626 CAPRICORN ROAD (SUB)URBAN
MAY 2018
A 92ARTIST Productions Publication
CONTENTS pg 3 Message from the Editor/Credits pg 5 This Month’s Theme pg 8 Metro Blend Always Moving with a Purpose pg 18 Urban Dreams Where You Never Have to Wake Up pg 41 City Girl in the Burbs Basking in the Quiet pg 55 Burbia Alley Escape the Mundane
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WRITING pg 11 The Beauty of Looking Up pg 27 I Fell in Love in the City pg 49 Noises Don’t Exist in the Surburbs pg 58 A New York Flashback pg 72 Songs that Inspired This Issue (Our May Issue Playlist)
MESSAGE FROM THE EDITOR Hey everyone! My name is Ceirra Burton, and I am the creator and editor-in-chief of 626 Capricorn Road. Thank you so much for taking the time to read the May issue. 626 Capricorn Road is a magazine that is ever-changing and with this month’s issue. I wanted to express that feeling a fast pace, growing lifestyle with the theme, (Sub)Urban. I’m excited for you guys to take in the phots and writing represent the theme. I hope that you guys enjoy the journey you are about to go on as you explore the artsy world of 626 Capricorn Road. Happy reading! Website: www.626capricornroad.com Instagram: @626capricornroad Tumblr: 626capricornroad.tumblr.com Twitter: @626CapRoad Facebook: 626 Capricorn Road Pinterest: 626capricornroad Photography by: Ceirra Burton Written Work by: Ceirra Burton 3
This Month’s Theme For the month of May, I wanted to try something a little different than April. I wanted to dive deeper into the idea of fitting into your surroundings, but I wanted to do it from a different perspective. I want to be more observant about the world I grew up in. The theme (Sub)Urban means having one foot in both worlds and how that shapes you as a person. I grew up outside of Los Angeles, but I was always present inside the city. Whether it was going to an event or a game or just wandering around downtown. Being able to go back and forth between both worlds helped me stay grounded. I enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the city, but I loved the quietness of the suburbs. So, I wanted this issue to explore that feeling of having those experiences. So, without further ado, let’s head into (Sub)Urban.
- Ceirra Burton 5
METRO BLEND ALWAYS MOVING WITH A PURPOSE 8
The Beauty of Looking Up I’ve wandered and wandered all of my life, but never looked up. I never saw what lingered above my head. Never thought what leaving my head down would do to my psyche. Keeping to myself and allowing myself to be the wallflower. It’s disheartening that I’ve felt this way. Being comfortable with watching my feet and memorizing the way the cracks laid across the sidewalk. Observing my steps as I begrudgingly shuffle down the concrete. Then one day I was prompted to look up at the sky and I saw the way the sun danced across the city horizon during the late afternoon. At that moment I realized, there’s something about being frozen by beauty that can disintegrate your problems and make you feel like being present is the only thing that matters.
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URBAN DREAMS 18
WHERE YOU NEVER HAVE
TO WAKE UP
DREAM HIGHER THAN THE SKY AND DEEPER THAN THE OCEAN” - UNKNOWN
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“SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE MY ONLY FRIEND
AS LONELY AS I AM, TOGETHER 22
IS THE CITY I LIVE IN, THE CITY OF ANGELS.
WE CRY.” - RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS
I Fell in Love in the City What is it about the city that makes us want to fall in love? Is it the lights? Is it the sounds? What about the views? The dreams made and hearts mended? These thoughts cross my mind all the time, but there’s something about them coming up at 2am. When the city is at its lowest point. Where sirens and streetwalkers score the scene of the night. Where handsome magicians masked as commoners buy your friendship in the light, then steal the value of your soul in the dark. Where thoughts about being in love and being alone pop into my mind, and whether it’s possible to feel them both at the same time. Loneliness is the song of the hour 27
and if you’re not careful, your inner demons may take a joyride with your heart. Lust comes in many forms and the mirage of what we most desire appears when we’re in state of desperation. But then you appeared in my view. The most beautiful girl with the saddest eyes. A hardened demeanor masking a troubled soul. You stumbled out of a bar with a few friends. Drunk but still aware of your surroundings. I caught your attention and you flashed me the most angelic smile I’ve ever witnessed. A heavenly sight worthy of a thousand romantic clichés That would spill out of my heart. You began walking over towards me and I was hypnotized by the confident sway of your hips. The sidewalk became your runway. Stomping to your own beat, and I was your chosen destination. 29
“Hello.” A greeting so simple, yet so captivating. I swore from that moment I was going to do everything in my power to make you mine. We entertained each other with small talk until your friends joined us. We walked down the street to the next bar you and your friends were headed towards. You stayed by my side the entire walk. Then you took a leap of faith and decided to spend the rest of the night with me. We left your friends and walked through the grime and crime that painted the city streets. We picked each other’s
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brain using dangerously flirty tactics. We walked around for hours until we felt the sun bathe our skin. We stooped walking for a moment in the neighborhood that we were in And I swore the sun became envious of your beauty. I stared in awe to the point where you caught on. We locked eyes and I could feel you claiming my soul. Marking your territory with the foundation of your love The sunrays hit us And fueled the electricity sparking between us, and in that moment, We both knew we were going to be an important part of each other’s live.
“DON’T JUDGE MY
STORY BY THE CHAPTER YOU WALKED IN ON” - UNKNOWN
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“EXIT HERE TO GET LOST IN THE CITY OF DREA
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AMS AND GO ON THE JOURNEY TO FUFILL THEM.”
CITY
GIRL IN TH BUR E BS
BASKING IN THE QUIET 41
“I don’t want to impress. I want to inspire.” - Keith Urban
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“A suburb is an attempt to get out of reach of the city without having the city be out of reach.� - Mason Cooley
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Noises Don’t Exist in the Suburbs It was a little after midnight when the noise in my head began to fade. I laid in my bed and stared at the ceiling counting sheep. I hadn’t slept properly as of late. You were on my mind and I hated myself for it. The night we said goodbye played on a loop like I had my own theater house inside my head. Your words bounced around in the hollow chambers of my mind. You didn’t think we could fix our broken bond. You probably didn’t want to try, and I couldn’t change your mind. I accepted your defeat in exchange for my pleas. I’ve wanted you ever since I met you on that city sidewalk at 2am. You were the most beautiful creature that I had ever seen, and I would go through this pain all over again just to feel our love at the first sight one more time. When I held you in my arms for the last time, I told myself not to cry. “Don’t cry in front of her.” “She’s not going to change her mind.” My decision to mask my feelings gave off the impression that I was being strong for the both of us. I wasn’t. I wanted to succumb to the rushing river of sadness threatening to spill from my eyes, but I couldn’t let you see me cry. I never did. You cried for the both of us. I always admired that.
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You filled the well of emotion for us both. On that night, however, The current was too strong, and the well cracked. The excess flow of pain hit me like a semi-truck, and my breathe was stolen by your agony. The realization that I couldn’t be your forever anymore came harder than any amount of pain could ever hit me. It felt too soon to say goodbye, but I couldn’t stop us from saying it. I walked for hours after you left my arms. Neighborhoods swallowed by darkness, hidden from the city lights. I thought the silence would drown out the sounds of my heart breaking, but all it did was echo in the streets. I wished to the heavens that I would be blessed with the ability to turn back time Or gain the strength to show up at your doorstep just to see your face one more time. But I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t. No amount of pleas would reverse our fate and that’s something I wish I didn’t have to fall asleep to. The faint sound of a shattered heart.
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BURBIA ALLEY
ESCAPE THE MUNDAE
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A NEW YORK FLASHBACK The light from the dark gray lamp stood erect behind my desk illuminating the room, making it the main source of light in the apartment. My packing for New York was coming to a close. The realization of leaving a familiar place for a strange new one had not become the daunting thought that I was supposed to have by now. My weight sunk down on top of my last suitcase like I was freefalling into quicksand as I attempted to close it. Standing up, I glanced around the room to see if there was anything else that needed to be packed, sorted, or put away at the moment. Nothing stood out to me that seemed too important to deal with. Making my last scan around the room, my eyes settled on the wall-defining window that sat behind the head of my bed. My feet dragged over the muddy brown carpet as I headed towards the window. My body did not want to move. Moving meant that I would fall into a spider’s web of sentimentality. Externally, my body moved at the identical pace to a living creature suffering from dog day heat, but internally I had torn myself into two halves. The left half lead the way and jumped over hurdles of jubilance, sprinting towards the Manhattan gateway. The right half was frozen in time, standing at a standstill in the middle of my room. At that particular moment, my mind was indifferent to both halves.
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My right hand gripped the string controlling the movement of the flimsy plastic blinds and pulled downward causing them to rapidly move upward. The cool early February morning air seeped into the room like venom, producing an intoxicating odor for me to endure. The other houses next door to my apartment building came into view. The trees hovered over the houses like guardian angels. The San Gabriel Mountains hid from me behind a transparent white, modern office building. Closing my eyes, the air began to seize my body; reminding myself that this would be my last California morning for the next three and a half months. I kept my eyes closed for as long as possible knowing that when they opened; the realization of moving to New York will creep up on me again. I envisioned myself as a New Yorker, taking on the fast-paced mannerisms and emerging myself in the culture, but it was hard to believe that I could let go of my SoCal customs. After what seemed like an adequate amount of time, my eyelids sluggishly opened as if I had come out of a deep sleep. One last lingering look outside was all that I could afford to give.
Shuffling my feet like weary schoolgirl, I trudged reluctantly back to my bed. I picked up my TV remote as the feeling of something wet and slightly slimy brushed lightly across my foot. I looked down to see that my dog, Addie, had appeared in my room. Her soft, sable hair glistened from the light in the room as she looked back to see if anyone had followed her. I chuckled lightly as I sat down the remote, stood up, and pointed to the bed. She jumped up on the bed as I sat back down. I cradled her in my arms like a mother holding her newborn child for the first time. Out of everyone that I would miss, she was at the top of my list. I already felt bad for being a city’s length away from her, but I could not imagine what would happen when I am on the other side of the country for a semester. I looked down at her only to receive a look of longing that gnawed achingly at my heart. It was as if she was anticipating my departure and I could not convince her otherwise. Addie’s eyes drew me in like a seductive black hole that I could not escape. first time. Out of everyone that I would miss, she was at the top of my list. I already felt bad for being a city’s length away from her, but I could not imagine what would happen when I am on the other side of the country for a semester. I looked down at her only to receive a look of longing that gnawed achingly at my heart. It was as if she was anticipating my departure and I could not convince her otherwise. Addie’s eyes drew me in like a seductive black hole that I could not escape. Faint sounds of a woman’s voice drew me back into the reality of my room. The voice now began to reverberate off of the walls. My attention shifted from Addie to the source of the voice. It came from my mother. It was time to leave. It was time to jump off of the cliff of contentment and dive head first into the sea of uncertainty. I was to now say my last goodbyes to my grandma as my
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aunt, who was accompanying my mom and I to New York grabbed my suitcases. My dad followed my mom, my aunt, and I out of our apartment with Addie on her leash. I ran back into the apartment so I can burn every detail of it in my mind to take with me to New York. The daunting feeling of heading across the country finally washed over me. Everyone was waiting on me. I was given the chance to say my last goodbye to Addie before hopping onto the airport shuttle. I squatted down to the ground where Addie was waiting for me. I stood her up on her hind legs and gave her a final kiss, holding her in my arms for as long as I could before boarding.
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I told my dad goodbye and looked at my building as I made it onto the shuttle. The ride to the airport was relatively quiet with the exception of The Kills singing to me from my IPod. The outside world had slowed down despite the shuttle moving at rapid speed once we hit the freeway. I tuned out what was going on around me as I drifted in and out of sleep until a sudden halt jolted me awake signifying that we had made it to the airport. As soon as I stepped out of the shuttle, I immediately went into travel mode. This meant throwing myself into the arbitrary routine of checking in curbside, going through the never-ending line of security, and planting myself down in a seat at the departure gate. The takeoff was my one of my favorite parts of the plane ride. The amount of speed needed for the plane to lift up ofF the ground and head into the sky was invigorating. It became smooth sailing once the plane was in the air. I entertained myself with my music and a miniature stack of fashion magazines. My second favorite part of flying was the landing and knowing that we landed safely at JFK relieved my flying jitters. Coming out of the airport with our luggage in hand, it truly hit me that I had made it to New York, especially when I stepped into the bitter cold weather. There was still a major amount of snow on the ground despite some of it melting onto the streets. The car service that my mom had ordered was waiting for us outside of the baggage claim doors. The car ride into the city was
unbearably long from the driver having to avoid the streets that were still covered in snow as well as the enormous amount of traffic heading towards Manhattan. This was a huge flashback to all of the times that I had to sit through rush hour traffic in LA and the start of the unbecoming of my New York cultural shock. The first night in the city was a nightmare. The hotel that my mom, my aunt and I were supposed to stay at had no elevator, so we had to carry everything up a huge flight of stairs, just to check-in and then another flight of stairs in order to get to our room. As soon as we walked into our room, we were smacked in the face with an agonizing odor of dumpster stench. We took extra precaution with where we sat our suitcases and bags as if we were warding off an STD infestation. We placed all of the bags on the tables around the room and we stood the suitcases up near the miniscule bathroom. My aunt and I went out in search for food and found a small burger joint down the street. The night air felt thick with winter smog. The sounds of the taxis weaving in and out of traffic and other cars dodging their speediness reminded me of home. The essence of the city filled me up like a hot air balloon ready for lift off. We returned to the room and divided up the food. I devoured my portion like a malnourished beast as the feeling of ravaged hunger hit me hard. After dinner, I quickly went through my nightly routine for bed, than grabbed a magazine as my bedtime reading material while my aunt fumbled with the TV channels, and my mom went through her travel folder. I immediately fell asleep as soon as my body hit the springy bed. The next day became a whirlwind of errands for my orientation. The morning was mainly catered to
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check-ins, meetings, and paperwork. The afternoon was spent stocking up on bathroom and school supplies for my dorm. Walking into my dorm for the first time felt like being the unfortunate topic of a joke from a stand-up comic. It was unbearable. The room was the size of walk-in closet in the room of a moderate-sized home. The worst part of it was all of my boxes that I had shipped previous to my departure were thrown into my room, making it impossible to walk through the door. The boxes were extra-large moving boxes that created a barricade in front of the door, so the only possible movement was to slither into the room like a snake searching for its next meal, careful, yet with purpose. The task of unpacking morphed the room into a war zone where all of my boxes as well as my suitcases that I had brought became the enemy infiltrating my bunker. I continued my orientation for the next two days. This consisted of going to the school and filling out more paperwork. The school was located right behind the Lincoln Center. The last tents from Fashion Week were being removed as I arrived at the school. The outside looked like the site of an abandoned building that was attempted to be renovated. The inside looked like the site of a newsroom station where the other students scrambled around the building like they were chasing leads for a breaking news story. After I had finished my last two days, I spent my last night exploring the culinary taste of Midtown New York with my mom and aunt finding comfort in Justin Timberlake’s restaurant. The Southern food was satisfying for all of us as we inhabited the deep-rooted southern indoor dÊcor that occupied the entire restaurant. Once we had finished nourishing ourselves, it was time for me to head back to my dorm. The last night after dinner
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was tough. It would be the last night before I started my sophomore year and the last time I would see my aunt and my mom. The thought of not seeing my mom for the next three and a half months frightened me. It was as if I was losing an important limb I could not replace. Saying goodbye to her became one of the hardest things I had ever done. Our goodbye became a prolonged one that we both knew would be too painful to end. However, the time had come where we were to part ways and pray that my semester in New York would pass by quickly. After her and my aunt left my dorm, I was left to take in this final moment. A breath of mixed emotions escaped my lips. I knew it would be good to be able to live on my own and have new experience outside of California, but knowing that I did not have family on this side of the country hit me like a semi-truck crashing into a concrete wall. Taking another look around the room, I knew that it was better to brave what was to come for me, then to sit and let all of these new experiences pass me by. With this, I reassured myself that everything would be alright and start to organize my new home.
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“Perhaps imagination is only intell
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ligence have fun� - George Scialabba
SONGS THAT INSPIRED THIS ISSUE 72
1. 2. 3. 4.
The City- The 1975 Stop Stop – The Black Keys 10 A.M. Automatic – The Black Keys Say Amen (Saturday Night) – Panic! at the Disco 5. High Road – Tennis 6. Sins of My Youth – Neon Trees 7. No Cities to Love – Sleater Kinney 8. Hurricane Jane – Black Kids 9. Echoes – The Rapture 10. Under Cover of Darkness – The Strokes 11. The Last High – The Dandy Warhols 12. Fake Tales of San Francisco – Arctic Monkeys 13. Please – American Tomahawk 14. LA – Leighton Meester 15. Faster Babe – 2AM Club 16. Sunday Morning – The Velvet Underground 17. LA Devotee – Panic! at the Disco 18. She’s American – The 1975 19. The Recipe – Kendrick Lamar ft. Dr. Dre 20. WTF? – Ok Go
Next Issue Release Date: Jun 25th, 2018 Theme: “Summer Hubris”
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