Rena Magazine Issue 3

Rena Dreams

03 Issue.

RFor millennia humans have been recording dreams, and still researchers and scientists struggle to identify the body’s reasoning for dreaming. The average person will dream for 2 hours a night, yet for many, this fractional period of time is elusive. It raises the question of what is universal about dreams, if anything? Is it that feeling of excitement coursing through your body as your brain attempts to piece together the adventures that transpired during the day? Or, is it the specific type of disappointment only reserved for the moment when you realize you cannot recall a single thing from those 120 minutes? Is it the intoxicating, simple pleasure of successfully remembering where you traveled, and with who, while doing what?

Maybe it’s the daily reminder that the confines of this reality can only define our existence to an extent. The realization that when our eyelids fall over our eyes and we travel into the spaces of our vast brain, something absolutely magical happens. Dreams preserve our youth, like a butterfly casted in amber, giving us the agency to blur the boundaries, transcend the binary, and construct ornate worlds. We can be who- or whatever we want, in magical places, accomplishing things unfathomable to our waking selves. You could be dining in the clouds as the honored guest of astral bodies that dazzle the sky, or bathing in water the color of gemstones. It’s possible you could even step into a frozen wonderland, or travel to a world where flowers bow at your feet.

Dreamscapes sculpt our reality in ways we cannot even begin to quantify. These sequences are the foundation of our imagination, the building blocks of creativity, breathing life into our hopes and aspirations. It is here that we find the universal experience of dreams, one of the true beauties of the mind. It is here that we at Rena exist, a world of infinite possibilities. A home to multiplicity and foreign to the limitations of reason. We invite you all to take a step into the dreamscapes of Rena.

RE NA

Models: Keonna Hyacinth

Photographer: Audrey Franza

Styled by: Cameron Wallace

Made of paint and crafted by brushstrokes, this canvas has been my throne and my cell. Day in and day out, I watch people come to the gallery to look at me; I don’t think anyone has ever realized that I act as a silent witness to the ebb and flow of life within the gallery.

While I tend to enjoy most of the visitors that come in, there are a few that perpetually make visits to my consciousness. Their voices, movements, smiles, and stories play on repeat and if I could, I would relinquish my place on this wall to follow them into the world.

Models: Krystal Honeyghan

Photographer: Audrey Franza

Styled by: Cameron Wallace

Location: Visual Media Center Binghamton University

Hearts of Jasmine Minds of Oak Auras of Sage

If I had to guess who the artwork was here, I might have made a mistake.

She had white flowers that decorated the sides of her face and blue paint that carefully caressed her eyes. The sun’s rays melted in the pools of eyes, as she passed into the sunlight. The entire room stopped as people turned in hope to take in her fleeting presence. I could even feel the hands of Father Time himself slow down when she entered the space. While I have never seen her before, I was certain she commanded the attention of others regularly. One could argue it was the flowers that garnered attention, as I had never seen someone with the flowers attached to them come into the gallery. Considering the amount of quick glances she got from other people, I don’t think you see many people with flowers on their face outside the gallery either. Although, I don’t think that she cared much.

She had a smile that made me think it had always been there and always will be - the kind of smile that could make flowers bloom and the earth sing. Even if you didn’t see it on her face, it was hiding away somewhere inside her mind. It was clear, she was a daughter of the earth, a healer, a lover, a harbinger of light. I had only heard of them, these women with hearts of jasmine, minds of oak, and auras of sage.

Her poise and grace overflowed from every crevice of her being; there was something so majestic about her. Majestic in the way that her beauty and happiness are equal parts captivating and intimidating. Many people associate happiness with docility, something of a much tamer nature. I, however, think happiness is a fierce thing. It’s like a warrior that has all the odds against them and somehow makes it out the victor. A combatant whose presence is so potent, the entire battlefield feels it when they’re not around.

“She had a smile that made me think it had always been there and always will bethe kind of smile that could make flowers bloom and the earth sing.”

Her gaze met mine and she gave me a smile. I don’t get those often. I receive lots of stares, fingers pointing, whispered comments to those around but rarely ever a smile. It made me feel seen in a way that I hadn’t in a really long time. It is one thing to be visually-arresting enough to make one stop and take a moment to look at you. But to make someone stop, look, and smile- it soothed an ache I didn’t know I had. If I could, I would have smiled back at her too and hopefully bring her just as much joy.

Dinner in the Sky

She walked in with the best pink dress I had ever seen and I knew I was going to remember her for a long time.

She stuck out amongst everyone else and it was obvious in the way people reacted. In a place that tended to be so quiet, her confidence shouted volumes without saying a single word.

One family was brave enough to stop her for a conversation. A gentleman who looked to be in his thirties asked the reason she was so dressed up. “It’s my birthday,” she replied. “I love to get all dolled up on my birthday.” Dolled up was the perfect expression to use; she almost didn’t look real. I searched for something out of place and I couldn’t find a single thing.

The little boys that were with him shouted happy birthday while grinning widely. Their father hushed them while laughing to himself. “Happy birthday,” he said. “Do you have any plans to celebrate besides this?” She

“In a place that tended to be so quiet, her confidence shouted volumes without saying a single word.”

nodded her head and replied, “I’m heading to a rooftop bar with some friends of mine. Looking forward to just spending some time with the people I care about.” He wished her a good time and they smiled once more at each other before heading separate ways. One of the little boys asked his father, “Is she a princess?” “Maybe she is in someone’s eyes.”

That got a quiet smile from the girl as she headed out of the room.

I loved seeing people come into the museum on their birthday. It made me feel as though I was part of the festivities. They exuded such hap-

piness that I could feel it even on my little spot on the wall.

I thought about that girl’s dinner plans for the rest of that day. Having dinner in the sky sounded absolutely surreal; overlooking all that has existed to get you through one more year. Maybe I’d reach out and grab a cloud as dessert.

Models: Vanessa Obeng

Photographer: Audrey Franza

Styled by: Cameron Wallace

Location: Informal Photo Studio Space

Binghamton University

The Desire to Feel

“The water was so blue, I had never seen anything like it”

“Me neither! It was like a dream.”

Two girls stood in front of me and reminisced on a trip they had just come back from. I am not sure what inspired them to talk about their trip but I was eager to listen. I had never seen a sea not made from paint and canvas, or even water that didn’t live in a bottle at that. I had a difficult time wrapping my mind around the concept of the ocean. How could so much water accumulate in one place and be such a strong force? There was a painting across from me that illustrated the ocean pulling a ship deep into itself; attempting to hold the ship and its passengers as eternal guests. I have

a glimpse as to what it feels like to be a place’s permanent company and I longed to be free from that role. The ocean had a controlling nature and it looked to me that whoever or whatever it wanted, it was going to have. I had developed a fear of the ocean ever since that painting became my neighbor.

However, as the girls described their trip, my fears started washing away. They reminisced on how refreshing the water felt against their skin, providing them comfort from the hot sun. And as that sun set, the sea reflected it so beautifully, it made them forget how mad they were at the sun all day long.

They talked about how swimming in a sea so pure felt magical. I caught a glimpse of a picture they had asked a stranger to take of them together in the water. The two of them laid there, leaning their heads against each other. It seemed as though the water was supporting them; lifting them up and giving them the space to enjoy that moment together.

A force of nature that I thought of as so ruthless and dominating turned into caring and nurturing in a matter of one conversation.

One of the girls described their vacation as paradise and while I had never been there, I know I would have agreed. The desire to feel the ocean against my skin was one that nestled its way into my heart and I don’t think it’s going anywhere anytime soon.

“I miss it,” one girl sighed. Oddly enough, I missed it too.

Stars of the Sea

Models: Annie Nguyen

Lianna Lutchman

Photographer: Audrey Franza

Styled by: Cameron Wallace

Location:

Sculpture Studio Binghamton University

Models: Ada Lam

Photographer: Audrey Franza

Styled by: Cameron Wallace

Location: Westside, Binghamton New York

Frozen Love

The building was teeming with anticipation; I had heard whispers of a new acquisition being installed that day. It’s an exciting time because it causes some disruption to the mundane loop I’m in. It really offers something new to look at.

I caught a glimpse of the landscape portrait as they unwrapped it before hanging it on the walls. The snow covered trees and the lone black bird perched could only be Claude Monet’s Magpie. A real fascinating piece, I have never seen a real magpie before or even experienced snow in person. Bound between the four edges of this frame, trapped on these walls, I only ever get to vicariously live through the patrons.

A Soft and Ephemeral Demonstration of Love

Some of my favorite days are when it snows because I get to watch the joy that this frozen precipitation catalyzes. I love when people come in with little droplets decorating their eyes and their hair. It makes people look so magical, like mother nature has showered them with kisses and had no intent of wiping the marks left. A soft and ephemeral demonstration of love.

I stare back at the bird in the painting.The black bird against the white snow draws my attention quite often. It reminds me of this girl who visited one snowy day. Her hair was the deepest blue, the kind of blue that even the sky envies. White prisms crowned her hair like a crown reserved only for royalty. She seemed as gentle as the snow that christened her. Her smile was warmer than the gods’ hearth, yet no snow seemed to melt. She possessed this way of dancing along the edge of cold and warmth. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to know the sensation of watching the droplets of melted snowflakes race down your skin, pooling at your feet.

I’ve been told that magpies often serve as omens of good luck. I recall this feeling of joy that reverberated throughout my body that day seeing the blue-haired beauty undress the snow from her person. I wonder if she knows that she was my magpie, my prelude of fortunes yet to come.

On sunny days I lose myself in the panes of the window across the gallery. I watch as the clouds dance across the bluest skies, trapped in an endless loop. Is trapped the right word? It has such a negative connotation, but I can’t help but wonder if monotony plagues them too.

Despite the confines of their cyclical nature, these heavenly bodies move with a sense of freedom and grace I can’t even comprehend, only envy. I watch as they move in elegant strides across the vastness, effortlessly pushing past one another. I understand clouds to be dense and move with a vigor and forcefulness thanks to the wind, but when I watch these radiant masses float with such lightness, the science seems to fail me.

It makes me think about my neighbor - this painting that captured this beautiful deity lounging in the clouds, behind her stood this scintillating palace resting on rolling clouds. The brush strokes portraying the weightlessness, a concept I didn’t even know one could communicate, yet at the same time illustrating the very strength of these clouds. It’s magnificent to think that something as simple and ubiquitous as clouds are worthy of being homes to gods and goddesses alike. I wonder what or who is really up there in the clouds.

That’s the funny thing about clouds. They’ve always eluded my understanding, I could never quite wrap my head around them. They possess this sort of duality that enchants me. If I think too long about them I start to question other things I have come to accept and believe to be absolute in truth, the things I have become to familiarize myself with just one face, of the many. The list is endless - time: fleeting and infinite, water: calm and tumultuous, nature: loving and unforgiving, tears: happy and joy.

I’m reminded of this woman whose beauty is etched into my memory because until now the words to communicate my thoughts escaped me. With this new understanding of duality, new appreciation is breathed into this moment stored. It was a windy day, something I only knew from the sporadic gusts of wind that would accompany guests as they entered into the space from the breezeway. One guest in particular came in with such a force of wind alongside her, her hair challenged gravity itself, staying airborne for what felt like eternity. Flowers rested in her hair, must have come in with the wind. Crystalline tears adorned her face like a set of jewels. She did not wear a smile, but her eyes told stories of long lost love and joy.

At first I assumed she was overcome with sadness, but as I recall this encounter she enters into a different light. She had the evanescence of a clear reflective sky, the radiant joy of the sun, and the solemnity of the moon.

Models: Grace Moon

Photographer: Audrey Franza

Styled by: Cameron Wallace

Location:

Informal Photo Studio Space Binghamton University

GOURDREAM ISTOBECRE ATIVEAND INSPIREO THERCRE

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SKY SUN MOON

Our dream is to be creative and inspire other creatives

Thank You.

To our readers, Rena’s Fall/Winter ‘22-’23 issue officially marks one full year of releases and operation as a magazine publishing organization. It has been a great sense of joy being able to actively work towards our dream of becoming a redefining force in the fashion editorial world. In our third installation we have challenged ourselves and been granted the most amazing opportunities to learn and grow as creatives and people. It is thanks to you all that we are reminded why we embarked on this journey over 365 days ago.

To our Binghamton community, thank you for welcoming us with open arms. It has been such a rewarding experience being able to watch as people are able to foster a sense of community and connection through Rena, and I truly believe it is a direct result of how receptive this campus and community has been. Thank you for giving us a chance, and listening to what we have to say. At the end of the day, this magazine is for all of you as much as it is for us.

To everyone in between, thank you for your patience as we do this awkward dance of life and fidget through the growing pains. We have so many big plans for both Rena on campus and beyond, and we cannot wait to share them. Some amazing things are planned for our Spring/Summer ‘23 Issue, so stay tuned, because you won’t want to miss it!

On a final note, we want you to remember that this started as a shared dream, and no one would have expected us to soar to these heights in the first year. Don’t ever stop dreaming, or think you don’t have enough time, because it only takes 120 minutes for the magic to happen.