SBA Art & Literary Magazine, Issue 1

ART ST. BENEDICT AT AUBURNDALE

LITERARY&MAGAZINE → ISSUE 1

Magazine Design & Layout by:Amanda Neat, Caitlin Terry, Layla Rapp (Graphic Design Class Fall 2011)

Welcome to St. Benedict’s first ever Digital Art & Literary Mag-azine. We are excited the Art and English Departments were able to combine creative forces for this publication. Our hope is that this maga-zine will not only showcase but highlight the best of what St. Benedict’s art and creative writing students have to offer. Our school is packed full of talent and we know with this issue, we have only begun to scratch the surface. In this edition, you will find artwork from Mrs. Haysley’s painting and drawing class, Mrs. Black’s advanced art class, Mrs. Lile’s photog-raphy classes, Mrs. Pela’s graphic design class, and Mrs. Zeanah’s fall creative writing class. Many thanks to all the students and teachers who helped along the way. We hope you will enjoy the first issue and forward it on for family and friends to enjoy.

Paul Mitchell • Class of 2013 • Drawing & Painting

Mary Beth Weber • Class of 2012 • Drawing & Painting

Fearthe fear inside me, growing stronger. i’m too far lost, to fi nd a way out.

the fear inside me, taunting my sheepish heart. i’m not strong enough,

i can’t fi ght it. i close my eyes to escape it, but it only gets worse. the

fear inside me, corrupting my dreams. My safe haven, now the place i

despise most. the fear inside me, raging within me. i can’t control it, no

matter how hard i try. the beast within me comes alive. the fear inside

me, breaking me open. i can’t conceal it or even try to hold it. the fear

inside me, diminishing me. Bringing me to my end. i thought i’d be sad,

i thought i’d be mad. the fear inside me, saving me. the closing dark-

ness, fi lling my eyes, i can rest now. it’s all right.

emily Adkins • Class of 2012

Jenny Meegan • Class of 2013 • Advanced Art

� e Larger Scale

T here is a solemn temple, in a valley, where a bell rings sweetly

in the morning. With the bell, follows a chain of soft chants–

prayerful whispers–led by a line of monks. They repeat this

every morning when the sun is bright and the bell tolls for them. A young

man with a freckled face, and purity within, awakes his soul and follows the

bell with suitcase in tow. He wishes for a quiet prayer–a peaceful prayer

with the monks of the temple. Carrying a nearly, empty suitcase, the man

instead fills it with his desires. He dreams to live among the holy and fol-

low as a warrior to his faith. He dreams of traveling far and wide and see-

ing what so few can see. “I am ready for my task,” says the man. “Where

is the head priest?” The elder monk smiled and said, “With due time, my

friend, today you will clean the chapel floors.” Upset with his menial chore,

he walks head down–not even in prayer–to the chapel. On his hands and

knees, he scrubs the chapel’s floors and glances to his side…and notices all

of the holiest, head monks and priests scrubbing the floors alongside the

discerning men. Head dropped in prayerful thanksgiving, he scrubs under

the candles with the holiest of men. No task is inconsiderable when done

for the sake of the community.

Grace Call • Class of 2013

Alicia Lawson • Class of 2013 • Drawing and Painting

Madeline Rector • Class of 2015 • Photography

Black TopI could talk to you for hours. You, me, these mountains, this black top, and a bucket of chalk. Th e memories.But it rained last night.And all our memories were washed from that black top.Th e things we called art, so haphazardly thrown on the ground, now gone.If we walked a little ways around the corner, you would tell me secrets.You cried that night.Th e memories.Back inside like nothing happened. Like no memories had been erased. Like no more had been made.Good night Susan Boyle. Tomorrow now and our art is gone.Good night Susan Boyle.And it’s tomorrow again.Th e whole group is together now.“Kumbayah, my Lord”One last tomorrow.I’m not ready for bed. You aren’t either.To the black top. Completely content with this silence. With this peace. With this black top.Th e memories.

Hayden Morrissett • Class of 2012

This is what it is to be Happy

this is a day when my world seems balanced. i smile and it’s not forced and i’m relaxed in

my skin. on this day, i take a long drive, going the same routes as i usually do on a day like this.

i make sure to pass a certain road, lined with trees. And for those few short minutes, as i make

my way through that back road, i feel surrounded by beauty. the sun shines through the leaves

and casts shadows down on the ground. i pass by and drive to this fi eld near my house. it’s sur-

rounded by trees and the sun is setting, creating a glow among them all. As i stand here, i feel

this sense of fulfi llment. i look around and breathe deeply.

i feel completely and utterly happy with who i am and what i’m doing. i don’t need to be

productive at this moment; all i need to do is be here. i was meant to be in this very spot at this

very moment, thinking these very things. i realize that i’m not all there is to life, that the people

and places and things i encounter every day are not all there is. there is something so much

larger than all of this. the beauty and the essence of this fi eld is who i am. i am the trees blos-

soming even through harsh weather. i am the grass that becomes wild sometimes and needs to

be tamed. these trees are so old, and compared to them, i’m just a baby. i’ve only begun on this

long mile, this journey they call life. But what is the meaning of it all? the possibilities are end-

less. the breeze and the sun, the greens and browns wrap me in their loving embrace and i feel

my higher power comforting me through all of this. i feel safe in this place.

here, sitting in the grass watching as another day passes, all of my senses are being

used. i can feel the grace of the world as if she’s sitting right next to me. i feel consumed with

a different kind of love that i have never felt before. i feel open for everything. i feel the need to

give my love to everyone and everything in the whole world. i have so much of it to give. Sitting

here, surrounded by all of this magnifi cence, i feel infi nite. And in this moment, i feel content with

life. i think to myself, this is what it is to be happy.

Lindsey Wells • Class of 2012

Mary Beth Weber • Class of 2012 • Drawing & Painting

Amanda Melvin • Class of 2014 • Photography

Who

the elder of the village had sent me out into the woods two days ago. i was starting to wonder if i was ever going to have this vision quest that everyone keeps talking about. it was starting to get dark.

i guess i was going to be spending another night in the woods. i started to fall asleep, when suddenly, i was very aware of the smell of pine. it fi lled my senses. i ran my fi ngers along the ground and felt pine needles everywhere. i guess i was sitting underneath a

pine tree. the smell of smoke interrupted the smell of pine. is this it? is this my vision quest? An owl soon confi rmed that it was in-

deed. he landed on a tree branch directly over my head and start-ing hooting. “hoot, hoot.” or was it, “Who, who?” Who am i? the owl started to fl y around and i took that as a signal to follow it. i got up from the rough, but soft, pine needles and noticed the chill of the night. the owl led me to the bank of a nearby lake. i could feel the cool vapor roll off the lake onto my face. i wondered what this place was. i had never seen it before. “Who, who?” the owl went again.

“i don’t know,” i said. i walked a few steps into the water. i liked the way it felt. A fi sh swam by my foot, brushing it as it went on its way. the owl started hooting again, this time, it sounded like a “hoot” not a “who.” i closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of pine. When i opened my eyes again, i was back at the tree, sitting in pine nee-dles. the owl was gone, and the dawn was on the horizon. i sat there quietly for an hour or so, then slowly got up and went to fi nd

the chief elder.

Cathy holmes • Class of 2012

Rebekah Little • Class of 2012 • Graphic Arts

Palindrome (Forwards)

Do you still see the world as a conspiracy? I know the world has hurt you, but it has also hurt meLove isn’t realI refuse to believeSomeone wants you, someone cares how you feel I fi nd this very trueTh ere is always a way to change thingsTh at is not the truthBroken hearts are never to be heardYour friends will bring you comfort if you confi de in themTh is is a lieTh e world is a conspiracy against you

Katie Disalvo • Class of 2012

Palindrome (Backwards)

Th e world is a conspiracy against youTh is is a lie

Your friends will bring you comfort if you confi de in themBroken hearts are never to be heard

Th at is not the truthTh ere is always a way to change things

I fi nd this very trueSomeone wants you, someone cares how you feel

I refuse to believeLove isn’t real

I know the world has hurt you, but it has also hurt meDo you still see the world as a conspiracy?

Katie Disalvo • Class of 2012

Halle Urban • Class of 2012 • Advanced Art

MJ Kim • Class of 2012 • Advanced Art

Don’t Be AfrAiD to DAnCe in the StreetS

Don’t be afraid to dance in the streetsto sing in the crowd

to turn the music up loud.if that’s who you are let it show. Be you, everybody else is taken.

Life is too short to try to be someone else the days go by fast

After all, tomorrow’s just a future yesterday.You can’t be afraid to show the person you are.

Be you, everybody else is taken.

run in the hallsSing in the halls

Always let your voice be heard.if we can’t hear you, how can we know you?

Be you, everybody else is taken.

have fun and work hard.Be the best you can be.

Don’t ever let anyone get you down.i will like you for who you are and the world will too.

Be you, everybody else is taken.

Megan Murphy Class of 2012

Dreamy White and Proper Gray

Dreamy White and Proper Gray,Colors that absorb my day,

Th e Dreamy White, it makes me Breathless,But Proper Gray pulls me back to Darkness.

Th e Insightful Rose in my White Dream spoke,To the Folkstone it said to go,

But Proper Gray, it pulled me backTo my real life where light is black.

Th e Dreamy White keeps on coming,Till the Essential Gray is no longer humming,

But Proper Gray, it keeps up its fi ght,Th e Gray won’t let me go to the White.

Suddenly snowfall covered the Black Bean,Where gray had been rooted deep in my being.

Th e world was all gray as it was turning,Th e Dreamy White light was all I was yearning,

Th en, as if someone had bleached the sky,Dreamy White entered my tearful eye,

I closed my eyes as it made me Breathless,But then Proper Gray pulled me back to the Darkness.

Marissa Boulanger • Class of 2012

Dreamy White and Proper Gray

Dreamy White and Proper Gray,Colors that absorb my day,

The Dreamy White, it makes me Breathless,But Proper Gray pulls me back to Darkness.

The Insightful Rose in my White Dream spoke,To the Folkstone it said to go,

But Proper Gray, it pulled me backTo my real life where light is black.

The Dreamy White keeps on coming,Till the Essential Gray is no longer humming,

But Proper Gray, it keeps up its fight,The Gray won’t let me go to the White.

Suddenly snowfall covered the Black Bean,Where gray had been rooted deep in my being.

The world was all gray as it was turning,The Dreamy White light was all I was yearning,

Then, as if someone had bleached the sky,Dreamy White entered my tearful eye,

I closed my eyes as it made me Breathless,But then Proper Gray pulled me back to the Darkness.

Marissa Boulanger • Class of 2012

Mary Beth Weber • Class of 2012 • Drawing & Painting

I see the test and scantron on my desk I hope it’s not too hardI sit and start working on my tortureGood, I know how to do the fi rst problem

I hope it’s not too hardI’ve got an answerGood, I know how to do the fi rst problemOh no! It’s matching

I’ve got an answerTime to mark it downOh no! It’s matchingI think it’s ABC

Time to mark it downWait ABDI think it’s ABCMaybe ACE making it negative and not positive

Wait ABDI’m so confusedMaybe ACE making it negative and not positiveHold on there’s ADE

I’m so confusedIs it ABE?Hold on there’s ADEI’m defi nitely going with ABE

Is it ABE?I’ll put that and hope it’s not wrongI’m defi nitely going with ABEI get my test back and the correct answer wasn’t even an option

Coach Masterson

Amanda Duckhorn • Class of 2012

Allison Fetz • Class of 2012 • Drawing & Painting

The Town of London has a Beast

My body is outlived by my soulfollowing an unstable source of light

into the sky, like an elder treeAs the fi re grows, night to day in London

Your last breath as cutting as a bomb in the windAs unforgettable as the beast

Sin to one is like happiness to the beastAs the bridge with holes gets longer for my soul

As i lose my father’s gift of windAs the last candle burns to the last light

While we listen to the werewolves in London Bring down the city as Lumber Jacks to trees

Still ashes fall, unlike the leaves for this treein all of its might the fi ery beast

had one more trick, for the gray rainy Londonrelease him from all he knows to take a soulto make a lamp of white fi re to shed a light

As the anger of heat kills the wind

As the clam is felt, all dies but the wind Growing from the ground, little trees

Like beacons, or a lighthouse giving lightAs i see who is behind this, the beast

Laying the trap, like a hunter for our soulsAs i watch our town rebuilds London

our hearts tick and tock like Big Ben of LondonAs we build faster, we are refreshed by the winds

More homes for those to rest not only body but soulAs babies grow to adult slapping grow to trees

the fi ery hell turns in a small beastLeading the way, showing us a light

Blinding by much even this tiny lightonce what we called home, was London

how it is a home for a hiding beastLied to all and many but yet the wind?

As leaves fall maybe a warning from the treesWhere can we hide not just us but our souls

Wind through the trees like light on city street of London leading our souls to the beast

nick Murphy • Class of 2012

Erin Peel • Class of 2013 • Drawing & Painting

Today, I Saw a Magnolia Tree

Today, I saw a magnolia treeI followed its branches to the sky

Today, I could not climbFrozen—too afraid to fall

Instead I went to the swingAnd imagined I could fl y.

I imagine I’m a bird, I fl yhigh, high above the tree

though my body still sits in the swing.I drift lazily through the sky

unafraid to fallunafraid to climb.

Above the tallest mountain I climb.To them below, I look tiny as a fl y

To them below, who are afraid to fall—Like the girl in the swing afraid to climb.

Around me with nothing but the skyI do not know the girl in the swing.

Branches in the breeze sway and swing.With my eagle eye I see a squirrel climb—

He can try but he will not make it to the sky.Only I can fl y.

If he wants he may watch me from the tree—see me dive into a free fall

Limitless, unbound by place or weather, spring/summer/fallTime slips and swings

I’ve lost where I am, can’t see the treeIn a place of no up or down, no fall or climb

I no longer need to fl yI have become the sky

Then the call, I hear from far away, slowly slip down from the sky.I can feel the free fall—

Again I fl yStill farther I go down and I remember the girl and the swing,

That she is me and we will climb.Today, I saw a magnolia tree.

Tomorrow the tree and the sky will be there and I will climb unafraid to fall; I will forget the swing and embrace the sky.

Caitlin Terry • Class of 2012

Jenna Fisher • Class of 2015 • Art I