626 CAPRICORN ROAD ETHEREAL COMPLEX
MARCH 2018
A 92ARTIST Productions Publication
Table of Contents Part 1: Light Above Matter “How Do You Color a Ghost?” “Beauty is Neither Air nor Water” “Dainty Rebel”
Part 2: Naturally Complicated “Watch Her Run” “Graffiti Spirit” “Smoke Screen” “Gray Tones and Sepia Views”
Part 3: Hazy Dreams
“Under Your Spell” “I Left My Love Behind Like Breadcrumbs” “Sincerely Yours” “Hello Spring” “Charcoal Potion”
PART 1
LIGHT ABOVE MATTER
HOW DO YOU COLOR A GHOST?
A strange phenomenon it is to be a living being. To move as you please and to love as you will. Unabashedly ashamed of the beauty on your features. Why is that? Do you not want the praise? Do you not want to be seen in colorful light? If not, then how do you appear to the world? Are you a beacon of technicolor light? Or are you as transparent as a mystical entity? How do you paint yourself? With warm tones for passion and comfort? With cold tones for taciturn apathy? Do you bathe in rampant sunlight? Or do you hide in the depths of darkness? I ask because I’ve never encountered someone like you and neither have my peers. Someone who is a translucent symbol of emptiness amongst vivid crowds. Isn’t it dangerous to not care? Doesn’t it hurt to not feel? I certainly cannot understand it. So, you tell me. How do you color a ghost?
BEAUTY IS NEITHER AIR NOR WATER
Beauty is neither air nor water. It is neither a solid or a liquid It is not a dream nor a reality It is a concept made for man to feel adequate. That shouldn’t be the case. Why are we labeled as “other”? Why do we all not possess the same beauty? Where are the equalists ready to march into battle? Where is the erasure of division? Why must we be labeled according to the stereotype in our midst? Why must we pretend that our outer beauty is more valued than our inner beauty? Why are we told to be ashamed of our scars?
Why is it in our curriculums? Who put it there? Why is it still there? Is it unspoken? Where does the term “beauty� come from? What makes something beautiful? What makes it unpleasant? What is not pleasing to the eye that can be accepted by the heart? What thoughts are not processed by the mind that cannot exit as kind words from the mouth? Is it in our environment? Is it learned in our homes? In our societies? Where? If beauty is neither air nor water, What is it?
DAINTY
REBEL
Hear ye! Hear ye! Here comes thy dainty rebel Masquerading as a confident woman. She forgoes her precious training for something more dissident. She seeks to find more meaning to her life than being just another girl in the world. It is her time to explore the paths ahead through the forest and into the city. Gone are the ways of her past. Now she must forge her own way. An ingenious plan to the outside eye. Be the girl to defy everything you’ve been taught to believe, yet retain your manners and your delicate speech.
Light in her step, but hard with her touch. It’s not enough for her to just be present. She wants to rule the world. But first, there is something she must do. She must overcome her spilt personality She cannot exude natural rebellion if she retreats back to her gentle poise. She cannot speak her mind if she is cautious about her thoughts “One or the other” they say. Not both. “Impossible” she responds. She realizes she’s going to have to prove her worth And she will until her will runs out. She knights herself as a dainty rebel A fearless warrior with a watchful eye.
PART 2 NATURALLY COMPLICATED
WATCH HER RUN
Her spirit was a wild and untamable force. You couldn’t stop her if you tried. Not that you wanted to. She was someone who you aspired to be. Someone who lived every day according to their own rules. Making their own path and walking their own truth. It was admirable. To be able to live a life full of whole-hearted happiness. It must be exciting. To live amongst the stars. What an exciting sight to see To witness her change her life because it was what was best for her. Not at the expense of someone else.
Breathing life into her dreams like the trees surrounding her. I would give anything to revel in her divinity. Just for a moment. So, I could feel the same joy that makes her smile widely in the daylight, and sleep soundly at night. What has she done to become who she is today? Underneath the looks of accomplishment, there must be the remains of hearts broken The residue of words unspoken Scars of a battered soul It’s all there isn’t it? Isn’t that why she’s setting the world on fire right now?
GRAFFITTI SPIRIT
The opening notes to “Charmer” ring out from her speakers, As she drives back into town. She has nowhere to go and it frightens her She’s left all that she’s known and must now find a place to rest for the evening. It’s also a free experience. She’s never been on her own before. Everything around her is taken in with eyes of wonder. How has she never thought of leaving before? Or is the thought too painful to bear? What could influence her decision and persuade her to let go of her trepidations.
Leaving behind a life with misery in the forecast To search for something bigger than her imagination A life full of flourished dreams and everlasting hope She stands amongst the brick looking out in front of her. Waiting for a sign to appear. Something that she can claim as hers for the time being, Until she can step out confidently on her own. Heading into a world that shames visions like hers and cracks down on the graffiti spirit she possesses.
SMOKE
SCREEN
It was blinding madness that led me to you. A smoke screen persuasion. It’s electrifying to think about how many tricks you have up your sleeve. What you can do to all those who grab your attention. How did you come up with this method? To make people believe the illusion? To make them believe that your secrets lay bare on the surface? You’re not as transparent as you think. I can read you better than anyone. How? Well, I learned from the best. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?
I entertained myself for too long contemplating how to approach you. You’ve gone mad from holding up the screen for so long. Why can’t you take it down? Are you afraid of exposing yourself? What do you have to be ashamed of? What is it that you are afraid of people seeing? Your scars are no different than anyone else’s. You bleed the same way as your adversaries. Your ghosts travel the same distance as theirs do. So, what’s the burden you long to keep buried inside?
Gray Tones and Sepia Views
I once saw a world where color was a faded memory. Visions of gray hysteria surrounded me. A shed of brown light engulfed me and made me melancholy . I wondered what the world looked like before I arrived. Whether there was pure elation or utter sadness. Whether being gregarious about life was celebrated or shamed. Whether a starry-eyed point of view was engrained or erased. It’s not so easy to move forward when you have so many questions about the past. It’s harder to dream of a future where my eyes don’t paint the world black and white. Where I can roam free through seas of blues and lands of green. Where fiery reds, bright yellows, and vivacious oranges shine down on me. Where my nights are painted by majestic purples and regal golds. Is it strange to dye my world in rich colors? Or is it stranger to accept the tints and shades of ambiguity?
PART 3
HAZY DREAMS
UNDER YOUR SPELL
You’ve put a spell on me darling and I never want to come out of it. Your love moves me like the wind through the trees. And hits me like the crash of ocean waves to the sand. I admire how powerful you became Holding your own against all that stood up to you. How mighty you stood like a hundred-year-old oak tree. It’s such a sight to see and you’ve caught me, my love. I’ll follow you wherever you lead. Blind and unconditionally. There’s nothing that you can do that’ll make me retreat. Nothing you can say that will sway me.
I’ll be your support system for as long as you can bear the weight. I’ll chain myself to you in hopeless devotion. I’ve never walked alongside anyone as their equal. I’ve always wondered what it would be like.
Then you came to me like lightning in the sky and shook my world. I tripped over my feet a thousand times before I finally fell for you. Now you have a hold on me, like a magician with his crowd. It’s complete wizardry how you have me this enticed. This intrigued in what you cast upon me. A spell binding romance that shall never be broken.
I LEFT MY LOVE BEHIND LIKE BREADCRUMBS
I loved him with everything I had. I waited for as long as I could until he played his card. The card of abandonment. I told him I would wait to start our journey together. But he didn’t listen. He never did. We were to trek through the forest together like children on an adventure. Discovering each other all over again. I’ve been here before. I knew where to go, but he didn’t. So, I took my heart and broke it into little pieces. Hoping he would pick them back up and mend them together for me. I even left behind the fasteners But he never showed. I came back to the edge of the forest and gazed at the changing horizon. He should’ve been here by now. Why isn’t he here? Where could he be?
I can’t put the pieces back together all by myself. The light begins to transform from warm highlights to cold shadows. Maybe, I was meant to walk through the forest alone. I begin to walk again. I walked and walked until I came to a gray hued clearing. I sat on the ground and contemplated what went wrong. Did I start the breadcrumbs too late? Was there not enough? Or did he give me back my heart and the pieces I dropped were his? Did I break his heart into tiny pieces to create my own trail? Is that why he didn’t show? Cause he doesn’t want his heart back?
SINCERELY YOURS
Dear lover of mine, You complete me in ways you’ll never know. It’s so easy to think of you whenever I’m sad. I wish you were still here. I think you would like the person I’ve become. I think she would move you in ways that you longed for before you left. Becoming my own inspiration. A statuette standing tall and proud in your eyes. A mind full of complex clarity. A heart full of unconditional love. You could run to me with a weary conscience and I would embrace you with open arms. I’ve grown to love the “new” me. I know you would have to. It’s amazing to think that it’s been so long since I last saw you. We’ve been apart for what feels like an eternity and I’m going stir crazy thinking about you. If these words ever reached you, I want you to know I mean every one of them.
HELLO SPRING
What a beautiful morning to be alive. How wonderful it is to see life coming back to its natural form. It’s interesting how Mother Nature can defy time and space. How she can regenerate herself season-to-season. What is her secret? What is her routine? How is she capable of such beautiful creations? I wonder if there has ever been a moment where she wanted to give up. If she wanted to end the cycle as winter came and froze her in her place. I wonder if Father Time had any to do with it? Speaking of. What is Mother Nature’s relationship to Father Time? How did they meet? Was it love at first sight? Or was it mutual hatred for one another? How did they get their names? What is their secret for staying in perfect harmony for so long?
CHARCOAL POTION
Careful my love. There’s something wicked amongst us. Something amongst the neighboring trees. Don’t get to close or it’ll consume you. “What?” That dark, delicious concoction leaking from the seedy bark. You must tread lightly or else it’ll seep into your skin. Grab ahold of you and suck out all the virtue from your pores. Taking the light from you and leaving behind vile, murky dust that attaches to your soul. A black magic that can take the most moral-standing citizen and bathe him in gloomy darkness. Evil surrounds us in this forest. We must be careful when we ask for directions as we can be swayed into trickery. Committing deeds that wash away our decency and replace it with unrestrained urges. Filtered faults disappear and we are left with nothing, but the residue of our goodness.
“And all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams, are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footsteps gleams, in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams.” – Edgar Allan Poe
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Self-Portraits by: Ceirra Burton Written Work by: Ceirra Burton
Next Issue Release Date: April 23rd, 2018 Theme: “Enter Scale Theory”