the creative community at Hunter. Our staff is comprised entirely of Hunter undergraduate volunteers, working in three editorial departments: poetry, fiction & non-fiction, and visual art. Any student who can commit the time to reviewing submissions throughout the semester is more than welcome to be an editor. Pieces are selected through open deliberation and majority vote at editorial meetings. It is our belief that the more voices we have at these meetings, the more representative our body of work will be. All work is anonymous to the editors, in the interest of keeping the selection process as unbiased as possible. In addition to seeking enthusiastic new editors each semester, we are also looking for students interested in eventually holding positions in production, treasury, publicity, and even event coordination. The Olivetree proudly hosts open mic nights each semester, giving students the chance to perform their poetry, spoken word, music, and more. For more information about events, submitting material to The Olivetree Review, joining our staff, and other news, please visit our website, theolivetreereview.com. Recently redesigned by Publicity Manager Jessica Taghap, it has helped to significantly expand our readership and recognition, and we hope you will find it helpful in answering all your questions. Special thanks to all those who submitted to our journal! Your contributions keep the Olivetree growing. Thanks, as well, to our many editors, without whom those submissions would not receive the attention they deserve. Finally, a big thank you to The Print Center, for always being patient with us! Sincerely, Victoria Sharoyan Managing Editor, Fall 2010




The Olivetree Review

Victoria Sharoyan

Stairway

photography




The Olivetree Review

Jhenelle Robinson

The Anointing

Inspired by James Baldwin’s If Beale Street Could Talk We looked at the mess we made. We looked at the pain, the moans, the screams, the joy, the love we’d made. We looked at the work we made. Ours Together we were two bodies realized. I, no longer a virgin, no longer a child. He has loved me. He is loving me I love him too More than he’ll ever know. We look at it. All the sperm, all the blood, all the sweat, all the tears. We look at it. It anoints us. It baptizes us. We are christened with each other. He is God I see it. I see his sex. He daubs his blanket on me, it irritates my skin, but it is so made out of love, I don’t mind. I see it. His nappy hair, His missing tooth, His chiseled chest that bobs up and down in the air beautifully.

10


The Olivetree Review

Joann Olivo

Church at the Fortaleza photography

11


The Olivetree Review

Nora Milman

good morning sunshine

photography

12


Alexandra Russo

The Olivetree Review

harold, northeast; then north Four vertical strips of void Desiring so much I feel as if I’ve zeroed out Honey combed potholes of muddy blacks and silvery greys Diverting what is mine what is yours Because a crowd is a crowd is a crowd. Supple rubber of blue cow’s skin Grated compartments of sheep’s milk powdered in All blocked up and still she smells it, burning bubbles of a child’s four hour past Hugged in thick sea scum residue Twenty five beads of broken clasps. Not held so tightly or with the least of love’s lasting impression. Too many words for what verbally can’t be tacted out. I appear less interesting sitting down. 2x

13


The Olivetree Review

Jennifer Jade Yeung

Professor Edwardo Alvarado photography

14


The Olivetree Review

Gesundheit Benjamin Corman My fellow Panthers, I thank you all for gathering here this morning. We all know that this has been a trying year for Coughlin Academy, and we’ve all been affected, whether in our classrooms or in our homes. I applaud our resilience, and I beam with pride at our ability to shine through these tenebrous times. However, I speak to you this morning with a dire warning of what is yet to come. We face a threat today that has the power to untie the laces of freedom that bind us together; it is a threat never before seen in the proud history of this academy, and it is growing every day that we sit and do nothing. I speak of the tide of socialism that has been slowly creeping into our midst. It is a force that has the potential to destroy all that we hold dear at this institution and transform Coughlin into a school of Bolshevik indoctrination. There is an enemy at the gates, and I fear that we are under siege. Last school year, under the tenure of my opponent, Clay Buckingham, some troubling changes were made to our academy that have

15


The Olivetree Review the potential to subvert our entire way of life. Under the blind eye of his inept administration, encumbered by scandal and beholden to Big Football, we have borne witness to the birth of a dark political power. I point, of course, to Asst. Headmaster Daly’s advocacy of birth control in our health-education program. Even more troubling, I should add, is his wife’s abuse of her position as school nurse by making condoms available to any student who seeks to corrupt themselves in silk sheets of sin. I point to Ms. Evelyn’s introduction of The Giver to her fifth grade class, a book that poisons the mind with socialist values, like sharing. I point also to the recently-founded Gay-Straight Alliance forcing their liberal homosexual agenda upon younger students in a sinister plot to add to their numbers. That is not even the beginning. Look to our elementary school and you will see our student-government-subsidized milk program. Look to the high school and you will see our Coughlin-funded student exchange program with Jefferson High, a public institution. Look no further than these disturbing examples, dear Panthers, to see how the pure American values of Coughlin Academy are being corroded by the limp-wristed left. Under Clay Buckingham’s corrupt administration, we have witnessed an unprecedented increase in student-government spending, appalling in these austere times. He has run our student government like a tyrant, spending our budget lavishly like Ozymandias while the foundations of our great academy crumble beneath us. Look no further than the new equipment for our football team, of which he is a member. Look at how he has regulated the Snack Shack with health requirements, a flagrant interference of free enterprise. Look at how the number of student organizations has increased almost 30% in the last twelve months, draining our budget like a sinkhole. Do we really need a frisbee golf team? Is Coughlin Academy really the place for a Jane Austen enthusiasts club? Should we really be supporting these lifestyles with our tuition money? We are better than this, fellow Panthers. Our barrier against the liberal agenda has grown dangerously porous. We must not let these voices of subversion sound like the horns of Jericho, but must stand strong against the enemy, and hold our proud fort against the red tide. My opponent wants to diminish our freedoms. Of Dean Rod-

16


The Olivetree Review denburger’s proposal to raise tuition 5% over the next four fiscal years, he has been suspiciously silent. Of Dr. Harvey’s plan to curtail upperclassmen’s use of the parking lot, his opinion has been absent. His response to growing concerns over terrorism-prevention at after-school functions is suspiciously inadequate. Now, is Clay Buckingham an enemy of Coughlin Academy? I don’t know, and I’m not saying that he is. However, his position regarding these aforementioned policies raises doubts over his loyalties to this Spartan institution. I come to you with solutions, my fellow Panthers, solutions to the problems that my opponent has created. I, Calvin Pigfield, a man of the people and a proud member of the sixth grade, understand the dire circumstances in which we tread. I, Calvin Pigfield, have the strength to keep us safe. If elected student body president for the 2010-2011 school year, I will reinforce our defense against liberal tyranny. I will put a stop to the growing influence of unions amongst both students and faculty. I will banish the PTA from our everyday affairs. I will order the abolition of all superfluous student groups, like the Cake Club and the Estonian Student Organization, which has only two members and yet commands a budget of nearly eighty dollars a semester. I will put an end to our communist milk program. I will reintroduce abstinence education to Mrs. White’s seventh-grade health class. I will order a strict review of our literary curricula, removing subversive materials like The Giver and Huckleberry Finn. Under my command, I will reign in our dangerously opinionated student newspaper, the Panther-Press, and establish a litmus test to keep it firmly centered on Panther pride. I will divert some of the sports budget towards more virtuous pursuits, like a family values club. I will privatize the Snack Shack and the school bookstore. I will work with the treasurer to curb the rampant inflation of Panther Points. Most importantly, my dear classmates, I will restore honor to the Panther name, and we will wear our school colors like badges. We are a strong student body, yet we have been undoubtedly weakened by my opponent’s tenure. However, if you elect me as your president, I will show you the way back to our days of glory. Thank you.

17


The Olivetree Review

Patsy Chen

It’s a Crazed Goat! graphite

18


Valerie Ross

The Olivetree Review

Accurséd Progenitor −Endgame, Beckett

Miranda—after Caliban has her & just before. He’s stunned her, without touching her she can’t move. he mounts her and begins. She fights tears—and loses with one wayward drop Caliban sees the tear and laps it up, cackling as though it were the water of life. Miranda’s stomach almost gives way. He flips over, forcing her to continue on top. He wants to see her work him like the slave he is. And her work becomes her pleasure to her own disgust.

19


The Olivetree Review

Though she feels no joy she doesn’t want to stop can’t stop. Just as she erupts he evaporates. She curls into a fetal position horrified and glutted with his seed. And she grows. Bit by bit clumps of hair—fine at first— begin to sprout from her elephantine body & nails ‘til they become almost as coarse as his.

20


The Olivetree Review

She can’t stand touching it, but can’t leave it alone is fascinated. At the birth—oddly painless— long, silky, spiky hair slowly leaves its perforated source. & the creature is born. Bald all over—not even eyelashes yet the baby, as it grows has a half-submissive half-feral eye. Miranda never suckles her creature so Caliban does. As he grunts and smug laughter reverberate throughout. The first of the “Calibans” he “peopled the isle with.”

21


The Olivetree Review

Alexander Puz

25 Hours

oil

22


The Olivetree Review

Kriztille Junio

Bleu

photography

23


The Olivetree Review

Jennifer Jade Yeung

24

hospital visit recollected photography


The Olivetree Review

Rebecca R. Kish

window text photography

25


The Olivetree Review

Rebecca R. Kish

stale monarch photography

26


Valerie Ross

The Olivetree Review

Stepmother I never asked for this I knew from my teens that maternity was not me Not drawn to 2a.m. feedings milk-mouthed kisses But you and I found each other Knew we had no choice and I got stuck concrete-superglue-on-a-soft-Achilles-heelwound-stuck because you had a family yeah the gods must be belly-laughing I let your children puncture my soul over the years Watching from the doorway as you tuck them in then beckoned forth by you all Unearthing wild sweet strawberries together red lips leafy fingertips and his allergic reaction I sweat blood sponging his vomity face a tacky brooch she gives me I treasure his ecstasy pill to contend with intervening while you’re not home feeling my way will I measure up will my love go unrequited worrying at best they’ll only like me at worst check their watches wanting just you and their space no quickening no womb swelling nor seeing my eyes crinkle in their smiles the same speaking with hands though they might share my love of blowing bubbles push past weariness to help a friend hold a picket sign your children who through broken bones sat’s and those first tense birthdays together become ours unlike other couples nursing we didn’t start in the same place but we ended there lobotomizing migraines not cursing when she loses my heirloom necklace shielding him from your slap when he says that I’m not his blood cancelled vacations so she can study abroad the two of us holding her waiting for the morning after pill to kick in paying for their tuition when you’re unemployed cutting my hair down to the nub to create a wig as chemo takes her and toasting her new look I embrace them an accidental warrior I’m ready to die for you all

27


The Olivetree Review

28


The Olivetree Review

Alexander Puz

Piraguas

acrylic

29


The Olivetree Review

Alexander Puz

Conrad

oil

30


Valerie Ross

The Olivetree Review

Bon Appétit I removed the speck in your eye because you asked me to. My tongue caught the faintly saline taste the slick camel-corneal hump atop the firm yet pliant sphere vitreous humor bursting like runny egg yolk gossamer veins ejaculated, fascinated me bathing your moisture with mine forgive me, I couldn’t resist— your scream.

31


The Olivetree Review

Victoria Sharoyan

Remnants photography

32


The Olivetree Review

Jon Michael Anzalone

CaafĂŠ

photography

33


The Olivetree Review

Hafsa Muhammad

Cynic Glory “you were flying?” “how can it be a horse if you were flying, it was a unicorn then?” --it was a horse “a horse that flies is by all reasonable imaginations called a unicorn” --felt like a horse “then how could u be flying?” --felt like flying “on a UUNICORN” could u pass the milk?

dead conversations…dreams expected to be rationalistic imaginations he just manages to reduce pre-shaky creative hesitance into an entire null-itude (making up words-the always acceptable, good old attempt at creativity) Facebook it almost always manages to make me feel above the herd: philosophical satisfaction in being surrounded by pouty-lips and various bathroom photo sessions how can digitalizing life be enthusiastic photo number 104567: pouty-lip number 672281 “Oh…interesting i so could have done that, but I am at a point in my life choosing to be different” --different? isn’t that such an empty idea --ive been pretty much indifferent to the natural narcissistic need until now

34


The Olivetree Review

“so whats that supposed to be?” --im just exploring how empty life can be..on paper “oh in that case it makes sense” “i really like how the whiteness of the paper is so pure, all-knowing/ nothing-knowing, transparent, fleeting and pulling me in at the same time” --its still where i left off three years ago. “sure why shouldn’t it be” --i think its too holy cyn•i•cism [sin-uh-siz-uh m] what sells art i think they need a life some more dead conversations at breakfast tables and one more cut wrist i hope this sells… a red-black rubbery shine, hinting signs of flowing life over the white the shiny white sacrosanct nothingness.

35


The Olivetree Review

Zoreen Paderanga

Lycoris Skin

digital

36


The Olivetree Review

Kriztille Junio

Rouge

photography

37


The Olivetree Review

Connie Salvayon

Sunburn On the top floor of the Third Avenue parking garage, you and I watched how the expanse of city unfolded around us. A forest of glass figurines, Some gilded by the fading sunlight. It was a draining sunset that made the sky look like a week-old bruise. Well, I’d do anything now for a bruise Or a scar. I’d trade anything to obliterate that image from my memory. Because now much more than a city has unfolded between us. I’d love to take a sledgehammer and crush the city skyline, smash the perfect, diamond-cut silhouette ‘til it shatters and shrieks, leaving only the tinkling remains to crackle like raindrops fingerprinting the windshield of your car.

38


The Olivetree Review

But, instead, I’ll be forever trying to forget the exact dimension of each ominous skyscraper, Like the perpetual burden of hiding a run in my tights. Because it’s true, you are undeniably a part of me, just like the raw patch of sunburn peeling on my shoulder.

39


The Olivetree Review

New York Minute

A Flash Fiction Contest “This city moves fast. You move faster.�

- Shakti Castro

Get it up, get it out, get it down. This contest was all about embracing the short and sweet. Flash fiction, also sometimes referred to as sudden fiction, microfiction, or prosetry is defined as a very short complete piece of fiction. It is usually capped at a word limit of about 300 to 1,000. Our contest prompted writers to construct a complete story that could stand alone in a mere 800 words. The editors judging this contest were looking for solid background, characterization, and development, and the winning piece truly delivered. Typically, winners of Olivetree contests are awarded a monetary prize (in this case, a $50 gift card to the Strand Bookstore). Unfortunately, as a new member of the Olivetree staff, Mr. Bohorquez was ineligible. We appreciate his understanding and encourage our other readers at Hunter to take part in our upcoming contests.

This contest was judged by the following panel of senior editors. As with all submissions, names of writers were not disclosed to the editors until after deliberation. Salvatore G. Conte Rebecca R. Kish Crystal Rivera Victoria Sharoyan Jessica Taghap

40


The Olivetree Review

Winner

Nolan Bohorquez

After years as a highly regarded writer, Nolan Bohorquez realized that anyone can say that in their biography, as long as they say it in the third person. He is a first-year transfer student at Hunter College. Though he has acted as Managing Editor at the Youngtown Edition and received honorable mention from the New Jersey Press Foundation’s Better College Newspaper Contest, “The Grandfather’s Funeral” is his first published story. He has been reading avidly and is the sort of person who reads the parts of his English book no one makes him. His personal goal is to write one book and one script a year.

41


The Olivetree Review

The Grandfather’s Funeral Nolan Bohorquez My grandpa had always been too serious to have anything to worry about. He liked to tell me he was the top of his class at Stevens, and mom liked to tell me he used to work at IBM. Mom said he’d always been the kind of guy who would rather fix a toaster than a relationship. Which made Grandpa smile. “When a man reaches a certain age,” he told me, “there are things he has to start worrying about.” And so, when he started having trouble getting up the stairs, he started thinking about his funeral. One thing he was sure of: No God. “I just never liked all the church ceremonies,” he said. My mom tried to tell him different, and said that people would be expecting that too, but Grandpa said no. “Joe had a religious service,” said grandpa. “Stupid. I spent my whole life making Joe look good. For one afternoon, can’t I have my day?”

42


Joe had been Grandpa’s boss at IBM.

The Olivetree Review

Mom pursed her lips, but she didn’t say anything. We decided there should be flowers, since everyone else had them and everything and he let me help, since Kris was at summer camp, so I picked rice krispy treats, like we used to have when I was little, and grape punch because I don’t like apple juice. I wanted potato pancakes, but Mom said that was too much. Grandpa made me choose, so I went with the rice krispies, then Grandpa said we should add stuff for adults too. Soda and sandwiches, wine and crackers. He’s a total type A, like Mom always says. I decided it would be held in the park if it was in the summer though mom still wanted a church and said we could find one that was nondenominational so Grandpa wouldn’t feel “second place to Jesus.” Grandpa told me he liked my idea better, but Mom said that was a memorial, not a funeral. I said that was good too, but Mom said that wasn’t the same. Grandpa laughed. We picked out tablecloths and I decided on elephants and balloons, so that no one would be upset. Adults would sit at a big rectangle table over by the spring and the kids would sit on the other side over by the swings. We were to have seven kinds of ice cream, three kinds of cone and a bouncy house, shaped like a castle. I could see Mom was getting upset then (I pay attention) so I thought we could add a part where people could stand up and say all the things they liked about Grandpa and told him right then that I thought he was fun and not scary like my friend’s grandma Wendy. She’s old and cruel, then squints at me and wants me to pet her dogs, which I know only like her. Mom said that wasn’t nice and said later on she would make me apologize to my friend’s grandma and show me her dogs were nice, for my

43


The Olivetree Review own good. I just pouted. I tried to think of more funeral stuff and tried to think of the best coffin (sky blue with wool mats like in Grandpa’s Chevy), the best outfit to wear (he would wear the white suit he’d worn to my dance recital and I would wear the dress we got for my birthday) and tried to figure out the best person to keep to make sure everything ran smoothly, but Mom got upset and said that grandpa was going to put ideas in my head. She got upset and said we had to go. Grandpa almost got upset too, then he tried to fix everything, like he always did. “Mary,” said Grandpa, which is what he called her when he wanted her to listen, “it doesn’t have to be right for everyone else. Just once, let things be right for me.” Mom said it wasn’t about that and that I had a dentist appointment she had forgotten about, but after we left we went home, where Mom tried to talk to me, but I just ran up to my room. So when Grandpa died at the end of that October and they made me come with them, to sit in the pews and hear the preacher talk about how Grandpa had been a good servant I wanted to scream and tell them about how this was stupid and about all the fun we were supposed to be having. But when I tried talking, Mom snapped at me and slapped me, right there in front of everything and no one knew what to say. Which is why I’m not speaking to her right now. But at least I got my grape punch.

44


The Olivetree Review

Carlos Guzman

Astoria Park photography

45


The Olivetree Review

Contributors Jon Michael Anzalone is an international train stowaway and a formerly itinerant circus hopeful. A film photographer and purist, he has worked across continents, across fault lines between continents, survived incidents of mad dogs and mad men, and has arrived now in grand spectacle to vague and low murmurs of muted acclaim. Patsy Chen grew up in a forest of mint chocolate ice cream. Her art takes root in comic books, games, and anime, but she has thorough training in the Fine Arts. She loves and appreciates all art—assuming it is good art (being spoiled by ice cream has made her picky). Her most recent work has been for a children’s book of rhymes. For questions, more information, or if you are being attacked by a mutant gummy bear (it most likely belongs to her), she can be reached at pat.c.chen@gmail.com. Benjamin Corman studies Creative Writing at Hunter College. This is his first time submitting to The Olivetree Review. Carlos Guzman is a native New Yorker who grew up in Queens and became interested in photography at a young age. Currently, he is a student at Hunter College pursuing two degrees, one in Fine Arts and the other in Environmental Studies. His work ranges from Commercial to Nature/Landscape Photography. Commercial Photography enables him to have total control of the subject, lighting and the creative process behind every shoot. Nature/Landscape Photography,

46


The Olivetree Review on the other hand, is about capturing the beauty of planet Earth. He believes that Earth itself is a magnificent work of art, and that photography is only an instrument that enables him to capture it. Currently, he is working on two ongoing projects, the first one being about the resemblance between dogs and their owners and the second one being a series of night-sky photographs. Kriztille Junio has recently developed an interest in still lifes, and with the use of props both found and created, she endeavors to explore the fairytales that inspire her. “Bleu” and “Rouge” echo something familiar and pleasant but twist into something entirely sinister—as to what or why, that is simply left for the viewer to decide. She is inspired by the works of Lewis Carroll, Neil Gaiman and the Brothers Grimm. Rebecca Kish believes in energy, the undergraduate writing community of Hunter College, and communication with all objects. Nora Milman is a Media major who enjoys photography. She finds inspiration in the outdoors and in everyday ordinary things. She has been Production Manager of The Olivetree Review for three years. This magazine is her art. Hafsa Muhammad is currently considering a major in Art, English, Philosophy, or even Math. Originally from Pakistan, she has lived in Bangladesh for four years and is now studying as an international student in New York. Her creative interests were mainly influenced by her older brothers, and she is at a point in her life where she is deciding whether her crazed interest in Blues is really real. She enjoys drawing and writing. Joann Olivo is a senior at Hunter, majoring in Creative Writing and Media Studies. When not in school, she works full time as an insurance broker. Although her first passion is writing stories, she dabbles in photography, snapping shots while vacationing. She aspires to travel the world. On “Church at the Fortaleza”:

47


The Olivetree Review

“The church is within El Morro in Puerto Rico. I enjoyed the sense of history and comfort I got from being inside. It felt like a living museum.”

Zoreen Paderanga is an undergraduate Studio Art major with a particular love for drawing and illustration. Her primary influences stem from a long affair with Japanese animation and graphics, an onand-off dalliance with motifs from a myriad of cultures and an adoring fascination with tattoos and body art, all of which has culminated into a wistful fantasy of becoming a tattoo artist and the occasional habit of drawing on her skin (and, sometimes, that of her friends). Alexander Puz is a young artist living in New York City and is amazed and intrigued by life. Each day brings new ideas, fresh feelings and a deeper understanding of the city, himself and the world. His hope is that his artwork generates some of the magnificent wonder and fear that punctuates existence. “Art is the creation of a sensory experience that engenders and transmits the emotional states of human beings. The ideal artwork takes on a life of its own and becomes a chasm for both introspection and reflection. Though it can be in any medium, there is one defining element in this artwork: a distillation of the human condition.” More work at: www.alexanderpuz.com Jhenelle Robinson: Bronx born and raised. Public school educated. Future educator and lifetime student. Valerie Ross is a sunflower, chocoholic and Phi Beta Kappa English major at CUNY Lehman College. She loves rainbows, good friends, unicorns, the arts, nature, animals, yoga and late spring to early summer. She knows there’s life with superior intelligence in the universe. Her muse is strikingly unpredictable. Her favorite word is namasté.

48


The Olivetree Review Alexandra Russo double majors in English Literature and Studio Art. She has been using poetry as a means of understanding for as long as she can remember. Mainly a visual artist, Connie Salvayon studies Studio Art at Hunter College. She has lived in New York for almost two years. She writes poetry for fun in her spare time. A long-time poetry editor of The Olivetree Review, Victoria Sharoyan has recently begun dabbling in photography. Her writing is primarily inspired by love, language, and love of language and plays prominently with words and sounds. She is always in [MLA] style and fully endorses the Oxford comma. Jennifer Jade Yeung works mainly with black and white film, which she develops and prints herself at the International Center of Photography. Her current areas of interest and inspiration include urban decay, micro-sociology, feminism, and various world cultures. She also writes poetry and plans on majoring in Creative Writing.

49


The Olivetree Review No. 48 Fall 2010  

The Olivetree Review has been publishing Hunter College student work since 1983. This journal is available in print at Thomas Hunter Room 21...

Read more
Read more
Similar to
Popular now
Just for you