Find the shape and tell it!
All Students: Be sure to read the entries for this group -- January writers). Everyone is required to comment on at least THREE different pieces of writing. You must submit comments
on Canvas (for each one, include the name of the author and the title
of their piece, and then your positive, specific comment ) by Friday, February 14 on Canvas.
Artist Statement
This artwork is inspired by Neal Shusterman’s novel Unwind, a story that challenges our understanding of identity, morality, and the value of a single life. It reflects the human cost of a society that prioritizes functionality over individuality, exploring the pain, fear, and resilience of those caught in an unjust system.
In Unwind, teenagers are “unwound,” their body parts repurposed for others in a horrifying solution to societal conflicts. I was struck by the psychological and emotional toll this takes on the characters. This inspired the central theme of fragmentation in my piece: the loss of identity and the dehumanization that comes when individuals are reduced to their utility. The repeated phrase “CHOP CHOP CHOP” reflects the mechanical and brutal nature of the system, while “TRUST” symbolizes the betrayal of the human spirit under the guise of order.
At its core, the artwork represents the struggle to hold onto humanity in the face of destruction. The fractured face at the center symbolizes the characters’ inner turmoil as their bodies and lives are torn apart. The abstract, chaotic background conveys a sense of confusion and fear, mirroring the emotions of those resisting the unwinding process. The looming eye in the upper corner represents surveillance and judgment, a reminder that society watches and enforces compliance. The distorted stop sign hints at moments of rebellion and the fight to halt an oppressive system, even when the odds seem insurmountable.
The piece is created with charcoal on canvas, a medium that allowed me to explore raw emotion through texture and contrast. Charcoal’s smudges and imperfections reflect the vulnerability and brokenness of the characters in Unwind. The monochromatic palette emphasizes stark contrasts between light and dark, representing moral ambiguity and the clash between hope and despair. The uneven strokes were deliberate, evoking a sense of chaos and instability to immerse the viewer in the oppressive world Shusterman describes.
This piece is a reflection on what it means to be human. It questions how we define a person’s worth and the consequences of reducing lives to pieces of a larger system. By juxtaposing the violent imagery of dissection with the word “TRUST,” I aim to highlight the fragility of faith in a society that demands compliance while betraying its people. The artwork conveys both fear and defiance, encouraging viewers to consider the impact of their choices and the systems they participate in.
Ultimately, I want this piece to remind viewers of the importance of empathy and individuality. Just as the characters in Unwind fight to reclaim their sense of self, this artwork urges us to recognize and preserve the humanity in ourselves and others. It is both a warning about the dangers of dehumanization and a call to stand against systems that seek to divide and dismantle us.
In the early months of Summer 2015, my family and I had taken an extensive trip around Europe, we started in New York and then flew all over the continent going to France, The UK, Poland, and Italy. These were some of the most beautiful places I had ever seen in my life and of course we visited all of the tourist attractions such as the Eiffel Tower in France or the Colosseum in Italy. As a child I was oblivious to the cruelty of the world around me and thought people were as beautiful as the scenery that surrounded them. I remember walking with my family around London. I was stopping to take pictures of the two story red buses that I thought were only in movies, staring at the worn out brick buildings around me, and taking in the beautiful city.
While walking through the small area I was in, there was a sweet and delicious aroma that was faint in the air. Across the street from me there was a bakery, it was built in the same worn out brick as the rest of the silent town I was in. I ran over to the bakery, leaving my distracted family at the church, my mind set on finding a delicious treat as I peered through the window in front of me. The sweet smell of bread and pastries had clouded any other thought that was in my mind. Whilst I was staring through the window, about to walk into the door, I heard commotion adjacent to me. I looked over my shoulder, already halfway in the bakery, and saw nothing. I remained on my journey throughout the store,looking at all of the colorful variations of different types of breads and cookies. Realizing I didn’t have any money, I walked out of the bakery, and began to look for my parents. I headed back towards the church that was across the street, however, I didn’t see them anywhere. I looked in the church and its surrounding buildings, feeling creeped out by the calm, yet ominous atmosphere of the old building. A crystal chandelier hung at the top of the church and it brought to life the intricate details of the building, I knew they couldn't have been far.
I was 7 years old, in a different country, without a phone. After getting distracted by the beauty of the church, I ran into the closest store I could find and started asking the adults for help. The majority of the adults I had begged to help me were native to London, however, none of them helped me. I was ignored by at least 4 adults while I was inconsolable looking for my parents. I was in awe at the fact that none of the people around me were trying to help, I was a small, awkward 7 year old who was incapable of helping myself. I was running around for about an hour when I finally gave up and sat on a nearby bench, I was hyperventilating, and the sweet smell of the bakery that I was so infatuated with made me sick. I felt isolated and scared, my parents had installed the thought of “stranger danger” into my mind from a very young age so by this time I was assuming the worst. As my head was in between my legs while I was curled up on a dusty wooden bench I heard a familiar voice yell my name. Soon after I felt the embrace of someone I knew was my mother. I was beyond relieved and I sobbed even harder into her arms and apologized profusely. My family was beyond grateful that nothing bad had happened to me and had even taken me back to the bakery and bought me whatever I wanted.
Years later I am still horrified at the fact that no one would even look at a helpless child. The world is filled with people who are too self involved, which is something even I am guilty of, but when the world is full of so many people, you realize how much of our lives are about human connection. Somewhere along the way I think we lost the capacity to love, which was given to us for a reason. It is impossible to give love to others when you don’t feel loved yourself. I am trying my best to reflect that philosophy in my own life, but it is still very hard. You surround yourself with people who love you and help you in times of need. It is hard to live in a loveless world, but love is all around us and will find us when we need it most.
If You Could See the Sun, 2025
Abby Carlos (b. 2007)
Colored pencil on paper
The inspiration behind this piece comes from the book “If You Could See the Sun” by Ann Liang. I initially connected with this book as a freshman and have since reread it a few times due to its lighthearted humor and romantic tropes. The girl left blank in this artwork is meant to represent Alice Sun, an overachiever who’s fears of becoming a nobody physically manifests as she suddenly becomes invisible. Overall, this piece is meant to illustrate a sense of alienation and exhaustion as a result from excessive negative self perception.
I wanted to convey the discomfort of feeling overlooked by using dark blues and purple for a majority of the background in order to contrast with Alice’s stark white appearance. The consistent solid black lining is also interrupted when it comes to Alice, emphasizing the permanence of her surroundings versus her own physical impermanence which signifies her self perceived unimportance.
In addition, the only features I made visible for this piece’s subject were her eyes which are focused towards the girl beside her, underscoring her obsession with how she measures up compared to her peers as well as her desire to be seen and remembered for her achievements. Her shifting eyes are also meant to move the viewer’s focus to the rest of the class which symbolizes again that even if she does stand out, her insecurity prevents her from being noticed for long.
Ultimately, by using dark colors against white and shifting from solid black lining to lineless, I intended to express how the fear of failure can become all consuming and result in feelings of isolation and constant insecurity.
Kloee Carmean (b. 2007)
Monday 10:05 AM, 2025
Chalk on Clock
Based on Marieke Nijkamp’s “This is Where it Ends,” I made a symbolic clock sculpture. The book inspired my work because I thought it was really interesting how, in the book, it takes place over the course of just two hours. The piece is about a school shooting told in four different, but connected points of view. The cover of the book has chalk that was shot as the art, so that inspired my use of chalk in my own art. Each new section of the book has a timestamp and the time of the shooting is 10:05 a.m. So, I set the time on the clock to 10:05 in order to symbolize how time, in a way, stops because of how fast everything else happened. The book had such a chokehold on me that I read the entire thing in one sitting. For the background I used the title page from the book and tore it to give it a more dramatic effect. For each marking on the clock, I used a piece of chalk cut to size with a knife and hot glued to the paper. Then, I hot glued the clock hands at 10:05. Then I reassembled the clock. I want the art to display how fragile time is, especially in urgent situations. In just two hours, so many students were killed and injured and helpless. While the book is fictional, it accurately displays a tragedy that has affected America repeatedly and I believe it is important to bring awareness to the many ways in which the difficult topic of school shootings can affect people.
The Three Musketeers is a
classic piece, written in 1844 by french author Alexandre Dumas. The story was
originally published by Le Siècle, but is now public domain for everyone to
access.
The story follows d’Artagnan, a young, hot headed man in the provinces of France eager to make a name for himself. With the advice and gifts given to him by his parents, d’Artagnan begins his way to Paris in order to join the ranks of the musketeers— An elite group of soldiers that act directly in accordance with the king and queen's safety. On the way there, his easily irritable nature gets the best of him and he loses the letter of recommendation his father provided him. Still full of heart, the journey onwards was smooth sailing until his arrival at Paris. There he gets his first encounters of musketeers, before meeting inside to meet the man in charge— M. De Treville.The interview begins, with it being cut short upon the arrival of some of our most important characters and the namesake of the book— The Three Musketeers Athos, Porthos and Aramis. With his interview botched, he soon after quarrels with all the musketeers separately to find them all amused and embarrassed by the coincidence and sparking the start of their companionship as they let bygones be bygones.
Romanticism is commonly imbued within the writing of Dumas throughout the book through various means. Characters are very passionate and emotional, and with characters such as d’Artagnan, it tends to cloud their reason and brings about new issues to address. This extends into the brotherhood developed between d’Artagnan and the three musketeers, best defined by their iconic quote, “All for one, one for all.” Loyalty to one another as they embrace hardships shows their devotion and shows vulnerability that transcends time.
Another principle of romanticism implemented is the idea of honor and heroism. The three musketeers and d’Artagnan are prideful, and nearly immediately upon meeting did they all challenge each other to a duel in order to preserve their dignity. Although these duels were eventually dropped, honor is still pursued, though whether or not it is preserved in the end of the book is up to interpretation.
The main character serves as a typical representative of the romantic genre. d’Artagnan is a hero full of passion and honor, but finds himself going in the wrong direction as his priorities get mixed up. The contrast between his initial goal and the conclusion of the novel creates a slight sense of tragedy, since many of the efforts at first seem to have been for no reason at all. This moral fall from grace creates a sense of intrigue in the young Gaston as he is followed throughout the book. The development of d’Artagnan feels natural throughout, as while he still holds his principles dearly, he has to shed some of that idealism as he comes to terms with what he wants and what he must do in order to earn it, keeping the story relatively grounded.
Dumas writing
throughout the book holds many elements of romanticism, with events of grandeur
and emotional moments but still keeps the story feeling grounded and believable
through the development of the characters and the grounded setting. The mixture
of romanticism and believability add to the allure of reading as it gives the
reader a sense of greater drama than what exists in reality while still
maintaining it’s historical integrity. This is most present in his characters,
as they best try to embody their honor and pride and find themselves conflicted
when their desires contrast their integrity and goals. Dumas’ effectiveness in
representing this turmoil as they continue through their journey helps to make
the story as captivating and interesting as it is.
For my personal opinion of the
book, I think it is a great read for anyone who loves a fast paced and action
packed journey. The thing that would scare anyone away the most would be the
sheer amount of length the passage has, and that was especially daunting when I
first picked it up. I believe that it’s earned its right as a classic, though
in some terms do I think it’s lacking. Personally, the lack of symbolism within
the story takes away from me since it doesn’t leave a lot to think about when
you put the book down. The symbolism of brotherhood has become rather common
within pieces of literature I have read, so it has become jaded as a concept
whenever it is a central theme within a piece. Disregarding my own perspective
though, it has appeal for literary technique and thought along with simple
rules of cool that’ll keep you drawn in as you read through the book, and would
definitely recommend this to anyone who is willing to put in the commitment.
Diego Vazquez (b. 2007)
Noid, 2024
Coloring lead on Canvas
Tyler the creator’s “Noid” is the inspiration for this piece. I started to do this piece right after the song was released, then I asked if I could do my piece on this song after remembering it had to be about a literary piece. Paranoia is described as unreasonably or obsessively anxious, suspicious, or mistrustful, which is a feeling that, for me, has always been silently prevalent. Then as I heard this song I noticed how well the feeling was described, even though there were many situations that I know I can't relate to, some parts were remarkably similar to the feeling. The chorus, bridge, and intro were very deep representations of being paranoid and how sometimes it feels overwhelming while other times it's just a small subtle feeling. In the piece I used cardstock and colored pencils, as I felt it gave a view of bleeding in the image, then I tried to draw Tyler the creator's costume of St. Chroma that appeared in the music video for “Noid” with multiple images surrounding him that he mentioned in the song and some that I added that have either happened to me or symbols that have made me anxious from the past or recent situations. The message that I tried to convey in this piece was the same message in the song, which is being followed or watched(paranoid), first with the image of St. Chroma looking straight forward gives a seemingly off putting image and next with many figures that personally to me have made me paranoid or symbols from situations that I have gone through that have made me feel paranoid. In the end I just would suggest all to listen to the song at least once, and even though the lyrics may not give that feeling of paranoia, the beat,chorus, and bridge do, and in my opinion it gives one of the best descriptive beats of a feeling in a song that I have heard in a long time.
There was a time when I thought that I had everything. My best friend was the first person I truly felt connected to. He could make me laugh like no other and his words had a way of turning chaos into calm. Our bond felt different, deeper than the fleeting connections I saw in others our age around us. We shared our dreams and when we talked about the conversations we would have over coffee as we got older, it felt as real as the air we breathed. He was someone I trusted with my life and the only one I ever let see every part of me.
We knew we couldn't be more than friends but we remained best friends. He took that title seriously, and I held onto that like a lifeline. He got me through tough times and we would eventually come to talk everyday about just about everything. But life is always unexpected. Later one day without warning, he disappeared without a fight nor explanation. There was just aching silence where his presence once was. I felt like I was trying to hold water, watching it slip through my fingers no matter how hard I tried to grasp it. I searched for an explanation but couldn't find one. My mind spun as I thought if the one person who knew me so completely could leave, then maybe I wasn't good enough. Maybe I was too much.
Then homecoming arrived and I couldn't take the silence anymore. When I finally saw him there I felt like the world would shatter if I didn't get answers. I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the night when we locked eyes. My hands trembled as I walked up to him with my heart pounding so loudly I could've sworn he could hear it. I needed something, closure, anything. I asked him why he had disappeared. His responses felt distant like they belonged to someone else. His words blurred and it felt like trying to catch raindrops in a storm. The only things I could hear were “You are one of the most caring people I've ever known,” his tone so gentle it almost broke me. But I could only hear that it was my fault over all the reassurances.
My knees buckled, but I forced myself to stay standing. I was able to control my legs but I couldn't seem to control my eyes. My vision began blurring and the next thing I knew was that there were tears streaming down my face. My voice started to crack and as I shook I asked him “Was I never good enough?” “Was your silence all I was worth?” And for the first time I could see his expression falter. But no matter what he said, the pain in my chest wouldn't be relieved. I walked away that night broken, feeling his absence more than ever.
After that, the days blurred together and I wasn't able to eat or sleep properly. I wandered through the school hallways like a ghost of myself. The pain started to feel physical, like something was clawing at my chest, leaving scars no one could see. I cried in class, hidden behind my sleeves, afraid someone might notice. I stopped caring about doing my work and things that made me once happy. I felt suffocated and even the smallest tasks felt huge. I didn't just lose a friend, I lost the one person I had trusted with every part of me, and with him, I felt as if I had lost myself too.
But this feeling didn’t last forever. Gradually like the first rays of sunlight after a storm, I began to rebuild myself and found the motivation to pick myself off the ground. I spent more time with people who cared and reminded me that my worth isn't defined by someone else’s choice to leave me. I set boundaries and took care of myself in ways I never before.
The next time I saw him we were at prom and I caught his eye across the floor. But this time I didn't feel that familiar pang of longing and hurt. Instead I felt a sense of bittersweet peace. He wasn’t the pedestal I placed him on. He was human and flawed just like me. Although there will always be a part of me that will be hurt, I realized that I didn't need him to be whole.
Looking back I am not bitter as it forced me to face parts of myself I had been avoiding, to find strength in who I really am. I am no longer willing to pour everything into someone else without leaving some for me and I am better for it. That chapter of my life really shaped me and taught me resilience and self worth. I may have lost him and the time I spent broken over it, but I found myself someone I can carry with myself forever. Myself.
Do you two want another sibling? My sister and I always responded with harsh rejection to this question. We had each other, and that was enough. We considered all the possibilities, such as constant crying or diaper changing, which solidified our strong refusal to have another sibling. However, in the most unexpected ways, the universe always has an exception to the questions we answer with "never."
While my older sister was in Long Beach for college, my parents had taken me to a party at my grandpa’s house. As I walked in, a tall man was sitting at the table and was discovered to be my second-generation cousin. Meeting him was oddly a comfortable experience as I worried about the universal fact that meeting distant relatives is more often than not, awkward. We bonded over what kind of music we listened to and even followed each other on Spotify. Later on, having nothing to do we decided to join the adults in playing poker. Despite having two brains and still being terrible at it, the laughs and one win we got are still very special to me as it marked the beginning of proving my past self wrong.
At another party held at my grandpa’s house, we met again but this time my sister who visited from Long Beach came along. Upon meeting my older sister for the first time, he offered to drive us around in his Model 3 Telsa, which was still relatively new at the time. As we sped around with the booming music, I remember I felt uncomfortable in the loud and reckless setting. However, when my sister and I were rejected from watching a rated-R movie because my sister was not of age by a year, we decided to call him out of the blue to ask if he wanted to come along. Even though it was last minute, he still thoughtfully decided to show up so we could be approved to enter. As we hung out more often, I came to love the environment he brought to us. He was the type to admire the scenes of nature when I never saw the point. He never failed to squeal and name every random luxury or sports car that drove past us on the street. The growing endearment for the things that I used to pay little attention to made me realize that I wanted to preserve what his bright soul loves to protect.
Before I knew it, my sister and I were screaming in excitement and naming the cars on the street. The reckless and loud nature became excitingly liberating. The times we would drive up to the mountains and simply just watch the lights of the city became beautiful as he taught us to appreciate these little secrets of the world. Quite quickly, he started to constantly visit our house and eat dinner with us. These visits also caused him to become closer to our parents to the point my mom started to call him her adopted son. Is this what it means to have a brother? He would pay for all of our cravings whether it be Baskin Robins, Boba Run, Starbucks, and more. When my sister or I hit our lowest points in life, he would always comfort us and make us laugh until our worries left our heads for a moment. Even so, at the same time, he would discover every chance to playfully annoy us.
It has come to the point where I can not describe what he is to us without using the word “brother”. Like him, the best people give because they want to not because they want something in return and the most caring influences others’ compassion to arise in efforts to defend what is loved. It truly was a strange treasure to find someone like the notion my sister and I have always avoided. We never knew that there was someone out there who could fill our lives with so much more color than we could have ever imagined. Someone would make the dinner table feel incomplete. Someone who could make me cry upon finding out he could not come to the Philippines with us and surprise us by flying over to us a few days later. Someone who comes to mind when I see a Mustang driving on the street. Having met him, I could not imagine our lives without his brilliant brotherly character. He is the sole reason why I could never say never as you will never know what miraculous exceptions will drop from the sky.
For readers who appreciate speculative fiction that goes beyond entertainment to question the nature of reality and the human condition, The Lathe of Heaven is a must read. Its exploration of timeless themes, coupled with Le Guin’s masterful prose, ensures its place as a classic in literature. Le Guin has a unique talent to blend the personal, cosmic, psychological, and the philosophical, which goes to show the work and effort that she has put into this book. The Lathe of Heaven is an intriguing novel that is able to blend an imaginative premise with keen insights into power, morality, and reality. Its compelling characters, with many themes such as the dangers of unchecked power, and literary excellence make it a book that continues to captivate and challenge readers. I recommend this book for anyone seeking a work of fiction that stimulates both the heart and the mind as this novel will make you want to read it again.
The Lathe of Heaven is set in a near-future dystopia in Portland, Oregon. The protagonist, George Orr, is an unassuming man with an extraordinary ability; his dreams can alter reality, often without him able to control the outcomes in these dreams. However, this power is more of a curse than a blessing for Orr, who fears the unintended consequences of his dreaming. The narrative begins with Orr seeking help from psychiatrist Dr. William Haber, who uses hypnosis and a machine called the “Augmentor” to amplify Orr’s dreams for what Haber claims is the “greater good”.
The book’s central conflict revolves around the ethical and philosophical implications of Haber’s manipulations. Orr wants to suppress his dreams, but Haber sees them as a tool to reshape the world according to his vision. As Haber’s interventions escalate, they lead to increasingly bizarre and catastrophic outcomes, including environmental changes, alien invasions, and societal upheaval. The novel’s themes include the dangers of unchecked power, the fragility of reality, and the importance of balance in human and ecological systems.
This novel has interesting characters such as the reserved and morally conflicted Orr; the ambitious, hubristic Haber; and Heather Lelache, a lawyer who becomes Orr’s confidante and romantic interest. Lelache’s skepticism and later support of Orr provides a human anchor amid the novel’s surreal events. All of these characters are a necessary asset of the novel as they allow for Le Guin to take a deep dive into the complex nature of the human mind and human spirit that she purposely makes difficult for the reader to understand.
Le Guin’s narrative is both inventive and deeply philosophical. Her composition is precise, yet imbued with a quiet lyricism that reflects the dreamlike quality of the story. For instance, her descriptions of altered realities are vivid and unsettling, drawing readers into Orr’s disorienting world. With most relating to real-world issues. Through Orr’s perspective, Le Guin explores the subjective nature of truth and reality, forcing readers to question their assumptions about permanence and control. Often forcing the reader to dwell and burden Orr’s own thought process.
The novel’s characters, though symbolic to an extent, are also psychologically nuanced throughout the entire novel. For example, Orr’s reluctance to use his powers goes to show his ethical concerns, making him an empathetic protagonist towards the reader. Haber, on the other hand, is a cautionary figure—a representation of scientific overreach and arrogance. While Haber initially seems to have noble intentions, his increasing obsession with reshaping the world only exposes his moral blindness to not only the reader, but to Orr as well. Unlike Haber, Lelache provides a grounded perspective, her skepticism mirroring the reader’s initial doubts, and her growing trust in Orr reflects the novel’s theme of human connection as a stabilizing force.
Le Guin’s use of science fiction conventions is incredibly effective as the dream sequences and the changing realities they produce are not just imaginative spectacles but also vehicles for exploring deeper questions about humanity’s relationship with power and the unintended consequences of intervention. For instance, when Orr dreams of ending overpopulation, the result is a pandemic that wipes out billions, which leads to a grim commentary on the perils of simplistic solutions to complex problems.
The themes of the novel resonate strongly in today’s world, such as Haber’s belief that he can impose order and solve humanity’s problems through his own vision of progress, which echoes contemporary debates about technology, environmental intervention, and governance in the world. Similar to today’s world with those who wield power to make changes that they see best fit, even though it may not be for the best. The believability of the plot lies in its internal logic. While the premise of dreams altering reality may seem fantastical, Le Guin grounds it in both Orr’s psychological struggles and Haber’s scientific rationale. This balance between the speculative and the plausible enhances the novel’s impact, allowing readers to engage with its philosophical questions without being distracted by disbelief. But Le Guin’s message is clear: power without humility and wisdom leads to disaster.
Le Guin’s handling of the central message is subtle yet heartfelt. The novel does not provide any easy answers but instead invites readers to grapple with its ethical dilemmas. Orr’s ultimate realization that balance and acceptance are more valuable than control serves as a counterpoint to Haber’s relentless pursuit of perfection. This tension between acceptance and control is the heart of “The Lathe of Heaven” and one of its most enduring contributions to literature.
The Lathe of Heaven is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally engaging. It was one of the most interesting Fiction books that I have read in the past 2 years as its exploration of complex themes, combined with Le Guin’s skillful storytelling, makes it a work of significant literary value. While some readers may find the philosophical aspects challenging, that is what makes it enjoyable as it forces the reader to put the puzzle together and they’ll go back through the book once again to analyze certain sections to find answers to questions that they’ll most definitely have. And with the characters’ struggles and the surreal twists in the plot, it’ll keep the reader invested, making the novel as entertaining yet intriguing as possible.
For those who enjoy speculative fiction that challenges our understanding of reality and the human experience, The Lathe of Heaven is an essential reading. Le Guin’s excellent craftsmanship and exploration of timeless themes secure its place as a genre classic in fiction that I believe any reader would enjoy. The novel’s ability to intertwine personal, psychological, and philosophical dimensions, alongside its compelling characters, offers many insights into power, morality, and the nature of reality. The Lathe of Heaven is a book that will continue to resonate long after reading, making it a must-read for anyone who loves fiction.
“Me VS Me”
By Cole Frausto
The play that inspired this drawing is Macbeth by William shakespear. This play resonates with me due to Macbeth's constant psychological battle against himself; from Macbeth just wanting to be a soldier and serve his country to an evil king who solves problems with murder. Macbeth always seemed to be his own worst enemy throughout the story by continuously making mistake after mistake to become powerful and overruling. I feel that I relate to this story because I, at times, also feel that I can be my worst enemy. I feel that when I am trying to be focused and buy into something that will benefit me, I often fall into negative distractions that can take me off course. Knowingly, the distractions are bad for me, I fight temptation and still fail causing self sabotage. The light and dark contrast in my drawing shows the contrast between Macbeth when he was a nobleman and when he became impulsive and ambitious for power. I only used colored pencils to get my message across. I also used the line concentration technique inspired by the painting “The Starry Night” by Vincent van Gogh, to give an eerie feeling that relates to the known mental illness depicted in the artwork and parallels the mental illness of Macbeth.
Enrique Garza (b .2006)
11th century(2025)
This painting is a symbol for my interest in music. In Macbeth, William Shakespeare incorporated music such as instruments transitioning acts. Music in the 11th century contained simple chants using religious lyrics combined with traditional dances. The artwork I used is from The court of Alfonso X depicting the 11th century. I started off sketching the painting and later with colored pencils coloring
the two musicians.
All Students: Be sure to read the entries for this group --November writers). Everyone is required to comment on at least THREE different pieces of writing. You must submit comments
on Canvas (for each one, include the name of the author and the title
of their piece, and then your positive, specific comment ) by Friday, January 10 on Canvas.
It was the summer of 2024, and as the break approached, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I rushed to my friends, eager to make plans for the upcoming vacation. While the sultriness of the sun beat down on me, one of my friends, Jane, called out, “Hey, Roman! Are you free to come to my graduation party?” she exclaimed. Although I didn’t know Jane very well, I eagerly agreed, it was my final chance to say goodbye to all my upper classmates. She handed me the invitation with an excited smile, and the date was set for two days after finals, the first Saturday of my long, awaited summer break.
The days leading up to the party were filled with the grueling pressure of finals, but my mind was constantly focused on the event. As the stress of exams began to fade, my anticipation for the party grew. Finally, the day arrived, and I was both excited and anxious. What was I supposed to wear? What should I bring? What would I do when I got there? Though I knew a lot of people who would be attending, I couldn’t shake the feeling of confused uncertainty.
In the end, I accepted the fact that I couldn’t prepare for every possible scenario, so I threw on some clothes and rushed out the door. It was my first time driving to this area, and although the journey was short, I became increasingly nervous as I got closer. The address on the invitation led me to a reasonably sizable house, and I arrived too early. Panicked at the thought of being the first person to show up, I began calling my friends, desperate to know when they would be arriving. They reassured me that they would be there soon.
Once the party began, I found myself feeling overwhelmed. The booming bass and the hum of mumble rap created discomfort in my ears, and familiar faces started to fill the rooms. Seniors arrived one after another, crowding the space. I spotted John, a close friend of mine from statistics class, and we retreated to a quieter corner to play board games and card games away from the chaos.
As more people arrived and the sun began to set, John, a few other friends, and I decided to play some sports outside. Meanwhile, the mood inside shifted. College students began filling the rooms, the drinks flowed freely, and the noise grew louder. Eventually, we returned indoors, and I couldn’t help but notice a stark contrast between the party’s earlier lightheartedness and the scene that unfolded before me. The smartest students I knew, the ones who had ranked among the top of their class, were now clashing drinks. The music blared relentlessly, and the atmosphere became nauseating.
A pungent smell filled the air, something green, I couldn’t quite place. I stepped outside for some fresh air, but the odor grew stronger, nearly dizzying. I saw a small group of students, Ashtrays and green substances littered the coffee table they sat by. Soon, the scent became overwhelming. Disturbed, and I returned to the house. The music, while still loud, felt strangely comforting compared to the chaos outside.
As the night wore on, the party became more chaotic. The host began bringing out red cups and ping pong balls, and the cheers of celebration filled the air. It was surreal, some of the people I regarded with the highest respect, students I admired for their intelligence and achievements, were now partying in ways I had never imagined. The house seemed to pulse with energy. Screams, laughter, and shouts echoed everywhere. Large groups of intoxicated teens were endlessly roaming the rooms for space. As I walked through the house, I saw students slumped over on couches, others lying unconscious on the floor. The party was clearly winding down, Jane, barely able to stand, muttered something about it getting late. I soon understood it was time to leave. As my friends and I began to leave, the noise quieted, and the house began to settle into a peaceful silence.
The ride home gave me plenty of time to reflect, thinking about the people I respected the most, the smartest students I had always admired for their intellect and achievements, now engaging in behaviors I could never have imagined. This experience made me question the way I viewed others. I realized that there’s much more to people than just the way they present themselves in public. People are complex, and everyone has different sides to their personality that might not be immediately visible.
Family History, 2024
Zyrah Edwards (b. 2007)
Acrylic on canvas
The play that inspired this artwork was “The Piano Lesson” written by August Wilson. This play resonates with me because it offers a realistic perspective on how people engage with their history, especially with the symbolic conflict over the piano, which represents the struggling with honoring the past and seeking progress. This artwork symbolizes the balance between wanting to preserve history and wanting to move forward.
At first glance, you would assume the girls in the painting are twins but that is not the case. I decided to depict two girls to symbolize the internal and external conflict of being torn between the family debate of trying to sell the family piano. The mother wants her daughter to carry on her family heirlooms and values, while her uncle argues that selling the piano will allow him to buy land back in Missippi, which can benefit the family. While trying to understand both sides, she is also trying to understand her place in the family history, which is a challenge given her youth.
When making this painting, I intentionally avoided using bright colors, as the play is set in Pittsburgh 1936, and I wanted to evoke an old timey feel. I used many light colors to give small detail to my painting especially in the tree. I chose to make the carvings in the piano lighter to make it stand out, which also represents their family history. Through this work, I intend to convey the feeling of wanting to preserve history while also wanting to progress from it. This piece questions what would you do if you were in the same situation.
On October 28, 2024, the time my life completely changed. I went through a devastating crisis in life—my first-ever car accident. For me, I got ready for a normal school day. I rode my bike to school on a breezy cold morning. As I blinked my eyes, I was in the center of a car crash. In that second, I was on the floor, covered in bruises, and not being able to hear a thing. As my body acted like everything was alright, I subconsciously felt like my whole world was shaking out of balance. I was unable to grasp the situation, as I lay on the pavement waiting. In a couple minutes, my parents came and my stepfather took me home as my mother stayed to figure out the situation of the incident. As I arrived home, I went straight to my room to lie down, to fully consume what had happened to me. I looked out my window and I noticed how silent and alone it felt in my home. Not a single sound was made. It was only me and my mind. I felt so vulnerable, so lost. I did not know what to do, I was scared. I grabbed my phone and texted my significant other asking for comfort; for this person was the only one to whom I had an intimate connection. I soon realized that I texted my feelings to a wall, to a person who lacks empathy, who lacks comfort, and a lack of intimacy towards me.
My significant other did not show any signs of concern, not knowing how serious of a situation this was. I felt so heartbroken, like someone put a knife deeper into my wounds and I have never felt more alone than ever. I was at my most vulnerable, Just like a rock, I was tossed away, as it sank into a deep blue lake, a rock that had no significant value. I had no one. I questioned myself, “Is this all I am worth? Do I truly deserve this?” It felt cold.
A few days after the incident, I broke things off with my now ex-partner. It was painful to let go of something I loved so dearly, but I know that if I don’t, I will lose myself. I realized that this is not what I deserve and I shouldn't be treated like an emotional punching bag for someone’s personal use. I decided that instead of getting consumed by all the negative emotions, I’m gonna start doing things that will bring the best version of myself, a person I can be proud of becoming. I know that instead of sitting around, breaking down thinking there is no purpose in life, I took notice that if I don’t start a path for myself, there will be no journey in life for me. I realize that life goes on and I told myself that I should build a self-person that can never be broken again. Never vulnerable.
At the start of my healing journey, I designated a place where I could feel at ease, a comfort zone. The place is a park, located behind my house—a place where nature won’t judge me, nor resent, but pity me. As I sat under a tree, I could feel the cold yet gentle breeze flowing through my hair, consoling me. Time passed, and as I saw the sunset go down, many thoughts zoomed into my head. I reflected on how life is, where bad things happen to help you become stronger. I reflected on what it's like to be truly loved, to be truly wanted. A person who would never let me go, even in their worst state, someone who would love me as much as I loved them. I reflected on my mistakes as a person, and a desire to become better. I repented. I reflected on becoming a person I am proud of with no insecurities, a life where I can truly feel free and enjoyable. This burning desire to become a better version of myself became my new motivation in life, a promise to myself.
A month later, I found comfort in myself. My life was filled with peace, surrounded by nature. Nature becomes the sanctuary of my healing. Nature gave me clarity on what life truly is. In those moments of solitude, I found how to enjoy my own company. During the time I spent in nature, I realized that nothing is more rewarding than loving yourself for the actions you take, the responsibilities you bear, and the appreciation for every moment I am alive. The emotional dependency I had with my ex-partner hindered my ability to grow as a person, as I relied so much of my happiness on them. As I stood in nature listening to birds humming, and the grass flinging, I realized I’m living too. I lived in moments with people who matter the most to me, where I can love myself the same as I love others. I discovered the passions I have long neglected. I notice how much life can offer you, boosting your personal growth. I became a gentler and kinder person. Kinder, forgiving, loving yet accepting person with no resents. I grew closer with people who had reminded me how much I was worth, creating a stronger bond with them. I fully was proud of where I was in life, finally enjoying the moments that life can offer, where I could finally open my heart again to new beginnings friendships, and another chance to love. It was no longer cold anymore, but a new warmth that had been rekindled in my heart.
I remember it as though it was yesterday. It was an average day in my life, nothing interesting really occurred. I bolted through the front door, taking off my coat and school shoes complaining about the rain and how my books were completely soaked. I trudged up the stairs and slowly began to remove my drenched school uniform, peeling my tights off my legs. I threw my clothes in the laundry basket, took a shower, changed into my pyjamas, and began my homework like I always did. I made sure to call my father who was currently in California temporarily for work, like I always did. My friends and I spammed the group chat with hilarious Musical.lys like we always did. Everything was normal. Suddenly, I heard a light tapping on my bedroom door. My mother peeked her head around the corner and asked me to come to her room for a discussion. "Crap," I thought to myself. What have I done this time? I don't think I did anything. Upon entering her room, I immediately noticed my sister and brother were there also, wearing the same perplexed looks on their faces. This must be serious. At least I'm not the only one in trouble.
"I have an announcement. We will be going to join your father," my mother announced with a nervous smile, uneasiness clouding her features.
"Like for a holiday? I've always wanted to visit California!" I exclaimed. A holiday? I felt a smile take over my face as I dreamt constantly about seeing the Hollywood sign and running into celebrities on the street.
"No Ade, not a holiday. For good." Instantly my smile vanished. I've always wanted to see the Hollywood sign, but not badly enough that I'd be willing to give up my entire livelihood for it. What about my friends, people I've known since I was a baby? Did those relationships not matter? I glared at my mother with a look of betrayal contorting my features. She refused to meet my eyes.
All of a sudden, the room filled with protests and exclamations all against this impromptu move. My then 7-year-old brother looked incredibly confused. He didn't get it, but then again why would he? He will move to a new country and forget his friends in an instant. I doubted if he would even have the burden of lugging memories across the Atlantic with him the same way that I was forced to.
Thud! The door slammed harshly against the wall as my sister rushed out of the room. Perhaps she was crying, I couldn't really tell, all I could grasp at that moment was how frozen I felt. I was the type of person who hated change, and I most likely still am. I watch the same shows on repeat, eat the same meals I'm accustomed to, and talk to the same people daily. Living in America was far too much too soon for me. I wasn't ready to be bombarded by new people in an entirely new environment than what I grew up in.
As the weeks flew by, more and more furniture began to disappear. The dining table, the living room couch, even our family car which I will never know the name of as I don't care about cars that much, but I still missed it all the same. I no longer had that initial mortified feeling associated with the "Big Move" as my family liked to call it, but I wasn't completely comfortable either. Talking to my parents was futile as they already had their minds made up, and the cries of an 11-year-old girl weren't going to persuade them otherwise. July 22, 2019, was when it happened. My mother, my sister, my brother, and I all boarded a British Airways flight destined for the sunny paradise of Rancho Cucamonga, California where my cousins happened to live. 12 hours later, I stepped into my new life. The sun shone on my face, leaving me temporarily discombobulated. This was it I guess. It was time to fully embrace this experience rather than fight against it.
Fast forward 5 years, and here I am. A high school senior in the midst of college applications planning out what the rest of my life is going to look like. The only difference is now the decision is completely up to me. There is no overbearing mother selling my wardrobe to the next-door neighbor, or smothering father telling me that it is all for the best. My major, the school I attend, the courses I hope to take, and the state I choose to live in, will be my choice completely. I feel liberated. It seemed as though my entire life had been dictated by those around me, and now I have it sitting in the palm of my hand. This is all I have been yearning for since I was 11 being whisked away to a foreign country, the opportunity to make my own decisions, even if it leads me to ruin. I will navigate that ruin optimistically because at least that ruin is mine and mine alone. I feel excited for the next chapter of my life.
