Calliope Fall Issue 2012

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Noble and Greenough Art and Literary Magazine


<ul><li><p>Natalie Behr</p><p>Table of ContentsCover Tori OConnorNote from the EditorsCold Hannah NashUntitled [drawing] Kirk GulezianUntitled [pastel] Brenda BecharaA Preordained Encounter Maria MaierUntitled [painting] Elisielle WilsonUntitled [photo] Jessica MetelusUntitled [photo] Henry DixonExcerpt from Cross James GearyUntitled [charcoal] Ali WongSong of Myself Jonathan BlochUntitled [scratch art] Emma MagidsonUntitled [scratch art] Kirk GulezianStudent Spotlight: Raheem BarnettInstagram Throwback ThursdayStudent Spotlight: Lexi VocaturaUntitled [pastel] Belle TuttleYou Swear? AnonymousUntitled [drawing] Greta OMarahElderly Chloe RosenUntitled [photo] Natalie BehrMusic PlaylistWriting/Art Prompts </p><p>p. 1p. 3p. 4p. 4p. 5p. 6-7p. 7p. 8 p. 8p. 9p. 9p. 10p. 11p. 11p. 12-13p. 14-15p. 16-19p. 20-21p. 22p. 23p. 23p. 24p. 25p. 26p. 27-28</p><p>2</p></li><li><p>Note from the</p><p> Editors From what weve gathered, Nobles students know Calliope in a variety of contexts. You might know us as the group that spends way too much time in the DDC, chatting about our incomplete InDesign files or Sabrinas brothers bar mitzvah; you might know us because your friend spends his or her x-blocks with us in room 229, sometimes organizing the magazine and more often proposing names for Ms. Brennans baby. Maybe you know us only as the magazine that comes out four or two or three times per year, or the people who tie-dye t-shirts at Art Street, or maybe you dont know us at all. This year, though, were out to change that. Above anything else, we are Nobles literary and arts magazine, and we work hard at and take a lot of pride in what we do. </p><p>In this particular issue, we aimed to showcase this attitude towards Calliope. In addition to featuring a collection of incredible student writing and artwork, our staff members created an Instagram hashtag, spotlighted two talented students, and collected childhood artwork for our Throwback Thursday pages in an effort to better connect ourselves with the Nobles com-munty. We laid out our body of work with considerable care our best efforts to do justice to the artists and writers who submitted. We hope you enjoy what weve produced. </p><p>editors-in-chief HANNAH NASH ANd EMMA MAGIdSONart editors SABRINA ROBERTS ANd CLAIRE COFELICEwriting editors CLAIRE GREENE ANd EMILY OTTlayout editors HENRY dIXON ANd TORI OCONNORmuse CHLOE ROSENfaculty advisor JESSICA BRENNAN</p><p>staff NATALIE BEHR ANd KATIE BUSSEY ANd ALEX KATZ ANd MARY MCdONALd ANd TOM MORRISON ANd CAROLINE PETRO ANd JACK RAdLEY ANd SAM ROSEN ANd ISABELLA SCHUMANN 3</p><p>Love always,Hannah &amp; Emma</p></li><li><p>ColdHANNAH NASH</p><p>To start with a childhood tale, for all that rises from childhood,Ill tell of that morning when I awoke by the cold.It crept in through the unclosed window and slipped beneath my covers; it wrapped itself around my warm feet, suffocating them, numbing them, and running off with my innocent sleepI came to and saw my pale toes shivering against the woolen blanket;I thought perhaps I would never make them warm again.</p><p>It may only be a small injustice . . . . but the child is small, and its world is small And its rocking-horse stands as many hands high, according to scale, as a big-boned Irish hunter,2 </p><p>And so I hated the cold.</p><p>Kirk Gulezian</p><p>4</p><p>2 Charles Dickens, Great Expectations, London: Penguin Books, 1996, 63.</p></li><li><p>Brenda Bechara 5</p></li><li><p>A Preordained EncounterMaria Maier</p><p>Stranger, stranger:You were sitting in the plush chairs of the T,Struggling with the NY Times crossword puzzle.</p><p>I never had a chance when I saw you sitting across from me.</p><p>Stranger, stranger:Miss brunette with blue eyes, red highlights, Chanel no. 5Let me put a name to that face</p><p>And have documentary proof that you exist.</p><p>Can I take you to a ball game?Lets watch the Red Sox vs the Yankees.Lets bet against an old gambler</p><p>That the latter team will be ground into the ballpark dust.</p><p>Stranger, stranger:Let us set off for a non-clichd forest walk, whereThe wind caresses your rose-tinted flesh, and your eyes,</p><p>Glazed over with fire and seduction, will lock with mine.</p><p>Stranger, stranger:Let me send you badly-rhyming poems by express mail,And have you sigh knowledgeably,</p><p>Well, its the thought that counts, right?</p><p>Let me listen intently to your dreams,Your intention to become a writer,And let my mind stagger for a moment-</p><p>Or two- under the jolting weight of your stories.</p><p>Let me congratulate you when,After tearing out your hair and ripping up your drafts,The Publishers Clearing House</p><p>Accepted your manuscript.</p><p>Let me tell you, if you will,That our future is inevitable-Someday Ill ask you to marry me, unless-</p><p>You end up asking me.</p><p>Let our families give us blessing,With evenhanded acceptance.And well think:</p><p>If they liked Us enough not to complain, our love must be undying.</p><p>Let us become a six-digit income family,With a lavishly furnished apartmentFloating on the Boston skyline,</p><p>Overlooking the iridescent Charles.</p></li><li><p>Some years later I will reminisceAbout the rich mans cologneYou gave me on our first anniversary,</p><p>Around the same time when I was stressing about my job.</p><p>And sure: the one day I forgot to wear it to workWas the day they laid me off;But like other poor men in 2008</p><p>Ive since learned to hold love, not money, as my highest law.</p><p>Stranger, stranger:Steeped as we are in debt,Let us go to Greece again this summer,</p><p>And this time let us bring our daughter, too.</p><p>I wont shout about the sneakers she BeDazzles,Or how she strips her Barbie dolls down to plastic skin.Dropped out of a wayward rib cage,</p><p>Somewhere over the rainbow.</p><p>Stranger, stranger:Let us batter against the pains of age.Let us combat cancer and Alzheimers,</p><p>And be history in the making.</p><p>Stranger, stranger:In this underground of hushed tunnels and blinking neon lights, Let your curly hair</p><p>Bridge the empty seat between us.</p><p>I dont know how far off the future might be,Time is relative.I warily approach you:</p><p>You look familiar.</p><p>Now you wear an abstracted look,Really? It feels like I know you, too?While youre here, can you help me</p><p>With number seven across?</p><p>Its a six-letter word,Definition: three stars aligned so that they resemble one.Fate, Destiny, so many options,</p><p>But they arent six letter words. </p><p>A lull, a thought-And it strikes me harder than dreams know how to do,Whisked here on the wings of some prophetic bird.</p><p>Umm, I think its syzygy.</p><p>Astronomy major, huh? Thanks!My crimson face is flushed with shockAnd I wonder how you knew.</p><p>Stranger, stranger: dont be a stranger.</p><p>Elisielle Wilson</p><p>7</p></li><li><p>Henry Dixon8</p><p>Jessica Metelus</p></li><li><p>Henry Dixon</p><p>Hunter impatiently unlocked the door to apartment 3A and threw his backpack on the kitchen chair with exaggerated defiance. He looked at the clock. 3:34 p.m. It was Friday. Nearly eighteen years old, Hunter dragged his feet and slanted back as he walked around his familys apartment, his lanky body exuding detachment and ease. Hunter put no effort into looking physically intimidating. Those who observed him, however, sensed that he was the type to pursue a fight for the thrill and come out victorious with a swollen cheek and a maniacal grin. When Hunter grinned, his eyelids reached up to grab his eyebrows, his neck tightened around various tendons, and his smile stretched while still concealing his teeth. It was as though youd just told him something personal, and he was trying not to laugh at you. His freckled face was lifeless otherwise, complementing his unkempt hair and generic black golf shirt. Hunter paid no mind to clothes with the exception of certain bizarre items that he would somehow come upon, like his shaggy brown sweatshirt with a bears head as the hood or his Spongebob beanie hat. These things would give him great joy, or so he said, but they were all bound to end up forgotten on the floor of some friends car covered in beer and cigarette ash some number of weeks later.</p><p>Excerpt from CrossJaMes Geary</p><p>Ali Wong</p><p>9</p></li><li><p>Song of MyselfJonathan Bloch</p><p>Have you spent much time with the sea?I spend many of my days with her.</p><p>I have spent so many of my days with the sea that she has become a part of me.</p><p>The ocean is the first to wish me good morning!And it is the last to tell me good night.</p><p>It is always there: a constant, a rock.Constant, yet forever changing. </p><p>The ocean can be placid, calm, peaceful; reflecting the sky like glass.The ocean can be playful, covered with a light chopand tiny breakers, distant cousins of those who cause much grief.</p><p>The ocean can be awe-inspiring, a sea of majesticrolling walls of water, crashing onto the shore in a symphony of splashes.The ocean can be violent.</p><p>A noreaster warning comes across the radio.Just looking out across the ocean I can tell a storm is approaching.</p><p>The sky gets dark, and the water gets dark, and all I can do is wait. </p><p>I climb up to the attic and sit down in front of thewindowI want the best seat in the house. </p><p>The storm picks up, and the waves pick up, and I know I am in for quite a show.</p><p>Waves the size of houses throw themselves one by one upon the seawall, a relentless assault of foam and water.The house shakes and the wind howls, almost as if trying to take attention away from the waves.</p><p>It is no use; the ocean has stolen the show.Seawater splashes onto the frosty panes of my citadel, some 40 feet above the sea.</p><p>The sea has showcased its might, and the next morning is back to imitating a lake.I am not fooled.</p><p>I know what the sea is capable of.</p><p>While I know what she is capable of, there is no place I would rather be than on the water.I spend my summer days sailing.</p><p>Sailing is the most intimate way to interact with the sea without being immersed in it.One must be in tune with the sea in order to sail.</p><p>When to tack, when to jibe, when to harden up and where to go.To a novice skipper, it might seem as if he is the one making these decisions. </p><p>To an old salt, it is clear the ocean makes them.</p><p>Sailing is the one way to explore the ocean without being overwhelmed by the land.It is one of the only times where your senses can be overwhelmed and relaxed at the same time. </p><p>All you can hear is the splash of the boat cutting through the waves.All you can see is blue water for miles, eventually becoming blue sky off in the distance.</p><p>All you can smell is the salt of the water.All you can feel is the wind in your hair, the gentle caress of the ocean as you run your hand through it, </p><p>and the gentle rock of the boat as the sea cradles it along.</p><p>The splashes of fish jumping from the water write a few lines.The squawk of gulls overhead contribute a stanza or two.</p><p>The gong of a buoy somewhere out of sight brings me the synonym I was looking for. The sight of one wave, bigger than the rest, reminds me of an image I wish to portray.</p><p>I am not the author of this poemI am merely the scribe.</p><p> As you read this to understand who I am, look not to my words or myself.</p><p>Look out into the ocean yourself, and there you will find the truth. 10</p></li><li><p>Emma Magidson </p><p>Kirk Gulezian</p><p>11</p></li><li><p>Q. How has your artwork evolved as you de-veloped as an artist?</p><p>In elementary school, my favorite thing to do was to grab a geometric-shape stencil and create intricate, stained glass-esque, kaleidoscopic tessel-lations. As I got older, I started to draw more from observation, and I used that practice to draw more intricate things from my imagination too, though making my ideas come out exactly as I envisioned them was much harder.</p><p>Q. Where is your favorite place to draw, and why?</p><p>Anywhere I can sit and look out of a window. Trees blowing in the wind and skies full of clouds, regard-less of their either natural or urban backdrop, are incredibly beautiful. Any sort of view out into the world is inspiring and peaceful to look up at while Im drawing. When I can curl up, warm, with my iPod and a drawing facing a window, Ill be set for a while. I wish I did this more often</p><p>Q. Why do you make art?Art is relaxing. When you can just create whatever you are thinking about, or you dont think and let it flow, there is none of the stress or pressure that comes with most other things in life.</p><p>Q. What is your favorite drawing youve ever done, and why?</p><p>Ive never thought about it before, but probably this drawing I did on the theme of opposites. It shows a landscape rolling into a huge wave crest-ing into clouds. It exemplifies my favorite kind of thing to draw somewhat atmospheric, natural scenes.</p><p>Q. What or who influences/inspires your art the most?</p><p>For who, I have no idea. Ill see pieces of art that I really like and sometimes try to copy the style or theme, but there isnt one artist that has stuck with me as a role model.</p><p>For what, I also have no idea. When Im not draw-ing for a class and not drawing from something I see, Ill often have no idea what to draw. Instead of trying to think of something, Ill just start drawing. Ill let my mind relax and start drawing lines until an idea comes to me, then I turn what Ive done into something concrete. Ill often like the drawings I do this way better than if I have sat down to draw something specific. These drawings are constantly evolving as I draw them, and it is fun to just see what happens.</p><p>STUDENT SPOTLIGHT:</p></li><li><p>Q. How do you know when a drawing is finished?</p><p>I dont. There always seems to be ways I could work on a drawing and improve it. Ill often talk to people and get opinions that way, but its completely subjective, so I guess it is just when I feel done, though sometimes Ill feel done one day then come back to it another and add to it.</p><p>Q. When did you start drawing?I guess you could say I started drawing during elementary school. We had weekly classes with a fun and creative art teacher. I went to a very small school before Nobles, and my homeroom/math/English teacher would spend time every week reading out loud to the whole class. All of the kids could do whatever they wanted during this time, so I would usually draw. Later on, since Ive come to Nobles, Ive gone through periods of drawing and not drawing, which often correspond to whether or not Im taking an art class.</p><p>Q. What is your favorite thing to listen to when you draw?</p><p>Chill music. My tastes shift, but Ive found the best to be atmospheric, electronic stuff. Anything like IJS by Tours, Days by Colobus, Princess by Mint Royale, Australian Summer by Balue, and Outro by M83 are great, but songs like Life in the Fields by Sporting Life or Sweet Disposition by The Tem-per Trap are also some of my favorites.</p><p>13</p><p>RAHEEM BARNETT</p></li><li><p>h_nash54</p><p>arcatz16</p><p>kunwooshin</p><p>miranduh4</p><p>slummerville</p><p>maxmontgomery</p><p>calesalad</p><p>ecmagidson</p><p>miranduh4</p><p>yellowsnowisp</p><p>lucyylyons</p><p>lucyylyons</p></li><li><p> #NoblesCalliope</p><p>g_ret101 ecmagidson morgenmontgomery</p><p>samparizeau</p><p>asherdawson lucyylyons fizzzywater</p><p>arcatz16mattoc21</p></li><li><p>THROWBACK</p><p>16</p></li><li><p>In fall I had a leaf fight with my older brother Noah. He is older and taller than me. He needs a bigger pile of leaves. I won!! YIPPEE!! It was cold and windy </p><p>that day. I said lets go inside brother! </p><p>THURSDAY</p><p>Sabrina...</p></li></ul>