The Ivy | #25 | December 2020

THE IVY ISSUE XXV | PHS

THE IVY

ISSUE N . 25 O

The Ivy began in the 1960s. Its serialization began in 2014.

Editors’ Letter

Dear Reader,

While these past few weeks have certainly been a whirlwind, you can now look forward to reading the fall issue of The Ivy! Can you believe this is our twenty-fifth issue?! Where has the time gone?

With the holidays just around the corner, we at The Ivy are thinking about how much there is to be thankful for. Above all, we are thankful for you, the reader, for your ongoing support and incredible submissions. We hope that you take some time as well to think about what you are thankful for as the days continue to shorten and the branches turn bare.

We have some exciting things in the works so be sure to stay tuned! You can follow our Instagram @theivy.phs and check out the website for updates. As always, feel free to shoot us an email at theivy.phs@gmail.com if you have any questions. A big thank you to our dedicated staff for their help in producing another wonderful issue. We are so grateful to have to the ability to continue producing during these crazy times.

Happy reading, Olivia and Alice

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Table of Contents

LAMINATION....................................................................6

Soorya A. Baliga

ICEBERG LAGOON....................................................22,23 Ellie Henry

PURPLEXED......................................................................7

Rebecca Krauss

OUR CHANGES................................................................24 Christopher Bao

HOPE.............................................................................8,9 Yunbing (Emily) Qian

BREAKFAST DISTRACTIONS........................................25 Skylar Schiltz-Rouse

JULY SUNSET OVER VERMONT............................10,11

Harmonie Ramsden

NEW LIGHT......................................................................26 Alice Feng

STEPPING STONES.......................................................12

Ruchi Mashruwala

UNTITLED....................................................................28,29 Kieran McKenzie

BREAKABLE.............................................................................13,15

Lana Swindle

CARNEGIE AT SUNSET..................................................30 Moriah Eley

FAVORITISM......................................................................31 UNTITLED.......................................................................................14

Carolina Kertesz Julie Benatar

COVER PAGE: ROOM, Allen Zhao ATLANTIC PUFFIN........................................................18 photography Charles McGrath

TITLE PAGE: SQUEEZE, Andy Ciardella GOING............................................................................20

block print

Heidi Gubser

MOTIONLESS ...............................................................21

Rachael Dewey

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LAMINATION, Soorya A. Baliga

Living off of stolen glances Out of focus Like a telescope displaying frustratingly indistinct stars Memories of blue eyes in the moonlight Visions of their shimmer as they blink out reflective rain Pitter-pattering through my mind I flip through the pages of my mental summer scrapbook They’ve never deserved this lamination before

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photography

PURPLEXED, Rebecca Krauss

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HOPE, Yunbing (Emily) Qian

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colored pencil and acrylic paint

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JULY SUNSET OVER VERMONT,

Harmonie Ramsden

photography

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photography

STEPPING STONES, Ruchi Mashruwala 12 | PHS

breakable (I), Lana Swindle The bubble was fragile. Breakable. One harsh movement and it would vanish forever, disappearing without a trace. Only the memory of it would remain once it was gone. It sat on my soapy hands, large enough for me to blow it off with the right amount of air speed. I brought my hands up to my mouth, blowing gently. The bubble shifted slightly, moving to the tip of where my hands were cupped together. I exhaled slowly, and it lifted off, floating in the air for a moment before drifting into the sink, where it sat. It remained standing despite being so fragile. I tilted my head at it. Some lasted longer than others.

I blinked at my reflection in the mirror, dark hair falling into my eyes. My shirt was sticking to my stomach; I was sweating.

We had been at it for hours, but our choreographer still wasn’t satisfied with our performance.

It was a difficult dance, and our angles didn’t match up; our movements were too sudden or

too sloppy. That’s what Michael said, anyway. I was regarded as the dancer of the group, the one who was supposed to be leading the group in the choreography, yet I was the one who received the harshest insults. I wasn’t sure why.

“He’s going to notice soon, you know.”

The door opened and I jumped, expecting to see Michael. It wasn’t beyond him to enter the bathroom if we were taking too long. The truth was, I wasn’t in here for necessity; I was here for a break. But when Sumiko emerged, I couldn’t help but sigh in relief. She was the one friendly face around here.

She seemed to acknowledge this, but didn’t break her gaze from my face. “You okay?”

“He probably already has.” I closed my eyes, able to feel the goosebumps rising on my arms. It was cold here. “I’ll come back in.”

“I’m fine.” My response was quick, unnatural. “Are you okay?”

Sumiko shrugged. “As okay as the rest of us, I guess.”

“Hey,” she said in her usual quiet voice, which was now laced with exhaustion. She wasn’t a dancer, never had been, and didn’t take the insults well. She took them to heart. “You’ve been in here a while.”

She was lying. I could tell.

I didn’t say anything after that, only washed my hands, splashed water on my face, and returned to the main room. My shoulders were tense, almost squared, as though I was preparing myself for the blow that I nodded slowly. “Just trying was to come. The mental, emoto get away for a few minutes, tional blow.

I guess.”

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UNTITLED, Julie Benatar

photography

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BREAKABLE (II), Lana Swindle Michael didn’t say anything, only penetrated me with his unreadable stare as I returned to the middle of the floor, where I was positioned for the choreography. “You’re not in the right spot.”

I swallowed, racking my brain as to where I should have been. The song we were dancing to played in my ears, but I couldn’t be sure of which part we were covering. It was funny. This was wasting more precious minutes of dancing than I blinked. Yes, I was. I tilted my time in the bathroom. “I’m my head, knowing better than sorry,” I said, because it was to respond to this statement. the only thing I could think of.

“Correct it, please.”

“What for?” His tone was cold.

I had absolutely no idea where I tilted my head up to meet I was supposed to be posi- his gaze. “For using the bathtioned if not the center. room.” I could hear the venom in my tone, though I wasn’t “Standing in the same spot is sure where it was coming hardly correcting your posi- from. Anger wouldn’t accomtion.” plish anything right now.

I could feel myself flushing.

“Where am I supposed to be?”

I asked quietly, timidly. I hated myself for succumbing to his authority.

“You would have known if you were here for the last five minutes.”

“Get out.”

His tone was quiet, calm, peaceful. Without a trace of anger or cruelty. But the two words made my heart sink, made tears sting my eyes, though I blinked them back.

“I-I’m sorry,” I whispered, tripping over my words in an attempt to keep my voice stable.

“I said, get out.”

I stared at the ground for a moment before nodding slowly. I exhaled shakily. “Okay.”

My voice was quiet as I made my way away from the dance studio, grabbing my bag and change of clothes. My heart He stared at me for a bit, a small was sinking: I didn’t know period of time that felt like an what would happen next praceternity. Disrespect wasn’t tol- tice. erated, not even with the kindest of teachers, and Michael Didn’t know if there would be was clearly on the other end a next practice. of the spectrum. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen and my heart was pounding.

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The Proof is in the Pizza

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photography

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ATLANTIC PUFFIN, Charles McGrath

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GOING, Heidi Gubser There is a lost traveller who searches For a trail that leads to the tree Where a bird perches In a field where glorious flowers of May Will guide him gently on his way To a Peaceful Home But the traveller is lost.

Lost, and when he peers ahead, He sees dark mountains and frost.

There are no stars, no moon, And, looking and watching, he soon Is exhausted.

He is reminded that he has been going For eons, and finding nothing.

When will the sound of crows crowing Be replaced by the sunny song Of the bird in the field; how long Until he sees the glorious flowers?

Nevertheless, the traveller travels; He painfully endures and continues As his story slowly unravels.

He looks into the dark mountains and frost And knows that, although he is lost, Hope is not.

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MOTIONLESS, Rachael Dewey photography

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ICEBERG LAGOON, Ellie Henry photography

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our changes, Christopher Bao reflecting upon the zeitgeist of the millenium you think of perhaps the neon lights quietly glowing under the downpour of rain from the dark clouds the rushed passerby huddled under slick coats faces looking at wet pavement but all you hear is silence or the clothing in windows (maybe even fifth avenue) modeled by faceless mannequins onlookers gazing enviously even viciously in at symbols of wealth but all they see is blankness news that is fake—no real—but fake real real fake real fake shouting noise and phrases without meaning to make us feel without questioning but all we feel is hopelessness and as we slowly break crash fragment shatter we fall apart 24 | PHS

BREAKFAST DISTRACTIONS, Skylar Schiltz-Rouse

mixed media

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NEW LIGHT, Alice Feng 26 | PHS

photography

We would like to dedicate Issue 25 to our advisors, Mr. Gonzalez and Ms. Muça—The Ivy would not be the same without them!

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UNTITLED, Kieran McKenzie photography

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CARNEGIE AT SUNRISE, Moriah Eley photography

carnegie carnegie at at sunrise sunrise moriah moriah eleyeley

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FAVORITISM, Carolina Kertesz Is there irony sweeter than that of the dad being the favorite of the dog he wished not to have?

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SEND US YOUR AD!

theivy.phs@gmail.com

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STAFF LIST ADVISORS Mr. Gonzalez Ms. Muรงa

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF Olivia Benevento Alice Feng

CREATIVE DIRECTOR Yunbing (Emily) Qian

MANAGING EDITORS Cecily Gubser Shaila Sachdev Savannah Spring

PUBLIC RELATIONS Sofia Alvarez

COPY EDITORS Christopher Bao Irene Dumitriu Heidi Gubser

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TECHNOLOGY Lindsay Hirschman

BUSINESS Lawrence Chen Travis Thai

SECRETARY Delaney McCarty

WORKSHOP COORDINATOR Hillary Allen

SPREAD DESIGNERS Abigail Bao Scarlett Cai Bella Cui Sky Jo Anish Lahiri Jane Lillard Ruchi Mashruwala Hanaan Sikder Lana Swindle

COLOPHON The artworks in this issue were accepted through standard review board voting and group discussion. During this process, the artists’ names were kept anonymous to everyone besides the managing editors, who had compiled all of the submissions beforehand. Each staff member voted anonymously either “yes” or “no” on a Google form. All art and literature pieces with higher than 50% approval were published. We keep a consistent art-to-literature ratio. We are Princeton High School’s only art and literature magazine. We are an extracurricular club that meets after school; on normal meeting days we meet for half an hour on Tuesdays.

When we are designing layouts we meet for three hours every day for four days. For Issue XXV, the initial distribution took place online.

FONTS COVER AND TITLE PAGE| Minion Pro 60pt, 12pt, Lora 14pt CONTENTS | Lora 11pt, 14pt, 24pt SUBMISSION TITLES | Open Sans light 18pt, 24pt, Minion Pro 18pt SUBMISSION TEXT | Open Sans light 12pt, 18pt, Minion Pro 13pt STAFF LIST | Open Sans semibold 13pt, Open Sans light 24pt, Open Sans bold 24pnt COLOPHON | Minion Pro 13pt

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