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don’t belong

Fall 2017 Zine




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Mo n t a ge Fa l l Z i n e


Christina Popik & Erin Kane A huge thank you to everyone who contributed to the fall zine this year! Your passion is prevalent in every word you write, every picture you take, and all the other creative ideas you execute. Be proud of the work you share, for you inspire others to do the same, even when it seems nerve-wrecking to share your feelings with the world. Thank you for keeping the arts community active here at Quinnipiac and I hope to see you all submit again in the future! –Christina •••

Thank you to all of the talented writers, artists and photographers who are featured in this zine. Thank you to those who will take the time to feel every page, read the work and look at every image within this zine. Zines are very special and this one allowed Christina and I to take a new perspective on them. We hope that this compilation of work will encourage readers and viewers to push themselves and fray away from their comfort zones just like the artists and writers who contributed. –Erin

Zine design by Christina Popik Cover photo by Sophie Frank Copy edited by Rosie Persiani

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Photography by Emma Robertson

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Photography by Sophie Frank

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humans. you came to me so desperate for warmth someplace to call home. so i let you like the giants before take refuge in my roots. you used to be so gentle so calm i almost believed it was a dream. then the wars began you bloodied my body and fought and fought and fought. you began to pollute my breath with your absurd creations. i trusted you to take care of me as i did you but you deceived me and now i’m dying.

Poem by Jordan Wasylak

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8 Be there or be square But I wanted to be an octagon Bumpy and brash No, I don’t want to go to your fucking party Jessica. I don’t roll with things Sure, it’s harder for me to get around in the world The way that I am Better than being a circle So soft and perfect and delicate Circles get fucked up too easily I’m misshapen too, but for good reasons Don’t tell me that the wind knocked you over when my dents were the result of mallets Eight dents For eight lifetimes packed into one figure I’m not like you Jessica See you ‘round

Poem by Jen Rondinelli

Gone Awol

Digital art by Ian Berkey

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Photography by Christina Popik

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Celestial Tango Two planets in orbit Too much space between us When one seems to get close The other glides

farther away

I am earth And you are


So close, close enough to seemingly touch, Yet, so

Far. Poem by Kirsten Koedding

Repulsion You and me We go together like Puzzles and glue Fire and ice Water and wine Venus and Mars Good on our own Bad for each other Aren’t we quite the pair? Poem by Sophia Alfieri

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Where Do I Belong I’m weak, and it fucking kills me. I want to be a rock for people, and I am, But I can’t even be sturdy enough for myself. It sucks. How do I convince myself I’m a good guy, When all I do is fuck up time and time again? I’m tired of this. I just want to go, I want to drive. Forget about gas, with no map, no gps. I don’t know where I’m going, but i want out. It’s as though I don’t belong - in this school? In this society? In this world? Nothing ever seems to work out in my favor. Everything that starts out good turns bad, And everything that starts out bad turns worse. If I don’t belong here, If I’m just an... outsider looking in, Then where do I belong?

Poem by Sean Raggio

Digital art by Caylie Smith

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Photography by Crandall Yopp

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you don’t exist in my stories you exist/ outside of your bedroom as mine secret/ as your pupils darting away from mine/ as hair long -ing to caress/ not my chest/ my waist/ my inner thighs/ as tidal waves scared of getting/ caught by sunlight/ with my sand you exist/ outside of my bedroom as your fear/ as your fingernails violated/ by your twitchy teeth/ as your heavy nudge at my/ arms/ lips/ pushing my touch away/ as the blank space in my stories/ narratives of when i learned/ how to


i don’t exist in your stories either/ not at the dinner table/ when your loved ones ask/ about the time you fell into my throat/ sucked out my air/ i was your inhaler/ your lungs collapsed/ or the time you held your breath/ closed your eyes/ and drank all seventy percent/ of me/ your narratives came out as blank / we exist in our consciousness/ as two sets of double X’s/ chromosomes/ as the same pole of two/ magnets/ designed for eyes to watch us push/ each other away we exist/ when the moon guides your waves in the dark/ to wet my shore/ when i hide in between your legs/ diving in/ headfirst to drink you/ i was seaweed washed up on shore/ craving the salt water to fill the space in my/ lungs/ before my flesh dries up/ under the sun as you pull away/ from my sand Poem by Nhung An

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home I find myself feeling homesick for a place that no longer exists. For the headboard with the butterflies and the alarm clock that always screamed too loudly. Now the place is filled with screams, but I’m not strong enough to hit snooze. Untangling my hair always felt like knives kissing my scalp, but knots are sweeter than razors and tears are saltier when cried alone. They cut down the hedges I used to scratch my arms on sneaking through my neighbor’s yard. Now our neighbors can see the gashes but choose to keep their heads down. I’ve never seen ivy grow on walls put up by humans, but my mother has grown a beautiful garden she tends to by herself. When I call there is an answer, but the hiss and moan of “we miss you” feel as full as the Styrofoam cups of burnt coffee we used to steal from the bakery. My sister still lives in that place called home but she doesn’t know. I can’t bring myself to tell her about my bloodied, sharpened nails and aching muscles from my many attempts at return. The gold plated door was open when I last saw it But I heard it’s locked now, and I don’t have the key.

Poem by Anonymous

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Photography by Megan Lowe

Editor wi to Edit

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An interview with Christina Popik with questions by Erin Kane •••

How did you get started doing design? I took a graphic design class my senior year of high school and fell in love with it from there. Even coming into college I was a bit confused as to what I wanted to study. My mom always told me I was good at making posters for school projects but I wasn't sure where to go with that. When I came to Quinnipiac and explored the Interactive Digital Design program, I loved the endless possibilities of where I could take graphic design. Where do you look for inspiration with your designs? I look at work of famous graphic designers such as Paul Rand, Chip Kidd, and Margo Chase. For more specific projects I tend to look on websites like Pinterest or Designspiration where I build up a collections of images for reference. I know that you have now been getting into photography, how does knowing different mediums help you with design? Being a photographer is a great skill to have with graphic design because you can easily combine the two by using your images in your work. You don't have to borrow someone elses images and you can manipute your own photos and get a snap of something exactly that you envision. Same thing with knowing how to draw. It isn't necessary but definately helps your work. What does Montage mean to you? Montage is a way for me to express myself creatively with other people who want to do the same. I love visual arts and that's what I practice but I have a high appreciration for those who write and I love reading and hearing performances at the open mics. I find self-expression through art very relateable and it's comforting to here people often encounter similar feelings and experiences and are willing to share them. What has been your greatest challenge as an artist? Finding inspiration for a type of project you haven't done before or executing a project you have a vison for but are not sure how to do it. What do you want to do with art and design in the future? I would love to work for a magazine and design their spreads, make websites, or go into the user experience design field. User experience design is really delving into why things are made the way they are and what can be done to improve them and I find the process facinating.

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ith Christina & Erin


An interview with Erin Kane with questions by Christina Popik •••

How did you fall in love with photography? It sort of just happened. My brother had a camera and took pictures all the time, so I decided to give it a try. Once I figured out how to use a camera I tried doing different things and it was something that my brother and I would go and do together, which made me like it even more. What are your favorite type of photos to take? I don’t really have a favorite type of photo to take. I noticed that I kind of go through phases with what I like taking photos of. I used to really enjoy taking pictures of a lot of landscapes and then I enjoyed doing more detailed photos. If you could take pictures anywhere in the world where would it be? I would really love to travel and take pictures, but I don’t think there is a particular place that I would want to take photos in. I would love to take photos in Thailand, but I feel that travel photos all tend to look the same. I would rather take concert photos or athletic photos because those can always look different. What do you love about Montage? Montage became a place for me to explore photography and not be afraid to try new things. The environment of Montage is just so comfortable and enjoyable to be in. What is your biggest struggle as a photographer? My biggest struggle is trying not to have a photo that looks too similar to somebody else’s. It can be difficult to stray away from what a lot of photographers do and try not to copy things that we find within photography that seem so cool to do. There is plagiarism within photography and that is difficult to stay away from. What’s some advice for anyone who is trying to get into photography? My advice for anyone who is trying to get into photography would be to just do it. You don’t need a fancy camera or anything. It isn’t about the camera that makes a good photo, it is about the person and the eye that they have to making the photo unique. What is a favorite quote that inspires you? A quote that always comes to mind for me is “we take photos as a return ticket to a moment otherwise gone.”

Mo n t a ge Fa l l Z i n e

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Photography by Elizabeth Freeman

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Unrequited Love My love—take your time, for we can only wait. Your soft, sweet smile and radiant air a charming gift, presented by Fate. Your bright eyes a doorway—no, a gleaming gate Directly to heaven; free from despair. My love, take your time, we can only wait For your innocent demeanor and happiness innate— Flowing through the delicate strands of your silken hair— A charming gift, presented by Fate. It’s certain you’ll be perfect in every intricate trait Designed by the angels, for Earth too pure and fair. My love, take your time, we need only wait. Your precious grasp and gaze deflate The crying question of how to prepare For this charming gift, presented by Fate. Yet your image—immaculate—imposes a weight, Knowing it is just that yields only despair. My love, there’s no time—I cannot wait, As I will never have this gift; and that is my fate.

Poem by Elyssa Wrubel

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Life Surely, there are going to be plenty of those moments in life when we wish we could travel back in time and change history, but we don’t have the ability to do so- it’s as simple as that. What we have the ability to do though is to learn from our failures and persevere as our future is presented with more opportunities. I strongly believe our life mottos should centralize around the ideas of “Carpe Diem” (Sieze the day), “C’est la vie” (That’s life), “Hakuna matata” (No worries), “Je t’aime” (love), and “Never grow up” because all these mottos symbolize the reasons we stay alive for. Take for instance what Robin Williams, as John Keating, said in one of my favorite movies, Dead Poets Society: “... The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?” So, I ask myself, “What am I waiting for?” And the answer can always be found in my determination to not allow defeat to influence my fate.

The Ride of A Lifetime Called School Lately, I have been thinking about Dr. Seuss’ quote, “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” It has got me thinking that I should try to make my life more memorable and do my best to put a smile on my face everyday. After all, we only have one life. And now since I’m in college I’m starting to realize that my childhood is truly coming to an end and I can’t do anything about it. Only 4 more years until we graduate and act like adults! Even though, I will miss trick-or-treating and not having a single care in the world, I must face the present, not the past. After all, childhood is like a roller coaster; when you immediately sit down and are slowly going up, you start to get butterflies in your stomach, but when you slow down and are forced to get off the roller coaster, you finally realize that the ride wasn’t so bad after all.

Prose by Scarlett Blydenburgh

Drawing by Ruby Rosenwasser

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Photography by Madison Fraitag

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Untitled Windows are supposed to be clear. Where I can see the coral reefs of Hawaii, Or the seals swimming in the Pacific. I’m not supposed to see the cloudy mist over the once clear blue, that fogs over the shining sun. I’m supposed to look deep into the abyss and surrounding colors, into the saturation of pigments swimming beneath the cornea. I’m not supposed to see a faded rainbow allowing itself to be washed away by grey rain. The sun is supposed to shine, your soul is supposed to sing, not fall further and further, less cohesive and more buried, blurred by the moisture. So I reach out with a helping hand hoping, that you will allow me to paint your irises the color of the sky once again and I can see your soul healed.

Poem by Brantley Boyda

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Dissection I sat in the parking lot Thinking that the light From the lampposts were UFOs And they were coming to save me.

They went through their color Coding system, taking what they Needed, putting the useless ones Back inside me.

But instead of whisking me away They wrapped me up tight In layers of cellophane, I was naked on display For the world to see.

Then they arrived at my Heart.

They stole all my organs, Labeling them in vomit green Post- it notes. Color coding With dots in the upper left Corner to determine Which organs were useless to them.

They decided it was safer to Take it because they would Find something for it to Accomplish. It would do More sitting in a jar With them then living In the corpse that is me.

They began with my tar filled Lungs from years of secret cigarettes And weeks of marijuana. The lungs reeking of asthma Were of no use to them.

The flies surrounded Me like I was dead Inside but in reality I’m just empty.

And couldn’t quite Determine if it was any Use to either of us.

They moved to my liver and decided That if they took it immediately It could be of use to them. If they came back for it My nights of binge drinking Would be more apparent.

Poem by Rosie Persiani

Photography by Erin Kane

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Photography by Crandall Yopp

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Unblinking Eyes Every time it starts to hail, I would like to cry. The poor land animals that did not know it would hail would have to run and hide. I wonder if their burrows are deep enough in the ground, and I wonder, if they dig deep enough they can feel the heat from the center of the earth; but what about the birds falling from the sky as the hail hits their wings, chaos reigning all around them; I wonder if they find burrows too because surely their nests will not provide them with enough protection. I stare out the window as I wonder about the birds and the land animals fending for themselves against the heinous hail, but what about in the thunder when basketball hoops fall on cars, and children run crying to their parents, and I lay awake at night with tears streaming down my face, not from the hail or the thunder, but from the voices that won’t stop yelling; from the pain I hear in the sounds they make. I know my presence will not make them stop, so I think of the hail and where the birds and land animals go when it hails.

Hail riff by Victoria Simpri

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Selfish “I miss her,” Mom sobbed into the phone. With my sister away, I almost felt guilty for leaving my mom alone with him. That “almost” haunts me

Societal Chains I’m bound by chains. No one wants me to be truly free And the only time they release me is when there’s something they want to take away from me But is this temporary freedom worth losing parts of me?

Men Men always tell you how a woman needs a man But that’s not true. Men make us feel like we need them So they can assert their dominance over us. In truth, men need women… to please their egos

Poems by Afsha Kasam

Photography by Elizabeth Freeman

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We are a group of students who promote the growth of emerging writers and artists. We want writing that pushes boundaries; we seek strong, thought-provoking imagery; we strive to showcase new and original works. Montage is the hub for creative expression at Quinnipiac. insta: @quinnipiacmontage facebook: /quinnipiacmontage Join us on Wednesdays at 5 p.m. in SC117 Submit to our journal:

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Come check out Montage and WQAQ’s Open Mic series this semester! There’s free food and drinks, awesome raffle prizes, free merchandise, lots of talented writers and artists, and of course, the chance to hop on the mic.

11/16/17 @ 7pm in SC 120 Featuring a performance by Q30’s Quinnipiac Tonight

12/7/17 @ 7pm in SC 120

Montage Fall 2017 Zine  

Montage presents their Fall 2017 zine featuring work contributed from talented artists and writers in of the Quinnipiac community

Montage Fall 2017 Zine  

Montage presents their Fall 2017 zine featuring work contributed from talented artists and writers in of the Quinnipiac community