MERAKI
EDITORS
ALANA CLARKE
ALANNAH BAEHR
ARHENIS SALCEDO
BRANDON PARK
GRAHAM SIMPSON
SZONJA HEGYI
SOPHIA ROMANIW
MERAKI
/ma’ra:ki/ [noun]
(Greek) Doing something with passion, love, and devotion, leaving a piece of yourself in whatever you create.
ALEXI WOLKOFF
ALIJAH SANFORD
CAMPBELL HUDKINS
CHLOE LAWRENCE
CLAIRE MASTELLA
GEORGE HUNT
JERRY BAO
KRISTIAN YAN
NYAH BAILEY-BURTON
SARIAH SHAWWAF
SYDNEY DRINAN
MODERN GREEK GODS
Polytheistic religions have always found a place in my curious brain. From my original obsession with Norse Myths in middle school to my current love for Greek and Roman Gods, the myths have had a great impact upon my life. These characters are my interpretation of what the Greek’s main 12 Olympians (+ a few more!) would be like if they were modern humans. Though I stayed away from making a Zeus, since many of the Olympians are always overshadowed by the King of the Skies, and I wanted to focus on the ones who may not be as well known. These pieces were done in conjunction with my Greek Literature unit in English II, so their personalities and appearances are based on their counterparts from the Odyssey, with a bit of inspiration from the Percy Jackson books and other medias retelling Greek myths.
APOLLO
APHRODITE POSEIDON DEMETER
Goddess of love
Celebrity Makeup Artist
Goddess of marriage
The CEO
Goddess of the sea Professional Lifeguard
Goddess of nature National Park Ranger
Goddess of the harvest Retired but runs a community garden
God of the dead and riches Prison Warden
HERA ARTEMIS HADES
BEING HUMANS
VYOM TIWARI ’25
why?
why am i a star given form, given shape, given thorns, given hands, and eyes, and a mind, so informed, left alone in a universe alone and forlorn why?
why give me a heart? why give me a world? so i can tear it apart? or put swine before pearls? i am matter i am solid, dense but why do i matter? why do i exist in this tense? in this time? in this dimension? with this life, unable to even pay attention in this universe from which i am born back
ceaselessly repeating these verses over and over, needlessly? what is it to be human? to fail, repeatedly? or to pick up a boulder over and over, needlessly, yes, perhaps thats it a tremendous expedition a journey where the travelers are made of the conditions oh, being human, what a wonderful thing thinking that you’re solid when you’re made of pure nothing
Teddy Linz ’27
Connor Hudkins ’28
Stone Visconi ’26
Sam Dugan
Henry Cheng
Henry Cheng ’27
CLEAN OF THE THRILL ALANNA DOLAN ’26
i need to feel i need to freeze the only thing that puts my mind to ease the fossette runs my mind sprints both in a race for pleasure my palms fiend the carry of the piercing water my morning flesh
addicted to the circulation the water ushers
i grew carless to the polished glow when my cleanser flossed my pores clean my pores weep deeply but the pounding of my head beats the roar of my pores the soapy layer of sanity interrupted the thrill of the bite my pores clogged for the rush to console my paralysis
i need to feel i need to freeze the only thing that puts my mind at ease.
Stone Visconti ’26
George Hunt ’25
Kazushi Kunimot ’27
Quinn Kiernan ’26
Robert Holcombe ’26
August Shapiro ’26
LLANOS ’25
True love has laid its grasp upon my heart,
For it alone did dwell within my mind.
No force nor fate could tear our souls apart,
Yet never did I know that love was blind.
Its care was bold and vast, a warming fire;
Yet pain of not-knowing began to swell.
Alone, I burned with silent, cold desire—
This lone wolf aches beneath the creeping chill.
My heart now shakes like tempests on the sea,
The hourglass nears its last grain of sand.
Time stands unmoved; my grief consumes all me,
While they, unbothered, fail to understand.
My heart first takes the fall, then comes the wall—
A failure I forever shall recall.
Quinn Kiernan ’26
Will Kotchen ’26
Stone Visconti ’26
Dev
Anand ’28
Will Gaulin ’26
Kennedy Pelletier ’25
Kazushi Kumimoto ’27
BLOOM ALANNA DOLAN ’26
if people are plants than females are flowers budding of beauty
their bodies of belle through every season
they perfume the world with love their hearts in bloom
Hana Takeshima ’27
Mackenzie Dutton ’26
Hana Takeshima ’27
Julie Ahn ’26
Will Kotchen ’26
Ashlyn Wills ’26
Larina Zhang ’27
Larina Zhang ’27
Lauryn Piela ’27
Teddy Linz ’27
Healy
Wendy Hu ’27
WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? VYOM TIWARI
are your teeth sharp? is your nose stout? do your eyes pierce, with a thousand dreams? is your stomach hungry and do you yearn for, flavors you’ve yet to taste? are you a royal stag in the winter months, waiting just to be crowned again? are you the white hawk who takes exactly what they want, and falls like lightning into the sea are you a leap frog hiding in a swamp, under moss and greenery?
are you a mountain goat or a mountain lion? are you the tree or just a scion?
just what kind of beast are you?
you could be a brilliant peacock with a harmonious flute, crowned with feathers and a rainbow suit, you could be a mighty lion respected and revered, and most above all, unanimously feared, you could be a dire wolf, hungry in the cold, catching the scents of which way next to go, you could be a beast with pain and savagery you could take just what you want and be entirely free or you could be a human no sharp claws or bared teeth but the very same hunger for bloody prime meat the same piercing eyes the same beating heart
longing for sweetness
no matter how tart but if you are human you will need to be tame for once you’re that beast you are never the same you will burn yourself down if you dont temper man’s flame
Leah Cha ’27
Lauren Wang ’27
TORAN SOUP EJ LEE ’26
Toran, the egg of the earth as we call it in Korea, represented something white in Korea. Where all the things were bleak and dark, when all wars came to our land, when people died off in want and famine, toran existed as a hope for people. As the grime-covered fingers peeled the dirt-stained skin, one mudcovered piece by piece, cracks of white shone, crack by crack one to a dozen and at last flowering into an oval of whiteness, another day of life shone into the hands of these soot-covered hands. Another day of remembrance would be etched into the minds of their sons and daughters. As we live in our world now, generations often forget what we remember. Like telehphone games, these memories lose their desperation, the color and vibrancy that represented the life of the Korea before now lay listlessly, floating in books and tablets, never to be found.
Quinn Kiernan ’26
Quinn Kiernan ’26
Lucas Li ’27
As I sat with Grandma and her Toran Gook, I never heard these stories. No word of the life before reached my ears, or anybody’s ears, as people never want the pain to continue through the generations. The warm hands of Grandma and the beef in the woup never existed in the old times; only a soot-covered piece of root vegeteable skewered in rotten sticks burned in the gasoline fire. No delicacy was in these hands, but a piece of forgotten history lay in the minds of these vibrant people, and to this day, only records exist without a word of the lost culture that no one craves.
One day, when I saw Grandma and told her this, she listened quitely, her eyes gleaming with a hint of something far away. She knew.
Lucas Li ’27
Lia Bazarian ’27
POTATO SALAD
A view of the ocean passed by, then the tunnels, then the highways, and at last, the city line of Seoul emerged in its bleak winter harshness. The edges of buildings scarped across my vision, grating against my eyes in careless ways. Nothing soft could exist in cities. If one had a rounded vision, the city carved it up, a cookie-cutter set of tools that make one rake across life with square tires. I realize this now that I live away from the city and again appreciate how hard it is to keep one’s softness in this angular world. However young I was when my grandma picked me up, I had an intimate sense of this fact, and the only edge that would not cut me when I approached, I knew, was the hands of grandma and her cooking. She had the feeling of something away from these cities could never corrupt. As I walked into the kitched and as she made her salad, I felt the warm glow of the yellowed lights on me, basking in the captured sense of nostalgia in the air. She brough all of everything in the world, piece of piece, in her travels across the seas and her life beyond the gray border. She brough all of it back into this city. I realize I can never hate this city now, with its ragged edges and its bleak winters. There is lavishness in this city that only the people knew, a memory from before the new things that held so much in people’s hearts. In the glow, my grandma offered a spoonful of her potato salad, with much mayo and potato and a topping of salted cucumbers and carrots. I tasted the silky smoothness of the mashed potato and the tang of the salted cucumbers. Of the quiet glean in her eyes as she taught me her recipe and my forlon piece of undercooked potato bits. I was home at last.
Teddy Linz ’27
Dory
Kylie Hoang ’28
Kate Kang ’28
Henry Cheng ’28
Jiyoo Kim ’28
Jiyoo Kim ’28
Mission
Suffield Academy is a coeducational independent secondary school serving a diverse community of boarding and day students. Our school has a tradition of academic excellence combined with a strong work ethic. A commitment to scholarship and a respect for individual differences guide our teaching and curriculum. We engender among our students a sense of responsibility, and they are challenged to grow in a structured and nurturing environment. The entire academic, athletic, and extracurricular experience prepares our students for a lifetime of learning, leadership, and active citizenship.
Non-Discrimination
Suffield Academy does not discriminate on the basis of sex, race, color, religion, creed, national or ethnic origin, citizenship, physical attributes, disability, age, or sexual orientation. We administer our admissions, financial aid, educational, athletic, extracurricular, and other policies so that each student is equally accorded all the rights, privileges, programs, and facilities made available by the school.
