Inscape 2022: Ursuline College's Fine Arts Annual by Ursuline College

Untitled Nicola Ehrbar

Inscape 2022 Volume LIV

Mission Statement Inscape, Ursuline College’s fine arts annual, provides all students the chance to have their work seen, heard, and recognized. It is a place where imagination is prized and celebrated, and we hope to highlight each contributor’s individuality and differences within our publication.

Ursuline’s 150th Anniversary This year, Inscape is very excited to celebrate Ursuline College’s 150th anniversary. The themes for this year’s magazine were empowerment, legacy, spirituality, and education. These are all words that exemplify what it means to be a part of the Ursuline community, past, present, and future. We are incredibly proud to celebrate the legacy of this historic institution by featuring pieces that capture the values, voice, and vision of the school. We are honored to feature many submissions from Ursuline alumnae alongside current students, faculty, and staff. We are honored to have the opportunity to represent the creativity, talent, and perspectives of the Ursuline community within the pages of this magazine.

Editorial Statement Dear Ursuline College, We, the 2022 editorial team, are delighted to bring you the LIV edition of Inscape. We are dedicated and committed to showcasing Ursuline College’s creativity and unity in this publication. This magazine is for everyone—not just for the students of the humanities. It is designed to capture the essence of the era and to be shared with Ursuline College and the world. This year we are celebrating Ursuline’s 150th anniversary and Inscape features work from alumnae, faculty, staff and current students that capture Ursuline’s values both past and present. It is our wish that Ursuline’s collective creativity is recognized by both the campus and the greater community. We hope that readers see the impact of both the realistic and imaginative documentation of the time and our optimistic strive to move forward!

Ursuline College 2550 Lander Road Pepper Pike, Ohio 44124 (440) 449-4200 | www.ursuline.edu

Inscape, Ursuline College’s fine arts annual, is published every spring. The views expressed herein do not necessarily reflect those of the staff or Ursuline College. Inscape considers poetry, fiction, plays, autobiographical sketches, essays, reviews, photography, and artwork for publication by students, faculty, and staff. The editorial staff reviews all submissions anonymously using a system of blind peer-review. No more than five works may be submitted by an individual. Literary works for Inscape 2023 may be sent to Inscape, c/o the English Department, Ursuline College, 2550 Lander Road, Mullen 338, Pepper Pike, OH 44124 from September 2022—January 2023. Please submit an electronic copy to katharine.trostel@ursuline.edu with a cover sheet for each work that includes name, phone number, the title of the work, and a short autobiographical sketch. All literary submissions become the property of Inscape and will not be returned. Inscape 2022 is printed on 8.5 x 11 inch paper. Each piece was formatted in Adobe InDesign. Font style for: titles, Leyton; page numbers, Times New Roman; subtitles, Ravensara Sans; medium/genre, copy text, Times New Roman. Inscape 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, and 2012 earned a First Place with Special Merit Award from the American Scholastic Press Association; Inscape 1999, 2002, 2003, and 2006 earned the Most Outstanding College Literary-Art Magazine Award from the American Scholastic Press Association. Inscape 2012, 2013, and 2014 received a First-Class rating and Inscape 2015 received the All-American Award from the Associated Collegiate Press. Inscape 2021 recieved the Sigma Tau Delta award for an Outstanding Literary Arts Journal. Ursuline College has published a fine arts annual since the spring of 1945. From this date till 1952, the annual was known as The Review. When the members of Inscape, Ursuline’s literary society, assumed responsibility for the publication of The Review in 1965, they renamed it Inscape. The term “inscape,” coined by English poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, can be described as: He [Hopkins] looked hard at things until they looked back at him, revealing within the process the mysterious, glorious, and sometimes terrible presence of God who stood behind and within nature. He understood the visual image to be reflexive, both a window on the world and a mirror of the created and creative self. This quality of “inscape” in a particular work was for him the touchstone of good art, what distinguishes inspired art from slick or poorly conceived offerings. Michael Flecky, SJ Originally published in America December 10, 1994

Inscape 2022 Volume LIV

Ursuline College 2550 Lander Road Pepper Pike, Ohio 44124 (440) 449-4200 | www.ursuline.edu

Table of Contents Cover Art

Pages 16-17

Pages 30-31

Pages 44-45

“Soon There Will Be Cherries”, Poetry, Maureen B. Johnson

“Her Legacy”, Prose, Haleigh Platt 2021

“The Following Day”, Poetry, Lilyka Pickard “Creating Resiliency”, Drawing, Sabryna Kuehls

Page 1

“Tree Swing”, Painting, Ursula Messina

Pages 32-33

Pages 18-19

“Empowering Genuineness”, Poetry, Tamar Nussbaum

“Beauty Lies Within”, Painting, Kayla Hensel

“A Belated Thank You”, Poetry, Eileen Delaney Kohut

“Let Me See You”, Photograph, Evey McKellar

“An Attitude of Gratitude”, Poetry, Jeanette Haug 1961

“Untitled”, Pencil Drawing, Nicola Ehrbar Pages 2-3

1968

Front Matter

Pages 20-21

Pages 4-5

“Tanzanite Dreams”, Poetry, Olivia Cooney

Table of Contents

“Skin Tag”, Mixed Media, Autumn Sierra-Holloway

Pages 6-7

Pages 22-23

“Andrias Japonicus”, Ink Drawing, Rachel Neal

“Reliance”, Poetry, Laci Gross 2019

“This Is Education”, Poetry, Malia Ali

“Self Care”, Painting, Ursula Messina Pages 24-25

Pages 34-35 “Baby Deer”, Photograph, Rosaria Perna “First and Last”, Poetry, Mimi Pipino Pages 36-37 “For Stephanie”, Poetry, Laci Gross 2019 “Oma in the Meadow”, Drawing, Lauren Ferns Pages 38-39

Pages 8-9

“Untitled”, Poetry, Sayble Bradley

“Dear Black Boy”, Poetry, Sayble Bradley

“Lily Study No. 1”, Painting, Madeline Vanhorn

“Manifesting”, Drawing, Ava Gleason

“Wisdom Women”, Collage, Angy Hanon

“Into Infinity”, Poetry, Jacob Waldenmaier

Pages 26-27

Pages 40-41

“Beside Still Waters”, Painting, Johnna Buenaventura

“Painting in the Sky”, Poetry, Linda Masek 1969

Pages 10-11 “Happy Healing”, Mixed Media, Mary Price

“Knitting God: Incarnatus Est”, Poetry, Sister Miriam Fidelis 2001 w/ MA

“Strong, Tired, & Exhausted”, Pencil Drawing, Taylor Wiegand

“Eye Reading”, Poetry, Tamar Nussbaum

“Values, Voice, Vision”, Prose, Eileen Dixon

“Drawn”, Poetry, Maureen B. Johnson

Pages 12-13

“Still Seeking”, Drawing, Barbara Murnane

“Handle With Care”, Painting, Alivia Rovder

* The Spirituality collage contains images from a mural created by Chloe Becker. This includes the photo of Thea Bowman and the image in the top right corner.

“Blanket Mandala”, Fibers, Megan Fortney

Pages 42-43

“Gloss”, Poetry, Heather Bloeser 2021 “An Unoriginal Thought”, Poetry, Ashley Serraglio 2020 Pages 14-15 “As You Are”, Painting, Sarah Osvath

Pages 28-29

Pages 46-47 “Half A Year”, Painting, Sam Utterback Pages 48-49 “The House”, Poetry, Lilyka Pickard “Slow Me Down, Oh Lord”, Poetry, Ruth Bakonyi 1982 Pages 50-51 “Soli Deo Gloria Garden”, Poetry, Malia Ali “Po Bubbles”, Painting, Desiree Bullock Pages 52-55 High School Writing Contest Pages 56-57 Contributors Pages 58-59 Editors & Credits Collages, graphics, and illustrations created by Joy Dodak on pages 7, 15, 18, 22, 27, 30, 40, 48.

“Ursula”, Poetry, Jacob Waldenmaier “Ave Maria”, Painting, Mary Price

Contributors who have won this year’s submission contest have been highlighted by a fleur-de-lis.

“Saturday Sun”, Painting, Cailin Jaspers “Illumination”, Poetry, Lilyka Pickard

Table of Contents Cover Art

Pages 16-17

Pages 30-31

Pages 44-45

“Soon There Will Be Cherries”, Poetry, Maureen B. Johnson

“Her Legacy”, Prose, Haleigh Platt 2021

“The Following Day”, Poetry, Lilyka Pickard “Creating Resiliency”, Drawing, Sabryna Kuehls

Page 1

“Tree Swing”, Painting, Ursula Messina

Pages 32-33

Pages 18-19

“Empowering Genuineness”, Poetry, Tamar Nussbaum

“Beauty Lies Within”, Painting, Kayla Hensel

“A Belated Thank You”, Poetry, Eileen Delaney Kohut

“Let Me See You”, Photograph, Evey McKellar

“An Attitude of Gratitude”, Poetry, Jeanette Haug 1961

“Untitled”, Pencil Drawing, Nicola Ehrbar Pages 2-3

1968

Front Matter

Pages 20-21

Pages 4-5

“Tanzanite Dreams”, Poetry, Olivia Cooney

Table of Contents

“Skin Tag”, Mixed Media, Autumn Sierra-Holloway

Pages 6-7

Pages 22-23

“Andrias Japonicus”, Ink Drawing, Rachel Neal

“Reliance”, Poetry, Laci Gross 2019

“This Is Education”, Poetry, Malia Ali

“Self Care”, Painting, Ursula Messina Pages 24-25

Pages 8-9

“Untitled”, Poetry, Sayble Bradley

“Dear Black Boy”, Poetry, Sayble Bradley

“Lily Study No. 1”, Painting, Madeline Vanhorn

“Manifesting”, Drawing, Ava Gleason

“Wisdom Women”, Collage, Angy Hanon

“Into Infinity”, Poetry, Jacob Waldenmaier

Pages 26-27

Pages 40-41

“Beside Still Waters”, Painting, Johnna Buenaventura

“Painting in the Sky”, Poetry, Linda Masek 1969

Pages 10-11 “Happy Healing”, Mixed Media, Mary Price

“Knitting God: Incarnatus Est”, Poetry, Sister Miriam Fidelis 2001 w/ MA

“Strong, Tired, & Exhausted”, Pencil Drawing, Taylor Wiegand

“Eye Reading”, Poetry, Tamar Nussbaum

“Values, Voice, Vision”, Prose, Eileen Dixon

“Drawn”, Poetry, Maureen B. Johnson

Pages 12-13

“Still Seeking”, Drawing, Barbara Murnane

“Handle With Care”, Painting, Alivia Rovder

* The Spirituality collage contains images from a mural created by Chloe Becker. This includes the photo of Thea Bowman and the image in the top right corner.

“Blanket Mandala”, Fibers, Megan Fortney

Pages 42-43

“Gloss”, Poetry, Heather Bloeser 2021 “An Unoriginal Thought”, Poetry, Ashley Serraglio 2020 Pages 14-15 “As You Are”, Painting, Sarah Osvath

Pages 28-29

“Ursula”, Poetry, Jacob Waldenmaier “Ave Maria”, Painting, Mary Price

Contributors who have won this year’s submission contest have been highlighted by a fleur-de-lis.

“Saturday Sun”, Painting, Cailin Jaspers “Illumination”, Poetry, Lilyka Pickard

This is education Andrias Japonicus Rachel Neal

Malia Ali

Learning is an Art. Beginning with an interest, a concern, that drives the mind to investigate, answer the questions left unturned. Encountering experienced artists, obtaining a lesson on, how to think rather than what to think. This is Education. Progress towards progression, developing empathy, understanding etiology. The value of foundational concepts, problem-solving, and language. This is Growth. Literature, Universal collection, yearning for interpretation, creating a space for shared knowledge. This is Power. Continuous place for artists, to develop physically, intellectually, socially, and morally. This is Expression. Dedication to unity, to be strengthened, through a community. Promoting inclusivity, to explore the opportunities. This is Knowledge. Creativity, an interactive image for all, To add to the narrative. To share. To enjoy.

This is education Andrias Japonicus Rachel Neal

Malia Ali

Wisdom women Angy Hanon

Dear black boy Sayble Bradley

Dear black boy… Where is your joy? What happened to your sense of wonder, And your peace with who you are? Once, they called you a king, boy. Once upon a time you could be anything. You, chief of tribes and king of kingdoms. You, sun-kissed god amongst sunless thieves. Black boy who took your happiness... Was it lost somewhere at sea? Is it shackled on a sunken ship?

Swinging, in the breeze, from a poplar tree?

Black boy where is your freedom,

You inspire outrage,

What happened to your “carefree”?

Hatred,

Son of mother, Head of household, You, protector of family. Tell me where did you go, boy? Are you in an early grave? Your gold skin riddled with gold-badged bullets, Or like a dog, locked in a cage? You, Kendrec McDade... You, Kimani Gray…

Fear, Rampage. They wish to whitewash your melanin, Remove your roots from your DNA. Dear Black boy they hate you, Your entire being, despised. For even in death, young king, You are eternal, This world fears the power, You have yet to realize.

Unarmed little Black boy, With your disparaged little black boy name.

Wisdom women Angy Hanon

Dear black boy Sayble Bradley

Swinging, in the breeze, from a poplar tree?

Black boy where is your freedom,

You inspire outrage,

What happened to your “carefree”?

Hatred,

Unarmed little Black boy, With your disparaged little black boy name.

Happy Healing Mary Price

Values, Voice, vision Eileen Dixon

When I entered Ursuline in the summer of 2000, our school motto was Values, Voice and Vision. The saying was very appropriate. During my eight years there, my self-worth increased and self-expression expanded. Surprisingly, even though I dealt with serious personal situations, my general outlook on life and desired expectations were positive, all due to values experienced or learned on campus. In addition, I grasped Proverbs 29:18, “Where there is no vision, the people perish” (KJV). Values Building self-worth began almost immediately. One of my first assignments was to prepare a presentation titled, “Who am I?” None of us knew where to begin. Nobody knew who they were. The class age span was eighteen to sixty plus, but we were all the same academic age. The professor gave us a list of ideas to help stir our thinking. We were all shy and uncomfortable about standing in front of the class. By the time I graduated, I could not wait to present. Then, there was the value of being on campus, enjoying the community of other students and faculty. Our campus was modest in size, beautiful, quiet and serene — good for healing. And of course, one is unable to put in words the total value of a secondary education. Voice With each successive presentation, I gained confidence along with sharpened communication skills. The education process helped me become aware of the inventive and expressive sides of myself. I was more confident and assertive. When you graduate, you feel like you can really “hold the bull by the tail.” That possibly increases with youth. Vision When I graduated, I had research and computer skills I could build upon. I set attainable personal goals. I wanted to teach and have the opportunity to present PowerPoint presentations. Although things didn’t turn out as I hoped, in 2007, I had the pleasure of teaching Radiographic Positioning as an adjunct professor for one semester at Cuyahoga Community College. Guess what? I made presentations for all my classes.

Strong, Tired, & Exhausted Taylor Wiegand

Happy Healing Mary Price

Values, Voice, vision Eileen Dixon

Strong, Tired, & Exhausted Taylor Wiegand

Handle With care Alivia Rovder

An Unoriginal thought Ashley Serraglio

I came to a realization once: Not a grand one, that rocks your world, Rips the doors from their hinges and Leaves your existence shattered; But a small one, a simple one, the Kind that are the true revelations to Life, and living it.

Gloss

Heather Bloeser We’re a manuscript thrown to the fire Pained and strained from a brain gone haywire And I prayed that we’d gloss over the past But our former tact had been tainted fast You said you learned lots from our shaky days Even if that’s fake, I learned just the same That predictions prepare me for nothing Should take a breath when my words are jumbling Speaking my needs left my stomach churning Your apathetic actions, heavy, hurting These facts are lessons I’m letting sink in As I face my fear, sadness and chagrin Now I’m beginning to wake up alright All free from the fuss and the fight-or-flight I’m still not able to gloss over things But maybe I will buy the paint by spring

It wasn’t anything so impressive as an Original Thought, or a moral crisis. Rather, a thought that had been Bouncing, thrashing, caught In the nets of my psyche and waiting, Pleading, for freedom from that capture. Waiting for the right moment, instant, The right inflection on the right words For it to be free to settle, curled in The depths of truth like a cat in a sunbeam. It occurred to me, in those perfect conditions: When you are a survivor, when you Chose life when you could have Chosen respite, death, when that was Set before you and you turned toward The infamous Light that burns. That wasn’t a one-time choice. That was you, committing to a lifetime Of every day, every second, making that Same. Exact. Choice. Over, and over, and over again until The choice is no longer yours to make And Fate steps in on her wings of Steel to take your option from you at last.

Handle With care Alivia Rovder

An Unoriginal thought Ashley Serraglio

Gloss

As you are Sarah Osvath

Saturday Sun Cailin Jaspers

illumination Lilyka Pickard

Your laugh illuminates my life. Your eyes remind me of the moon, A source of light in the darkness of night. Unlike others, You entered without destruction. Yet you still broke down walls. Silently, Without notice. And here I am, Falling, Like I’ve fallen from the moon. I can’t help but keep my eyes fixed on you.

As you are Sarah Osvath

Saturday Sun Cailin Jaspers

illumination Lilyka Pickard

Tree Swing Ursula Messina

Soon there will be cherries Maureen B. Johnson

Soon there will be cherries. The aging tree is overflowing with blossom. Never before, even in its youth, such abundance. Trees that blocked the sun are gone. The LIGHT is lapped up greedily by branches long too-wintered. A bounty of white moves to the touch of wind and rain. Soon there will be cherries. Enough to share with the songbirds, enough to share with the selfish squirrels and jays, enough to share with the neighborhood children, enough to share with the city workers who reach and eat, enough to share with the helpful neighbors who sneak a red sweetness, and enough for my children and grandchildren who have embraced the old tree with a hug and a climb and a swing. Enough bounty, including ME, who stands as witness to the power of the LIGHT. Soon there will be cherries!

Tree Swing Ursula Messina

Soon there will be cherries Maureen B. Johnson

A Belated Thank You Eileen Delaney Kohut

In 1964, I arrived at Ursuline College via two bus lines east, a first generation, day student. Not quite sure of my future, I first visited the college after my acceptance came; at $600 a semester (20 credit hours), it was an affordable degree for a city kid. From the earliest days in Cedar Hill mansions, it was a good fit, like worn penny loafers, 400 young women and their teachers cheerfully supported each other regardless of rank. Rigorous classes were sandwiched between smiles, and humor sweetened all conversation. Close to the cultural heart of Cleveland, my equally impressed friends, eagerly showed me nearby museums and the bright Tiffany windows shining in the shadow of Garfield’s tall tomb. Enrollment increased as the boomer generation grew older, and after two years, Pepper Pike’s rugged rural space housed brand new buildings that slowly became home to more of us. Those years were an odyssey in every way. My Ursuline experience became so much more than a degree to me. I now unashamedly admit: It gave me the opportunity to identify the life I wanted and the woman I wanted to be. It became the foundation for many choices that unfolded with the years. My good parents gave me faith and a work ethic, but the Sisters gave so much more: Freedom to think and to question and to dream and create, Scraping and molding like sculptors, they shaped my sleeping, green mind, Made envision possible. Dedicated and experienced professors shared their keen knowledge, wisdom, and wit with me: I learned the craft of writing (which served me well.) I learned the art of teaching. I learned academic discipline. (I learned how much I didn’t know.) America erupted in the sixties, but we were optimistic and hopeful. Our teachers had given us confidence in our womanhood, our worth and ability to contribute; Our classmates were women of intelligence, ambition, and spirit. My years on those two Ursuline campuses yielded such rich gifts: Lifelong friends whose company I still cherish A profession to which I gave my life and loved every new day

An undeniable sense of self, guided, I believe, by a good heart. Thank you.

A Belated Thank You Eileen Delaney Kohut

An undeniable sense of self, guided, I believe, by a good heart. Thank you.

Skin tag

Autumn Sierra-Holloway

tanzanite dreams Olivia Cooney I only asked for diamond dreams, But you said they weren’t rare enough. So, I reimagined my dreams; Made them of emeralds and sapphires and rubies. But still, you dismissed them. Finally, I suggested Tanzanite, one of the rarest dreams to have. You suggested cubic zirconia, worth less than my diamond dreams, And told me I should be happy without any gemstone dreams. I finally realized the truth: You didn’t want me to dream bigger. You didn’t want me to dream at all. So, I left you behind with your worthless dreams of cubic zirconia and nothingness. And I went and mined my own Tanzanite.

Skin tag

Autumn Sierra-Holloway

Self Care Ursula Messina

Reliance Laci Gross

The Stars looked to the Moon and asked, “Where does your power come from?” And the Moon looked to the Sun and asked, “Where does your power come from?” And the Sun looked to the Earth and asked, “Where does your power come from?” And the Earth looked to the Oceans and asked, “Where does your power come from?” And the Oceans looked to the Fish and asked, “Where does your power come from?” And the Fish looked to the young Girl feeding them and asked, “Where does your power come from?” Bewildered, yet filled with wonder, she looked to her Mother and asked, “Momma, where does your power come from?” The Mother smiled wearily, her face already marked with Time’s battle lines, and looked up to the starry night sky.

Self Care Ursula Messina

Reliance Laci Gross

untitled Sayble Bradley

Manifesting Ava Gleason

She was often compared To the night sky. Tragically unseen, Unappreciated beauty. And like the darkness, She was immense. She was wisdom and She was vast emotion. I was drawn to her... Like tides to the moon And dreams of personal perfections Forgotten all too soon. But night, it fades Replaced by day. Unseen, my love, She fades. She was often compared To the night sky. Undetected Unfathomable Perfection.

untitled Sayble Bradley

Manifesting Ava Gleason

eye reading Tamar Nussbaum

Beside still waters Johnna Buenaventura

Hello Nurse, You are covered in a long blue gown Protected from your head down A face shield surrounds your head like a crown Your face is masked behind a smile, scowl, or frown I try to read your hidden expression As you make a lasting impression How are you perceiving me— My concerns, needs, and personality? I scan your face for a clue Spotting the lenses that you peer through It’s through your eyes That demonstrate joy, fear, and surprise Your eyes portray a lot Worry, sadness, joy—a happy thought It’s not that hard to sense What your deep eyes express I’ve learned a new language “Eye-reading” learned in the pandemic atmosphere “Eyes are the mirror to the soul” They play an integral role In your eyes, I can sense If you are calm, happy, or tense Your colleagues learn when to jump in and assist From the way your eyes widen or wince

So dear nurse, please realize How much is dependent in your eyes Eye contact is something that I need As we continue to “Eye-read”

eye reading Tamar Nussbaum

Beside still waters Johnna Buenaventura

So dear nurse, please realize How much is dependent in your eyes Eye contact is something that I need As we continue to “Eye-read”

Still Seeking

Barbara Murnane

Drawn

Maureen B. Johnson He is drawn across the room to the painting. She is pulled from the worn wooden bench in the middle of the gallery. They know this piece is something more. That exact moment when clouds part and frame the moon, the moon sheds its light on the river, the water reflects it upward to the limestone tower shaped by the river caught captured by an artist who knows the difference between raw umber, alizarin crimson and titanium white. Side by side they stand and yet they are alone on the bank of a deftly painted canvas with an artist who knows painting moonlight

blanket mandala Megan Fortney

is very different than painting sunlight an artist who can seduce two people closer and closer and closer still drawn to that solitude like the clouds to the moon the moon to the river the river to the valley.

Still Seeking

Barbara Murnane

Drawn

blanket mandala Megan Fortney

Her Legacy Haleigh Platt

Legacy is a word I don’t think about often; it seems so extravagant and unattainable at times. After the loss of my grandmother, what it means to leave a legacy became very clear to me. Athletes, writers, dignitaries, and so many others leave legacies that generations of people can value. But I believe a family legacy holds so much more weight than that. It is true that we never quite value someone enough until they are gone; it is human nature, but a shame. We don’t see how wonderful our kingdom is until the queen falls. But her legacy will live on through us, it always will. Finding the words to express what I want to is difficult; no amount of preparation dulls the ache of death, even one that is expected. I wish I was older, that I had more time and that I could’ve learned the things about her that my cousins did. With that said, twenty-two years with her was more than enough for me to capture the kind of person she was. My grandmother was ahead of her time to say the least. She chased after the things she wanted even if it didn’t fit society’s mold of what a woman was meant to do and she did so with pride. She believed in what was right and fair and she always wanted what was best for her family. Family was the most important thing to her; she didn’t need anything else but us and the memories we made stood out against anything materialistic. Her home always smelled of sweets and food ready for us when she knew we were coming. Even when she wasn’t expecting anyone, she welcomed us with a smile brighter than the sun. She left each one of us with a life full of memories and love to hold onto until we can see her again one day. I believe that part of what makes a legacy so powerful are those who emulate that person so it can live on. I never felt like my personality matched that of my parents, but as I grew older, I realized it was my grandmother who I was most like. She was never afraid to speak her mind and let someone know when she didn’t approve, and we all knew to listen and occasionally laugh. My grandmother found comfort in silence; she didn’t mind being alone as long as she had Sudoku puzzles, books, and TV. She loved to learn new things and had an extremely curious mind; perhaps that’s where I found my love for education. Something I will never understand is that she didn’t know how much of an impact she had on her family and friends. We all held her in such a high regard but she remained humble and always said that she was just being herself. Even in old age and dealing with medical issues, she was always attentive to others and willing to give anything she could to help. My grandmother was and is the strongest person I know and I carry that strength and perseverance with me knowing she is walking next to me every step of the way. I’m not religious, but I know she is my guardian angel, shaping my character even from beyond the grave. My father and I went to see her the day before she passed. I knew her time was coming, and I didn’t want her to leave without me saying goodbye. Seeing her for the last time was heartbreaking, but I’ll never forget the love I felt radiate from her despite how weak she was. The two things she always told me whenever we would visit were that she loved me and that she was proud of me. Struggling with low self-esteem and low confidence, hearing those words from her always made me feel better. I knew that I could do anything because my grandmother was proud of me. She was proud of her family and she was proud to be a Platt. Her legacy continues in our family; it’s in me and being a Platt is something I will cherish forever.

Rest in Paradise Nancy Jane Platt 11/14/1929 — 9/26/2021

Her Legacy Haleigh Platt

Rest in Paradise Nancy Jane Platt 11/14/1929 — 9/26/2021

Empowering Genuineness

Let Me see you Evey McKellar

Tamar Nussbaum You’ll see it in her smile Feel it in her warm hugs Her genuine love of mankind Her love is boundless She sees through the exterior Straight through to your soul Genuine. Positive. Alive. Her hugs penetrate the toughest exteriors Her enthusiasm turns frowns upside-down She doesn’t pretend to be someone she’s not If only more people were like her It pains me when others don’t see past her diagnosis When she is viewed merely by her “label” It rips me apart when people don’t appreciate her Even a fraction as much as she loves them To me, her lucky mother Her disability is actually a unique ability An advantage, a rare gift The world would be a much better place If we learn from our special children And embrace them as tightly as they embrace us!

Empowering Genuineness

Let Me see you Evey McKellar

First and last baby deer Rosaria Perna

Mimi Pipino

The first time (you) Sprouted a tooth (8 months old, drooly and sore) Spoke a word (Ariel, the name of our golden retriever/yellow lab) Took steps (15 months old—a late bloomer like your mom) Got a haircut (2 years old, soft blonde curls falling gently, a red lollipop tight in your grip) Slept in your “big girl” bed, went to school, walked home from the bus stop alone

Firsts recorded as words in your baby book, images in a photo album, commemorated and celebrated.

The last time (I) Gave you a bath Read you a bedtime story and snuggled you off to sleep Picked you up and held you in my arms Tied your shoes Dressed you, did your hair, helped you brush your teeth

Lasts lost, undocumented No photo, note, or video to mark those moments of passage from baby to girl to woman.

Missed, unmarked, unremarkable, but monumental, As I strain to remember the when and the how, the simultaneous loss and thrill Of witnessing you grow up and away, to becoming yourself.

My only child, my first and last.

First and last baby deer Rosaria Perna

Mimi Pipino

Firsts recorded as words in your baby book, images in a photo album, commemorated and celebrated.

The last time (I) Gave you a bath Read you a bedtime story and snuggled you off to sleep Picked you up and held you in my arms Tied your shoes Dressed you, did your hair, helped you brush your teeth

Lasts lost, undocumented No photo, note, or video to mark those moments of passage from baby to girl to woman.

Missed, unmarked, unremarkable, but monumental, As I strain to remember the when and the how, the simultaneous loss and thrill Of witnessing you grow up and away, to becoming yourself.

My only child, my first and last.

oma in the meadow Lauren Ferns

for stephanie Laci Gross

I would like to die before my mother does. Not as a way to dish out oh so sweet revenge of the most insurmountable suffering, but so I won’t have insurmountable suffering from her very own. Perhaps when I die, my strong and youthful spirit can visit her own and provide some sort of benefit. Just a thought. Just a wish. Grow up, you tell me at twenty-three. Grow old, I tell her at nearly sixty. She is still someone I need.

oma in the meadow Lauren Ferns

for stephanie Laci Gross

Lily Study No. 1 Madeline Vanhorn

Into infinity Jacob Waldenmaier

One year after the death of my father, I think about what might have drifted across his mind in those last moments. Fantastic dreams. Our voices in the room. Sparkling musical innovations he’ll never set to paper. A stream of forgotten nuances from his life. At 1:00 am, the hour of his death, I listen to one of his masterpieces, “An Infinity of Summers.” I picture exploding celestial flames, billions of years ago. Fusion. The geometric formation of organic shapes that link and swap charges and that twist into nucleic acids with quivering buds of hydrogen. I imagine gelatinous protein factories, bonding, duplication, countless adaptive generations. Green blooms in steaming ancient lakes. Animation, nerves, the ecosphere’s blood-soaked triumphs. Fingers. Brains. Civilization. Instruments, music, and mathematics. All of this—the cosmic history of the world—produced that night when Dad and I cried together, telling each other everything that needed to be said, resolving his fatherhood and my sonship, sharing closure. And it gave me this moment, lying awake with Lara sleeping beside me, her hand on my heart. And, the ages have led to you. Those bursting stars, those eons of evolution – you exist at their summit. You get to know more intimately than anything else in the universe what it’s like to be human. You get to feel, in our unique way, the warmth of a winter fire on your face, to see liquid irises weep, to smell lilacs, to sense the spark of creativity, to hear nocturnes that sweep you into mystic moods and passions, to lose yourself in bewildering art, to love a person, to play with children, to feel the agony of inconsolable grief, to say goodbye. To see summer fade. To die. I thank God for all of this. For letting me have this little life in a tiny century, with all of you in it to share it with me. In this moment surrounded by an Infinity of Summers we get to be alive. –In memory of my father, Jack.

Lily Study No. 1 Madeline Vanhorn

Into infinity Jacob Waldenmaier

Painting in the sky Linda Masek

Sister Miriam Fidelis

God painted in the sky last night,

How closely knit is Crib and Cross:

Before the stars and moon so bright,

Paschal Mystery

The north wind blew the clouds apart,

unfolding on earth in lives

And left a canvas for His art. And as the sun sank slowly low, The colors ran and began to flow,

like knit, purl and often an unraveling. Lo, resucito!

The pinks, the crimson, the lavender, and gold,

The Risen One springs forth

The ochre, the turquoise as the sun grew cold.

though the garment is undone.

And as the sun sank in the west,

God’s doing.

The colors flared and exploded best,

Joy evermore

God gave the beauty at the sun’s last stand, The sun in glory set by His command.

knitting god: Incarnatus est

for we are woven into Him Now one weave unbroken.

Painting in the sky Linda Masek

Sister Miriam Fidelis

God painted in the sky last night,

How closely knit is Crib and Cross:

Before the stars and moon so bright,

Paschal Mystery

The north wind blew the clouds apart,

unfolding on earth in lives

And left a canvas for His art. And as the sun sank slowly low, The colors ran and began to flow,

like knit, purl and often an unraveling. Lo, resucito!

The pinks, the crimson, the lavender, and gold,

The Risen One springs forth

The ochre, the turquoise as the sun grew cold.

though the garment is undone.

And as the sun sank in the west,

God’s doing.

The colors flared and exploded best,

Joy evermore

God gave the beauty at the sun’s last stand, The sun in glory set by His command.

knitting god: Incarnatus est

for we are woven into Him Now one weave unbroken.

Ursula

Jacob Waldenmaier I stand East and study her. Her brown skin gleams in the sky. The wet breath of April polishes the patina shawl that drapes over her speckled shoulders. She tilts mid-furlana, face gazing upward, hand cast high into the blue. She pulls from heaven a tandem of scrolls and concertinas, unfurls them like d’Arc’s standard, conducts them with harpist fingertips to the rocks beneath her. Mother Ursa, pirouetting around the North Star, had dropped from heaven heaven’s words.

Ave Maria Mary Price

And Angela caught them. I walk through the béton brut breezeway which admits the lush green of the courtyard. The quad stretches into view. Its enameled benches and devotional niche gardens humbly arranged, from where she could see on the Mullen balcony, for wandering. Parchment-hued paths diverge and recombine, lead their pilgrims toward meandering gardens and granite memorials and markers which, like acolytes, guide campus wayfarers site to site, and lose them in a shrubbed prayer path or a reflecting nook, and find them again, oblivious of time. Parker and Dauby and Stano are there, a Renaissance triplex riding the graded Westland in whose halls drift the sweet musks of chemical discovery, in whose womb embroidered figures exhibit their designers dreams woven into being, in whose wings are technically arranged the dens where life’s guardians practice their pulsing healing crafts. There can be heard the hushed seismic twitching of fastidious pens. Another level down, Elissa sleeps, her shimmering silver complexion reflecting the world, wreathed in marshy lions’ tails and studded with squat ginkgos, their bifurcated trunks posing and gnarling and staring at their wind-rippled reflections. Snow geese have settled for a season to keep watch. Pilla stands pastorally in his clerestory vestments and bishop’s mitre. His beacon lights the campus promenades. Our dancing Saint, named for the sea, leads her disciples around all of this. The walk is slow and pensive. It is timeless. I step into the labyrinth. There is wisdom in this swiveling walk. There is the dream to live, and to bring to life, to restore the heart. She teaches us. We find the center.

We pause to hear.

Ursula

Ave Maria Mary Price

We pause to hear.

The Following day Lilyka Pickard

Beauty lies within

I’m still scared, To hold her hand in public, Because the world is a horrible place, And I've been forced to live in it. But she's irresistible. I can’t help but wrap my arm around her waist, When she drifts a little too far away. Why should I fight the urge to kiss her? With parades and laws passed in the past, I should feel safe, With her hand in mine. But the world is a scary place. Hateful humans hide around the corner, Waiting to attack. And I don’t want to be the one on the news, The following day.

Kayla Hensel

Creating resiliency Sabryna Kuehls

The Following day Lilyka Pickard

Beauty lies within

Kayla Hensel

Creating resiliency Sabryna Kuehls

Half a Year An Attitude of Gratitude

Sam Utterback

Jeanette Haug

Beauty abounds in many and myriad ways. Sunshine and moonbeams and twinkling stars in the sky. The smile of a child can brighten your gloomiest days. Flora and fauna, the birds and the bees passing by. Can anyone doubt that a power so great does exist? He shows us Himself in all of His creatures so fine. Open your eyes and surely His love can't be missed. Inhale the beauty, it's out there, it's yours and it's mine. Remember to thank Him for all of His gifts are so rare. Even when trials come into our peaceful abode, He's there to assist us, to help us, He really does care. Just ask Him with love, and He'll help us to carry our load. The beauty around me invokes me to offer this plea, May all people, all ages, awaken Your beauty to see.

Half a Year An Attitude of Gratitude

Sam Utterback

Jeanette Haug

Slow Me Down, Oh Lord Ruth Bakonyi

The House Lilyka Pickard There is this home. The paint on the side of the walls is peeling, There are marks on corners from bumps. No dishes sit in the sink, But a layer of dust rests on every surface. The house is not old But it aches. If people listen close enough, They hear it creak and moan. Almost like a cry for help. It yells silently. The wind rattles the house. The not so young, Not so old house.

Slow my thoughts which flicker from what might have been to now, From the possibilities, to the realities, From the tomorrows, to the todays, From the far horizons to the view outside my window. I notice the black birds which flicker on the gnarled cherry tree branches. I appreciate the pale pink blossoms which slowly open as each new day begins. The various visitors—wrens, cardinals, blue jays, share the petals of these blossoms— nectar after a winter’s drought. They say we should not leave our houses. That we must stay sheltered in our homes—These structures that provide memories where e’re we turn… Photos of family, friends, far adventures, holidays. Books calling out to be reread. Recipes shared during communal meals. Brightly hued yarns yearning to form winter scarves, treasured DVDs of life’s lessons through stories. How often do I take for granted all I have been given— friends, family, fortune, truths to be pondered, joys to be recalled, love to be savored. Lord, slow me down, direct my thoughts, control my emotions. Let me ascertain the value of my life. Quiet my fears, increase my Faith so that I may share your Hope and Love with others. (Written as spring approaches during COVID)

Slow Me Down, Oh Lord Ruth Bakonyi

Soli Deo Gloria Garden Malia Ali

A beautiful garden, my garden, that served as a sweet oasis. A place of peace and bliss,

Po Bubbles Desiree Bullock

Breathing life into purpose, Hope in prosperity. A home. A place to explore, Procure perspectives, Relish in the legacy. Thank you for the array of sweet alyssums. Such a Sweet asylum. A Beautiful backdrop, To learn and escape. Thank you for the rich care and consideration. No other space allowed to rest under the cherry tree, Comforted as if an innocent child. Thank you for the yellow myosotis. Memorable, small, and poignant, Untouchable like a lotus, Decorating a path to be prosperous. Thank you for the Satyr Butterflies. I was never alone, protected by your gaze. Your mirror projected empowerment, Now we can float free together. Every detail now blurred together, By the conundrum of time, Masked by the beauty of enjoyment. An abrupt end, overlooked by fixation of insecurities, Now the opportunities are reality. The roses I take will wither, But the values collected will flourish forever. Farewell and thank you for planting a seed. Thank you for believing in someone,

And all their possibilities.

Soli Deo Gloria Garden Malia Ali

A beautiful garden, my garden, that served as a sweet oasis. A place of peace and bliss,

Po Bubbles Desiree Bullock

And all their possibilities.

High school writing contest In alignment with Ursuline’s 150th anniversary, we asked high school students for poems, short stories, essays, or memoirs that align with college values including empowerment, education, innovation, and legacy. Students were able to showcase their abilities in a literary work that embodies these values and share a story that represents one of these ideas. Inscape received over 100 entries from across Northeast Ohio. Inscape’s editorial team selected 15 entries to be submitted to an external panel of judges for review. This year’s winners are: 1st Place: Caroline Dunn-Helton, “I Lie in the Sea”, Cleveland School of the Arts 2nd Place: Ashley Chase, “Fill My Mind With Knowledge”, Eastlake North High School 3rd Place: Maria Camacho,“Mujer”, Carroll High School

Judges

Dr. Adenike Marie Davidson is Professor of Literature and Gender Studies at Delaware State University. She currently is teaching a class titled “Black Girl Literary Magic.”

Veronica Colborn is Assistant Director of Admission at Ursuline College. Her qualifications to judge this writing contest include a Bachelor’s degree in English and an avid love for the written word.

Kari Gunter-Seymour is the Poet Laureate of Ohio and a recipient of a 2021 Academy of American Poets Laureate Fellowship. Her poetry collections include A Place So Deep Inside America It Can’t Be Seen (Sheila Na Gig Editions, 2020), which won the 2020 Ohio Poet of the Year Award, and the chapbook Serving (Crisis Chronicles Press, 2018). Her poems have appeared in numerous journals and publications including Rattle, ONE, The LA Times and The New York Times. Her work has been featured on Verse Daily, Cultural Daily, World Literature Today and Poem-a-Day. A ninth generation Appalachian, she is the editor of I Thought I Heard A Cardinal Sing: Ohio’s Appalachian Voices and the Women of Appalachia Project’s anthology series, Women Speak. Gunter-Seymour is the founder, curator, and host of Spoken & Heard, a seasonal performance series featuring poets, writers, and musicians from across the country. She is an artist in residence at the Wexner Center for the Arts and a 2021-22 Pillar of Prosperity Fellow for the Foundation For Appalachian Ohio.

I lie in the sea Caroline Dunn-Helton Cleveland School of the Arts 1st Place i lie in the sea my back to the sand floor and my face to the sun i drift side to side Going nowhere in particular all alone save for the door the door that floats beside me a dark wood with a gold handle it came from where i did the world of Bustling People Rushing, Brushing, Bustling People Going nowhere in particular except to their jobs where they sit for hours on end just to send an email or two all alone the world of Bustling People Rushing, Brushing, Bustling People Going nowhere in particular but here i lie in the sea all alone save for the sky, sea, sand floor, and the marvel of a door me and the door on the sea all alone Going nowhere in particular

Sponsor of the Ohio Poet Laureate position.

Judges

Dr. Adenike Marie Davidson is Professor of Literature and Gender Studies at Delaware State University. She currently is teaching a class titled “Black Girl Literary Magic.”

Sponsor of the Ohio Poet Laureate position.

fill my mind with knowledge Ashley Chase Eastlake North High School 2nd Place

Fill my mind with knowledge, Teach me about my past, Prepare me for the future, And I will grow beside this class. I'm young and I am empty, Waiting to learn passion and personality. Grow me like a garden, And I will one day inherit this Earth. Give me power and give me strength To build myself up With crumbling bricks. Everyone outside these walls Is trying to find the eye amidst the storm. My foundation is strong and I'm safe inside. I'll draw empowerment from this storm's eye. Struggle breeds hardship and hardship breeds strength, So I'll look to the clouds with compassion and thanks. I'll make changes and create a deference For my difference, Take what is good and make it best Then take what is best and make it better, Fight the human urge to settle And innovate my world. I'll make a difference that will last, And form a future from my past —A story with no end Because it is on the tongues of friends— And I will never have to say I died Because my name will have survived Ages after I'm on the other side.

Mujer

Maria Camacho Carroll High School 3rd Place They call me Mujer at the age of fifteen But they do not know the shackles they have set upon my feet The pain that fills my chest with woe For I and many girls know She refuses to speak, silenced and meek Mujer is entrapped in a web of lies Yet she knows it now like she did back then For she is betrayed Yet she cannot deny The safety the warmth the love she feels inside For they shroud her pain and comfort the king He faces no judgment, for no sin is too great for God Save he is a prized jewel His sins are wiped off his glimmering face By the same Mujer he oppressed She must keep silent and spin the web of lies Not a word to be heard of the woes she feels or the pain inside For the hits Mujer takes the abuse she feels Her cries are muted and her calls rebuked Thin plaster walls have become her cell Her loved ones complicit jailers too They all sit and spin their web of lies Mujer's culture has been poisoned from the inside A once beautiful flower Blooming in front of her eyes Shriveled dark and oppressive with the tick-tock of time Mujer sits and awaits Awaiting for her time I say to you arise Mujer Levántate

fill my mind with knowledge Ashley Chase Eastlake North High School 2nd Place

Mujer

Contributors In order of appearance

Nicola Ehrbar is a freshman nursing major and has recently discovered art as an outlet to relieve some of her stress. She is grateful to have had this opportunity to express herself. Rachel Neal is a fan of both the arts and sciences. She has continued her fascination with melding the fields and bringing an artistic flare to cut and dry visuals. While she is currently working in the dairy industry, she continues her art and research on many topics and brings them into an artistic light. Malia Ali is a senior English major, aspiring educator and activist. Simply an iconic individual.

The poem “Dear Black Boy” is one that Sayble Bradley wrote towards the start of the Black Lives Matter Movement. This poem is very dear to her heart and quite obviously embodies the values of empowerment and legacy, as it encourages young Black men to strive for greatness and to let their inner light shine bright despite what they see and experience each day. Angelica Hanon is a counseling and art therapy graduate student from Nicaragua and Mexico. She enjoys making art about femininity, empowerment, and unconditional love.

Mary Price is an art therapy senior and CAT bridge student. She aspires to offer others healing through integrating her passions for art therapy, nature, and yoga. For fun she enjoys hiking, live music, and experimenting in the kitchen.

Taylor Wiegand is currently enrolled in the Counseling and Art Therapy graduate program at Ursuline. She got her bachelor’s in art therapy at Mercyhurst University and after graduation she hopes to achieve her career goal of working with children in a medical setting. During her free time she enjoys being outdoors, collecting sea glass, and taking long walks in the park. Eileen Dixon is a retired medical imaging technologist. She performed X-ray exams on patients.

Alivia Rovder is a first-year art therapy major at Ursuline college. She specializes in acrylic and watercolor painting along with graphite sketching.

Heather graduated from Ursuline in May 2021, majoring in psychology and English. She wants to credit Ciani Kensey’s poem “For You”, published last year, as partial inspiration while writing/ submitting “Gloss”.

Ashley Serraglio is an English alum from Ursuline, now pursuing an MLIS through the University of Southern Mississippi and working full-time for the Geauga County Archives. She has a passion for poetry and storytelling.

Sarah Osvath is a counseling and art therapy graduate student who minored in painting during her undergraduate journey at Kent State University. She loves all things creative and hopes to spread the healing power of art!

Lilyka Pickard is a senior nursing student who loves her cat, Nugget, and doing research papers for fun.

Cailin Jaspers is a life-long art lover and currently in the Counseling and Art Therapy Master’s program at Ursuline.

Maureen B. Johnson has published twelve plays and has many more that are awaiting performance and publication. She lives in Oberlin, Ohio with her family.

Currently enrolled in the Counseling and Art Therapy program at Ursuline, Ursula Messina is excited to use her previous experience as an artist, art teacher, and substance abuse recovery coach in her new profession. Her blend of spirituality and feminism comes through in her art as well as her perspective as a helper. After graduation in 1968, Eileen Delaney Kohut taught in eight area high schools while earning a MA in English from CSU and an Education Administration degree from Ursuline before coming back to Pepper Pike in 2001 as Director of Academic Support for 16 years. Olivia Cooney is a 25-year-old Columbus native who currently works as a wine tasting attendant. She enjoys reading, writing, and drawing.

Autumn Sierra-Holloway is pursuing a Master’s degree in counseling and art therapy. She enjoys living a free and expressive life. Overall, her main goal has been to explore, and she has done a good job of staying true to that. She hopes that one day she will be able to look back and accept everything she’s given to herself and the world. Laci M. Gross is a 2019 Ursuline graduate from Steubenville, Ohio who likes to sew, read, and write (whenever she saves up enough to purchase such free time).

Ava Gleason is in the CAT graduate program at Ursuline.

Jacob Waldenmaier is an Oxford alum and teaches philosophy at Ursuline. He loves jazz, electronics, comedy, family, Jesus, Java (the coding language and the drink), and slaughtering his own ideas that their corpses might yield fruit.

Johnna Buenaventura is a non-traditional student in the CAT graduate program at Ursuline, with a determination to help change the world one client at a time.

Madeline VanHorn is a mixed-media artist and a graduate student at Ursuline College in the Counseling and Art Therapy program.

Tamar Nussbaum obtained her BSN degree at Ursuline in 2016. She is currently working on obtaining her FNP degree. She enjoys spending time with her family and writing in her spare time.

Linda Masek graduated from Ursuline in 1969. She also recieved a Master’s degree in history from Cleveland State University. She currently writes articles for two history magazines and writes books.

Barbara Murnane is a counseling and art therapy graduate student. She is interested in the intersection of the importance of nature and the human psyche.

Sr. Miriam Fidelis is an Ursuline Sister, presently serving at our Lady of Peace and St. Adalbert and our Lady of the Blessed Sacrament Parishes as a Pastoral Minister. She also accompanies others as a spiritual director.

Megan Fortney is a graduate student in the Counseling and Art Therapy program, and she also completed her bachelor’s at Ursuline in art therapy. She is on the tennis team here and she commutes from her parents’ house in Mentor.

Sabryna Kuehls is an aspiring art therapist. Art sparks her soul and creates a safe space for emotional expression. Art helps her healing through symbolizing working through her process in coping with grief, loss and mental health. Art has the power to captivate, inspire and heal.

Haleigh Platt graduated from Ursuline College in 2021 with a major in graphic design and a minor in English. She still helps the Inscape team and spends her free time reading, writing, and creating art.

Kayla Hensel is a graduate student in Ursuline’s Counseling & Art Therapy program. She studied fine arts as an undergraduate at Lourdes University and her favored mediums are watercolor, charcoal, and graphite.

Evey McKellar is a poet, writer, nursing student, improviser, and ordained minister from Dallas, Texas. She loves cold brew and hikes with her border jack, Scout.

Jeanette Haug graduated from Ursuline College in 1961. She was an Ursuline Sister from 1956-1970.

Sr. Rosaria Perna has been teaching at Ursuline College for over 28 years. She has recently transitioned to an adjunct position. She loves to make art and take photographs of nature. You can see more of her work on Inspiredesigns.org.

Sam Utterback is a fourth-year art therapy major with a minor in art and design. She is mostly seen creating 3D sculptures or various fiber projects but does enjoy making 2D art pieces.

Mimi Pipino is Director of Curriculum, Ursuline Core Curriculum, and Associate Professor of English. When not teaching, grading, attending meetings, or reviewing curriculum paperwork, she enjoys working out and watching funny TikToks with her daughter.

Ruth Bakonyi graduated from Ursuline College in 1982 and began a twenty-seven year career as a children’s librarian. She is married to her wonderful husband of fifty-seven years and a proud parent, grandparent, and great-grandparent.

Lauren Ferns is a graduate student in the Counseling and Art Therapy program. Her passions include art, healing intergenerational trauma, finding new crafts, and studying astrology. She lives in Cleveland with her husband, dog, and cat.

Desiree Bullock is an artist first, aspiring crazy cat lady second, and aggressive nerd third. Art is her home whether her mind is far away on Tatooine or is struggling with dysthymia here on Earth. As an Enneagram 4w3 and INFP, art gives her purpose and free expression.

Contributors In order of appearance

Alivia Rovder is a first-year art therapy major at Ursuline college. She specializes in acrylic and watercolor painting along with graphite sketching.

Lilyka Pickard is a senior nursing student who loves her cat, Nugget, and doing research papers for fun.

Cailin Jaspers is a life-long art lover and currently in the Counseling and Art Therapy Master’s program at Ursuline.

Maureen B. Johnson has published twelve plays and has many more that are awaiting performance and publication. She lives in Oberlin, Ohio with her family.

Ava Gleason is in the CAT graduate program at Ursuline.

Johnna Buenaventura is a non-traditional student in the CAT graduate program at Ursuline, with a determination to help change the world one client at a time.

Madeline VanHorn is a mixed-media artist and a graduate student at Ursuline College in the Counseling and Art Therapy program.

Tamar Nussbaum obtained her BSN degree at Ursuline in 2016. She is currently working on obtaining her FNP degree. She enjoys spending time with her family and writing in her spare time.

Barbara Murnane is a counseling and art therapy graduate student. She is interested in the intersection of the importance of nature and the human psyche.

Evey McKellar is a poet, writer, nursing student, improviser, and ordained minister from Dallas, Texas. She loves cold brew and hikes with her border jack, Scout.

Jeanette Haug graduated from Ursuline College in 1961. She was an Ursuline Sister from 1956-1970.

Sam Utterback is a fourth-year art therapy major with a minor in art and design. She is mostly seen creating 3D sculptures or various fiber projects but does enjoy making 2D art pieces.

Editorial Team

Malia Ali is a senior English major, aspiring educator and activist. Simply an iconic individual.

Joy Dodak is a senior in the Art Therapy program. She loves concerts and all of the good vibes she can get. Joy is also most known for her outgoing personality and her creative skills!

Elizabeth Eck is an English major at Ursuline College. She enjoys reading and spending time with her family.

Claire Hole is a senior at Ursuline with a major in English. She hopes to become a high school English teacher after graduation. She is excited to be a part of Inscape to help students be able to express themselves through their art and writing.

Shaina Leeson is a humanities major with an English minor at Ursuline College.

Lexi Lutz is a third-year education, english, and history major with a large passion for wanting to do more. You’ll find her reading, learning languages, or talking about traveling the world.

Emily Shainoff is a freshman English major with a minor in pre-law.

Haleigh Platt graduated from Ursuline College in 2021 with a degree in graphic design and a minor in English.

Solomon Richardson is studying Business Management and English at Ursuline when he is not busy gallivanting across the world, cooking up something new, or generally being nerdy.

Katharine G. Trostel, PhD Faculty Advisor

This magazine was created with significant contributions from members of the Sigma Tau Delta International English Honor Society, Epsilon Psi chapter: Malia Ali, Alexandra Lutz, Haleigh Platt, and Solomon Richardson.