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SUB MAG A


SUBMISSIONS MAGAZINE ISSUE FIFTY-SEVEN NOV/DEC 2014

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Tessa Goode Untitled

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Cassie Valencia Blue Eyes

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Xuan Zhang Different Representations of Me in an Imaginary Place Night Painting of My Dramatic Dream Please Love Me Street

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Roberto DeOliveira Happiness

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Hannah Onderdonk In this Lighting

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Elise Assenza Excerpts from Take Care of Yourself

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George Russ Holy Fuck

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Giancarlo Montes Home Human

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Alexa Dragonetti Blend Twisted

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Kayla Dale Burn

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FEATURE Feat. Introduction: Estephany Payano Photographs: Otto Ohle

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Phil Gibson Who Threw the First Stone

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Morgan Avery Bloodmoon

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Brittany Petronella Untitled

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Kenneth Miller Straggler

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Dennis Moore Im Blue

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Dani Llamas Gods Print Dover Print

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Justin Goodman Better Than Craiglist, Better Than Tinder Before Proteus

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Kelsey Sucena Keep Off The Last Freestanding Roy Rodgers

FRONT Giancarlo Montes BACK

Giancarlo Montes


TESSA GOODE

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BLUE EYES CASSIE VALENCIA 12: 06am – Got to the club okay. Only have to stay one hour just so I can tell Myrie that I gave this whole ‘moving on’ thing a chance. One hour and one phone number, she said, but I can just tell her that nobody’s interested. 12:12am – Okay, so apparently that would be a lie. A guy has already approached me and he did it the second I sat down. It’s like he was waiting all night for somebody to take this specific seat. 12:13am – He smells like a twelve-year-old who tried to cover up the smell of his older brother’s Axe spray with his father’s cheap cologne. He’s not bad-looking, though. 12:15am – I bet if I lit a match right now, this entire place would go up in flames, all because of Axe Bath here. 12:16am – I told him that my boyfriend just texted me that he’s on his way. He left without so much as a “goodbye”. Good riddance. 2

12:17am – He’s now chatting up the blonde on the other side of the bar who’s already three shots in and giggling like a child. I hope they’re happy together.

12:33am – I want leather pants. 12:34am – No I don’t. 12:36am – Thirty minutes down; thirty to go. I need another shot. 12: 37am – That burns like a bitch. 12: 40am – I tried to text Myrie but she refuses to respond. She just keeps sending me very angry and confusing emojis. 12:42am – What does the pile of poo mean? It looks happy, but it’s still shit. 12:44am – After the third text with that shit emoji, I stopped texting Myrie. I need another drink. 12:46am – Contestant number three has stepped up; they are neither a boy nor a girl. 12:47am – But I like that face; they have a really nice face. 12:49am – Parker; that’s their name; it’s a nice name. 12:50am – I let Parker buy me a drink and told them that their name matches their eyes.

12:20am – 46 minutes to go now. I’m gonna order some whiskey to pass the time.

12:51am – I might be drunk. Are four shots in forty minutes enough to get you drunk? I don’t think so.

12: 21am – This whiskey sucks.

12:53am – Maybe five is, though.

12:23am – Ah, here’s contestant number two now. She’s kind of cute.

12:54am – I told Parker that I’m seeing somebody (I neglected to mention that it’s Dr. Carmichael, my therapist). They understood.

12:25am – Blondie is playing with my fingers and stroking my hair. Actual quote: “Are you a natural brunette?” I can’t tell if it’s a joke. 12:26am – It wasn’t a joke. 12:27am – She has a cat named Lady Gaga; she’s a Siamese. 12:28am – She’s showing me pictures of Lady Gaga. I can’t wait to tell Myrie about this.

12:55am – I got Parker’s number; eat that, Myrie! 12:59am – Only seven more minutes. I’ve stopped drinking whiskey. Beer is fine, right? 1:00am – I’m going to be so sick tomorrow. I hope this is worth it. 1:03am – Has it been an hour yet?

12:30am – I used the “my boyfriend just texted me” excuse and she pouted like a child, but then shrugged and rushed off to the dance floor.

1:04am – What does it matter? I’m a fucking adult; I don’t have to stay here.

12:32am – Blondie found some hottie in tight leather pants to dance with.

1:06am – I’ve never been more happy for 1:06 in the morning in my entire life. Fuck everybody in here, I’m out.

1:05am – Just one more minute.


1:07am – Oh wow, she’s cute. I like her eyes; they’re like the ocean. 1:08am – Okay, yeah, I’m drunk. I should go. 1:09am – MOVE, FUCKERS! 1:10am – What asshole designed a building where you have to cross a crowded fucking dance floor at one in the morning when you may or may not be drunk because your best friend/roommate sent you to a bar to ‘move on’ just to get to the fucking ONLY EXIT IN THIS FUCKING STUPID ASS UNDERGROUND CLUB???!!! WHO?!?!

1:19am – Is it rude to tell her that I like her breasts? 1:19am – Douchebag has finally moved one. One of his dude bros dragged him away, pointing to two other “hotties” on the other side of the dance floor. It’s hilarious watching them try to maneuver through the crowd. Good luck, shitheads. 1:20am – I asked Blue Eyes if she was alright and she said yes. 1:20am – She called me her ‘tiny hero’. I like it. 1:21am – I offered to buy Blue Eyes a drink. 1:25am – Her name is Sarah.

1:11am – If there was any doubt that I was drunk before… 1:12am – Who’s that guy talking to Blue Eyes? He looks like a douchebag. 1:13am – He’s probably a douchebag. Blue Eyes is trying to shake him off but the dick can’t take a hint. 1:14am – Whoa! Hey! Don’t touch her, Douchebag! 1:15am – I am apparently not too drunk to walk a straight line…straight to Blue Eyes and Douchebag. 1:15am – Blue Eyes looks like she might punch me when I wrap my arm around her waist, but I’m sure that’s purely out of instinct. 1:16am – I explain to Douchebag that Blue Eyes is with me, but he doesn’t look like he believes it. 1:16am – Holy fuck! Blue Eyes confirmed it! She put her arms around my neck and told the guy that I was her ‘special friend’. 1:16am – Those blue eyes are prettier when they’re winking at me. I’m, like, 89% certain that it’s not a twitch. 1:17am – Blue Eyes presses her body against mine and Douchebag looks like he’s about to implode. My drunk brain is still trying to catch up to the rest of me. 1:18am – Douchebag is like a six-year-old, stomping his feet and yelling names at us that are very inappropriate for a sixyear-old—or anybody, for that matter—to say. 1:18am – It’s hard to care when Blue Eyes is pressed up against me like this. She’s taller than me by about five inches, but my head fits right under her chin.

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XUAN ZHANG

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XUAN ZHANG


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ROBERTO DEOLIVEIRA


IN THIS LIGHTING HANNAH ONDERDONK My lips are cooing in shapes like dear and deer and sweet, in ah’s and odes and destructive comparisons like ghosts playing tug of war with no rope burn. I am an arm’s length from ooo and you and today loving you feels like trimming one half inch off my hair everyday. I can’t see your mouth from here but I know it is dripping with salt and ‘go back to sleep’ in rounded o’s and I am wondering if maybe one day the edges of ourselves will drag against one another and we’ll grind to a halt on each other’s skin.

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ELISE ASSENZA


HOLY FUCK GEORGE RUSS He’s beautiful here. My head On his chest. His arms bow-tied Around my back, blooming into me. My bed is covered in moss. This moment has made us All we need to be.

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Sweet boy, I love you. I am not A man of god, but to you, I Could speak in tongues. My Spirit holy, our bodies divine Under this light. My heart The tabernacle, Open me and Reach inside. My blue will fade Into your pink. We will become A lavender beam. Light cannot be contained, It swallows everything In a closed room. I will never open my door again.


GIANCARLO MONTES

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GIANCARLO MONTES

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GIANCARLO MONTES


ALEXA DRAGONETTI

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BURN KAYLA DALE Every man I know Lost his mama as a boy I would let go I don’t see the glue on their hands And if it were there I would wash it off With water that burns I would slap ‘em down to size And then tell them what to learn I’d work real hard to pop their bubble Before they even blow I would be that missing mother To every boy I know I may eat too much sugar My teeth are black from the inside out But all the trouble I have Are problems I can solve by myself

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I don’t need a little girl to tell me That I have a purpose in life I can take my own cuts I can be my own knife And if they were there I would wash them off With water that burns I would position myself on one side And see which way those boys turn I would slap them real hard, tell em “I’m not tryin’ a make you be a man I’m just tryin’ a get you to understand” Think of how hard you’ve tried to conceal Every feeling you ever get But just remember for me Bandages are only good before they get wet That’s when you rip it off Cry (tell your friends you have a cough) Count one step for every eighty heartbeats Until you’re walking real slow And even if you are There is no real place you have to go

Yeah you can cross this bridge Only when you’re naked My saliva will deplete all your pain So uncross your legs You can cross this bridge And you’ll be done with your unrest But just remember, bring a fee There’s a troll living under my breast Every boy I know Lost themselves before they were They’ve forgotten how to love They’re comparing me with her And even if they were I’d wash ‘em off With water that burns If you don’t build the muscles, boys Then there’s butter you can’t churn I know how fun it is to sit And think of how you’ll never last But may I remind you boys How boyhood is all in the past You all work too hard To pop a different bubble Than you blow But before you decide to die, boys Tell me So I know.


FEAT. Purchase College prides itself in being a home for creativity and its students work hard to be innovators. In the following pages, SUBMAG talks to talented individuals from every discipline in the School of Art and Design—Graphic Design, Painting/Drawing, Photography, Printmaking, and Sculpture— as well as one from New Media. Get to know all about these artists, from their inspirations and aspirations to their favorite sandwiches!

INTRODUCTION BY ESTEPHANY PAYANO ARTIST PHOTOGRAPHS BY OTTO OHLE

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JEREMY RUIZ

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What is your work about?

PRINTMAKING


What’s currently on your playlist?

What do you love most about working in your medium and why?

If you knew when the world was going to end, what would be your last activity?

What do you plan to do after graduation?

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EMILY GRISBY What is your work about?

What’s currently on your playlist?

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SCULPTURE


What’s your favorite television show to binge watch?

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What or who are you most inspired by?

What do you plan to do after graduation?


COREY TEGLER If you knew when the world was going to end, what would be your last activity?

What do you love most about working in your medium and why?

What is your work about? 24

NEW MEDIA


What’s your favorite television show to binge watch?

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If you could only work in one color, what color would you choose and why?


SARAH BRODY

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PHOTOGRAPHY


What is your work about?

What’s currently on your playlist?

What’s your favorite television show to binge watch?

Who is your favorite artist right now?

What do you plan to do after graduation? 27


LUCCA ZERAY

PHOTO BY NICK BRUNO 28

GRAPHIC DESIGN


Who would you have dinner with, dead or alive?

What motivates you to improve yourself?

What is your work about?

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What do you plan to do after graduation?

If you knew when the world was going to end, what would be your last activity?


SIMON TOSKY What is your work about?

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What do you love most about working in your medium and why?

PAINTING & DRAWING


If you could only work in one color, what color would you choose and why?

What do you get on your hub sandwich?

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What do you plan on doing after graduation?


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PHIL GIBSON


BLOODMOON MORGAN AVERY that morning: shadow smell of quiet cigarette in broken hand broken long before this reaching became possible. that morning: your restless shiver of a looking glass body stared back at me in wordless understanding. now: shadow stumbles ignorantly alongside me his back turned to sunrise I locked in aching glare of neon light and bloodmoon

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BRITTANY PETRONELLA

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STRAGGLER KENNETH MILLER Reid thumps down a cup of whiskey, waking me, and asks, “What do you wonder?” The sunlight overlaying the Venetian blinds highlights the twist of his botched nose surgery. He’s here, officially. I lay in his bed, unresponsive. It’s nice to have company sometimes. I think of the last time I sat here—almost a year to date—and contemplated its actuality. He’s intimately, intimidatingly real—still. “You’re very cut and dry, daddy,” he says as we part, him to the coffee pot, me to the bathroom. The celibacy rodeo is coming to end, once again. It just did, more or less, than I’d like to admit. Thinking not only did I give it up then, but will now, moments within his wood.

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Reid sees me staring at the multiple posters his apartment-mates have plastered before their toilet. He comes up from behind and pulls at my ignored pubic hair while pointing out one in the corner. It’s one of his, he’s proud. “Morocco sounds like a cool place,” he searches for validation, moving on. “How about you? Where are you “metaphysically”?” The image showcases a train glossed over a sunset with beaches in the horizon. I can’t pretend, nodding in agreement. There is here. He inches down. “The south of France,” slips out. He grazes the sink, shaking the razor with remnants of shaving cream through the blades of a previous night. It’ll be there tomorrow, probably. “Would you want to meet up sometime this week? Maybe test out the dining hall again?” Reid laughs, like last night did not covet the same grace as it once had. As if his involvement within the situation posed no acclamation to our landing in his bed. I can’t pretend, he’s all over me. The stick outlasts the nights. I never end up taking these walks. Journeys are beyond the task of friendship.


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DENNIS MOORE


DANI LLAMAS

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BETTER THAN CRAIGSLIST, BETTER THAN TINDER JUSTIN GOODMAN Your wife doesn’t love you, just send a message. Try it before you jerk off. And ask to fuck. Flirt today. Women reply. Desperate & horny? Just message. No credit card, No bullshit. Local moms need anonymous SEX-buddy that works.

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Men join first online brothel too ugly for tinder, A website that gets you laid instantly: Fuck “Yes” women, yes, YOU. Fuck dating. Fuck tonight! First free fuck site. Browse bitches. I don’t care who you are, if you wanna fuck! Find a regular basis: I think we’re neighbors if the geo locator is right. Interested? Your wife will hate this site. Would you like to let me suck your dick? Please fuck me, No one will ever find out. Text me if u r interested.


BEFORE PROTEUS JUSTIN GOODMAN In the changing room at J. Crew my brother sweats into clothing Before Proteus. It’s tight like myths. In Sing Sing they only need “Fashionable and cheap” for solitary confinement, Nothing more lonesome than an unstable reflection. This shirt’s inflating contour, these Levi 511’s Mushroom love handles and the seeing it atomic, Like the sea, fission and fusion. He asked me what I thought, turning sluggishly, coated in Anxiety (On unavoidable discount). Wind blew through, His hurricane picked up warm water and grew stronger With nothing left to do but land. I liked it, so you know, but I said nothing when it Reached the port of my eye. From me no ship set sail. He was pinned and panoramic. I have always been my brother’s broken mirror. If clothing makes the man, sweat makes the clothing stick And trying on new clothes begins At sticking the landing.

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KELSEY SUCENA


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KELSEY SUCENA


SUBMIT EDITOR-IN-CHIEF BETH RUDIG ART DIRECTOR KRYSTALINA TOM SENIOR EDITORS LUCAS TROMBLEE, ESTEPHANY PAYANO COPY EDITORS AMBER FRASER, PATRICK MITCHELL LAYOUT EDITOR JESSICA DEANGELIS PUBLIC RELATIONS LINDSEY SIEBER PR INTERN CAROLINE HANDEL COPY INTERNS LOISA FENICHELL, MAX CORTINA LAYOUT INTERNS EMILY ALPERSTEIN, SHARILYN CASTILLO PHOTO EDITOR OTTO OHLE FACULTY SPONSOR STEVE LAMBERT

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PFBYM SAF

Profile for Submissions Magazine

ISSUE #57  

NOVEMBER / DECEMBER 2014

ISSUE #57  

NOVEMBER / DECEMBER 2014

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