Teen Art Out 1 by Art Out Magazine

Team

Our editorial team Editor in-chief: Cosmina Simona Mihalca Editors: Vlad Zeca Mihai Carneciu Madalina Simion Georgiana Petu Dragos Dumitrache Cristina Scaloi Ramona Rahimian Mirabela Dan M Photo credits: Dragos Dumitrache Aylin Bayhan Cover: Ruxandra: Marin Cover graphics: Aylin Bayhan Design: Alina Daniela Nicu

We reserve the right to select the submissions received before publishing.

Contact: www.artout.ro redactie@artout.ro

Table of contents

Table of contents Statement

I grew up trying to catch Santa

Fashion and Architecture

The meaning of “Photography”

Dawn’s embrace

Man and abyss

The prison of clouds

A stormy day

A Christmas Carol

Teen art

Otaku & Nijikon

Lines

Criminal personality theory

statement

We let it rock, you let it roll Hello and welcome. Teen Art Out wishes to become a personal approach to the outer world, the written testimony of our society, through the eyes of teenagers, and not only. Be it music, arts, literature, architecture, fashion, events or so many more, Teen Art Out is where you will read about it. It is a place of wonder, a journey through fairytales and honest beliefs, a road filled with memories, dreams and hopes. Combining all that into a small magazine is our mission, and we hope to have you as our faithful reader. Each issue will bear the name of a song, maybe one you know, maybe one you should know. We come to life in a small format, easy-to-read, as a response to your needs. Discover each month our most interesting articles, our visions, the enchanting way it all comes together. This is a place where dreams are shared, born and where they grow into reality. Our intention is to create an extremely friendly redaction, always here to welcome you, to hear your voice. This is just the beginning of the road, and thus I would like to ask for patience and thank this way all those who will read, distribute, write, or help in the makings of the magazine. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Can you hear me now? Let me hear you too * We let it rock to free your energy You let it roll, come on get on your feetâ&#x20AC;? (Scorpions- We let it rock, you let it roll)

Cosmina Simona Mihalca Editor- in- chief Teen Art Out

statement

Starts good ends good could be a motto for Teen Art Out, besides a 2012 movie release, because Teen Art Out is a new editorial concept of the Art Out team, created as a younger branch with innovative views and approaches. Teen Art Out is a magazine created from a necessity of promoting young people (really young people!), a magazine created and managed by teenagers and launched as a focus point for all kind of public, especially teenagers. We chose to appear in English in order to largely promote the young people and, of course, to have contributions from all over the world. I really believe in the high potential that Teen Art Out holds as a new concept on the market, which is not very developed in what concerns the content. I would like to wish good luck to the new Teen Art Out team and I invite you to read it.

Laura Lucia Mihalca Editor-in-chief Art Out

Song of myself

Dragos Dumitrache

Song of myself

I grew up trying to capture Santa Claus! Remember when you were kids and Christmas was just around the corner? You know, that thing you used to celebrate with your family, when there was snow outside, and you could find every possible gift under the tree? When you still believed in the red-coated old man, with a beard and a friendly face, who was flying around at night, delivering presents to the good kids? I do! Looking out the window at the dark and rainy weather, I seem to remember the feeling I used to get when, one morning, everything was white. I remember how anxious I was about the Christmas lights being lit up, the terror of riding in the biggest ride in town. I remember decorating the Christmas tree, caroling around it, wasting my nights around it thinking of ways to catch Santa on tape, how to capture him. I even remember my favorite decoration and how I insisted I place it in the tree. I still do. It’s a Santa Claus figure, full body, made from glass, and his coat isn’t red, it’s more towards a light purple, and he’s skinny. I’m actually surprised it lasted this long. I also remember when, on Saint Nick’s Eve, on the 5th of December, I used to clean my boots and tidy up my room. It looked like a museum made for me, with the purpose of describing my personality. And even if the only object that I allowed to be moved in the morning was the cup of hot cocoa, I had to find presents around my boots. It was different back then; these holidays meant more to everyone. But things change, and memories are for our enjoying them, not for our allowing ourselves to become nostalgic. Be glad for you know what Christmas is all about, and remember, if you forgot! If you wish to share your memories with us, we await your stories at our email address.

Dragos Dumitrache

Song of myself

Dragos Dumitrache

Song of myself

Dragos Dumitrache

Song of myself

Dragos Dumitrache

Arhitectonics

RENZO PIANO AND MAISON HERMÈS For many years, fashion and architecture have grown hand in hand as industries and arts that express ideas of personal, social and cultural identity. For the first number of Teen ART OUT I have inevitably decided to pay them a tribute as they were, are and forever will be my most beloved topics. Both fashion and architecture analyze change in a certain environment and make it visible throughout dressing people or places. Across time, they showed their relationship in many ways: fashion designers and architects both inspired themselves from one another, wrote books about each other’s work or even adapted their creations to the context of the other. What I find most fascinating is how they used each other’s purpose in creating an even stronger bond that survives our contemporary needs and desires. Since the ’90s, important groups have bought prestigious fashion houses. In the meantime, flagship stores have gained critical roles in marketing strategies. The architect requested for these specific stores had to translate the concept of the brand into tangible forms, giving them a long-lasting, iconic image. It has become more and more popular for the most luxury brands to seek the celebrities of architecture today in order to attract the public’s attention. From Renzo Piano’s Maison Hermès to Rem Koolhaas’s Transformer for Prada and Zaha Hadid’s Mobile Art Pavilion for Chanel, here are some of the contemporary masterpieces in terms of taste and quality. First row: the CHANEL Modern Art Pavilion, second row: Maison Hermès, third row: the PRADA Transformer My favorite of all and the one I will present to you in this issue is Maison Hermès by Renzo Piano. Located in Ginza district right in the heart of the Japanese capital, Tokyo, Maison Hermès stands as an illuminating tower with a rigorous shape covered by a shell of glass.

Arhitectonics

Renzo Piano approaches his second Japanese project with a discrete sense of temporary lightness, inspired from the local culture in order to join lightweight architecture with innovative technology. Aiming to separate the outer covering from its supporting frame to the extreme, the extraordinary Italian architect added ab-

stractness to the building’s extremely square façades by using reinforced concrete and glass tiles. Use of such materials helped drinking in light during the day and giving it off at night in order to produce a kaleidoscopic effect. Although what we can see now is a smooth effortlessly beautiful structure with a flawless façade, every single detail left its crucial mark on the final result. The glass bricks are measuring 42.8 x 42.8 cm, a sub-multiple of an Hermès scarf, the ones located at the street level becoming display cases for Hermès products. Smooth on one side and curved on the other, they

Arhitectonics

are specially designed to create a protective curtain of light around the building, marking its existence on the animated architectural scene of Tokyo. The main part of the structure is a metal skeleton intended to absorb seismic shocks through its elastic joints. In case of an earthquake, the entire building moves with uniformly calculated motions assuring the safety and strength of the structure. In the context of a buzzing tireless city, the elegant and imposing Maison HermĂ¨s stands out as a portal of light and serenity, radiating its glow from inside out. Here is, I believe, the perfect combination of fashion and architecture in its most hypnotizing way, demonstrating to the world once again that true love never dies.

Aylin Bayhan

Arhitectonics

Aylin Bayhan

Photo Graphics

The meaning of “photography” As specialists say, it is a technique which creates images through light action. Moreover, the word “photography” finds its origins in the Greek word “photos”, meaning light and “graphein”, to draw. But what does it mean to ME? Could I give it my own definition? Of course I can. By what one experiences, through different ways of perceiving the surrounding world and various modalities of capturing a moment, photography can be given different meanings from one person to another. Firstly, from my point of view, “photography” represents a chance to show the world seen through one’s own eyes, a unique opportunity to relate a whole story without the need of even one single word. What I am completely glad about is that we are different. Consequently, each person describes through the “eyes” of their camera a unique universe, sometimes transforming a commonplace subject into a surreal one. How? Through an undiscovered original perspective, through the effect of light and shadows and an outstanding composition. Secondly, photography is the “tool”, which helps you retain memories untouched, people or places, which you have always dreamed of, which you have met for the first time and maybe touched for the last time. What would the world be without photography? Every sweet moment would inevitably have been erased in time. Maybe slight ideas about the past times would still have been present in out minds, as in a foggy dream, but the details would definitely have been erased. This is the reason why I say PHOTOGRAPH!!! Do not let valuable images drown in the memory. We all need them, as we all need your story! Share the world those astounding moments that you have lived and you will certainly be appreciated for this amazing gift you brought to the world.

Georgiana Petu

Photo Graphics

Georgiana Petu

Cool story, bro

Dawn’s embrace came that day no more. I surrendered all. They have slain me with their putrid, sickeningly slow ticking of their lead-like hands. I felt each reverberation of their foul screech puncturing my timpani, the obstreperous poison damaging the occiput, pounding and hitting franticly against the walls of my skull. I tried?! Have I not tried to put an end to their manic fandango? Alas, I failed. Thirty one million five hundred and thirty six. Each and every single blow have I felt shattering my spirit, my heart, my mind, twisting and turning as if under the trepidations of induced epilepsy. This ocean of lies… It will never be forgotten. They set out to sea with the tide, but they always come back with the waves. Heed my warning: when the sails go up and the mountains will fade away, there will only be the ocean and you. You will reap what you have sown. You had given me hope, strength to carry on, molded me in the image of Pallas and Pluto. Was it not you who also took it all away and made me mortal once again? Was it not you who kept me warm, nested, caring, amidst the thundering storm? And was it not you that also mercilessly threw me away, into the flaming hurricane? You were witness and culprit, yet you did not act. You told me not to be afraid of the darkness ahead, but instead instructed me to embrace it. You told me you did it for the “greater good”. You said you cared. You said you loved. You said you did. “Oh, you! Thou art but a poor disconsolate soul looking for approval. Far too long have you been abased and made a mockery of by the bon-ton mendicant. But you can rest now. The day has passed and the time is upon us: come, we must prepare for the eternal retreat. Let go your burden. Be at peace now. Her words can no longer do you any harm.” It has spoken. I have spoken. The day has ended. It is you who have lost in the end. I bid thee farewell, stranger. I wish you not the freedom you crave, nor the ephemeron amatory you so lustily strive to live by. I only wish that you may never come across someone like me again; in hopes that you in turn will also be cursed to put your faith in people resembling yourself; for the end of any man is a room full of mirrors. Requiescat in pace, my love, my long forgotten sin. Nulla e reale; tutto e lecito.

Vlad Cristian Zeca

Cool story, bro

Man and abyss The old man leaned against the edge of the precipice, gazing upon the vivid, crystal clear water under him. In the diffuse light emerging from the last rays of the dawning sun, the rocks and boulders down below seemed to shrink to pebbles. His dangling feet hung loose from his body and the only thing that prevented him from plunging into the abyss was his hands. He was ready to embrace eternity. He felt all his sorrow pass away. All the misery that had been his life now faded slowly from his memory. His spirit was restrained by earthly bounds no more. A cold shiver went up and down his back, as he leaned further over the immense nothingness, which was lying in wait, stalking, like a fierce beast, with its jaws wide open, ready to swallow anyone who dared venture inside of it. A hot tear made its way across his cheek and slowly but surely, dripped off his face and fell down onto the pebbles. The waves washed away the tears, as they all fell, one by one, hitting the hard stones at the bottom of the pit. At any moment, the tears would stop, and instead of them there would come a silence. A silence so grave, a silence so deep, that it would drive the mind of the healthiest man to a state of madness so bizarre, it would forever place him outside the reach of the love of God. Then, the man looked back, glancing over his shoulder, at the world that made him what he was. The world that brought him to this point in life where he realized, despite having achieved things few men on Earth ever dreamed of, it was all in vain. The world corrupted him, changed and destroyed him. He would never be the man he used to be. He knew very well there was no turning back. No earthly intervention could make him change his mind about what he was going to do. In his last moments, he must have thought to himself: â&#x20AC;&#x153;Why am I doing this? Does it really give me no choice other than to take

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from me what has been given to me? Have I really sinned so badly that I would never be allowed a second chance? I must be foolish, asking myself such questions right now.” It is said that, when people are on the verge of death, they feel a flavor of food in their mouths. All his life, the man had studied the way the body works and had tried to unravel all its secrets, but in the end, his need to learn was greater than his will to live. He was the kind of man that needed solid proof for anything. The kind of man that, if lacking a logical explanation, a subject would be as valuable to him as is garbage to a wealthy man. He rarely found something he could not explain, but this taste he now felt in his mouth was something so unearthly, he would not even dare think about it. “Honey”, he said to himself. “This peculiar taste of honey… So special, so unique, so divine! Indeed, I must have been wrong all these years…” He calmly lifted himself up from the edge. The chilly wind rushed through his white hair, against his body and made him feel like a new man. He felt, for the first time in his life, ironically, reinvigorated. He straightened his back and stood firm for a couple of seconds, facing the sunset as if saluting it with all his respect. A horrible cry was heard from behind the precipice. A girl with a red backpack reached out to try to catch him by the coat. She barely touched him. Her face turned a horrid white. She stood there, motionless, for a few moments. Her heart was racing and her whole body was trembling with fear. Some minutes later, she managed to look down. The vivid, crystal clear water was there, gently touching the pebbles and washing them with great care. The diffuse light of the last rays of the dawning sun drifted, almost unnoticeably, across the sea and into the outskirts of infinity, leaving a dark trail behind it, a trail that will last forevermore.

Cool story, bro

Aylin Bayhan

Vlad Cristian Zeca

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The prison of clouds On the porch of a representative American house, a girl was laying alone, stretched on a sun-bed that was curiously swaying, because of her own weight or because of the wind that began moments ago, descending rapidly from hills covered with bushy trees. Her glance was filled with hatred, her eyes embellished with fear and soreness were gazing far in the distance, covering the clouds that were circling her as if ensnaring her in a divine prison. Shaking her thin, weak foot, with its boot she’d never abandon for a comfortable pair of flip-flops, even though it was a fervid summer. At least until then. A fat, round drop lodged in her hand and, albeit it was just a tiny sign that the rain would unleash, raising tons of debris in the air and dumping them on the pristine soil, the girl checked with a shiver her eyelids, being sure of the fact that was the spring of a torment. But no, those black clouds maybe reflected her neglected soul, filled with resent… or were they only “Storm Bringers”? She raised her body slowly, taking all the time needed, the chair snapping over her weight once again and she headed towards the already moisture forest. For her, everything was moving in slow-motion, crawling besides her and she just couldn’t bring herself together to react to anything. She was frightened. She reached a tree, but when she drew her hand back and looked at her hand, the only thing she perceived was blood… Blood. Scarlet, so dreadfully coloured that a shiver overwhelmed her. She felt, for an instant, closer to the clouds. Closer to the crust of the soul she wanted to get rid of. She was clutching another person... or maybe just a ghost, because no one was around her, except... a place. She didn’t recognize the whereabouts. A drop of blood collided with a wet leaf and resounded like a blast in her head. And that was the moment she noticed...her. The blend of feelings she was dominated by couldn’t persuade her of nothing. Stop and gaze towards her? Turn around and run for the porch, where everything felt like a glorious prison? Evade the demons of forever? She was conscious this choice could be as well her last one, world-shat-

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tering. Shaking. She was well shaking, might even sob after all the reasoning she’d done. It wasn’t her fault her heart was ajar – but she didn’t know what was going to follow. But then, the kindling shadow addressed her, with a crystal clear voice, despite the jingling of a waterfall behind her. Yes, it was a frail river that was split into thousand white drops, clashing into the ocean. “You know who you are. And you’ll never be able to replace me. You’re no better than me. And you can’t do anything to change our fate, which, believe it or not, regards us both.” Her face was still hidden behind a steamy cloud... or it was a charm and all this was just a dream. A dreadful nightmare. She thought about all the plans she’d made... She thought she could fulfil her dreams, she was still young enough, she still got time...She breathed in hard, inhaling the cold air and a few splashes of rain or the aroma of the mist surrounding her. The banshee facing her was not moving – only her dark, mysterious hair. And then, she felt how her hands were involuntarily lifted in front of her. She remembered the swaying chair from her porch, but still, she took some steps towards... the spectre. But when she faintly touched her cold skin, she figured that everything was real, even the words spoken moments ago. Her heart bled – blackness, recalling every word, every flinch of hate and every drop of pain. And then, almost without an effort, she shoved the one in shadows. She thrust her to the ocean that, whirling and crashing, was waiting for her. But in the smooth freefall, the veneer fell aside. The girl that, before feeling the first droplet of muddy water was standing on her veranda was now watching the waves that were approaching her face. Fast. Strong. And she shuddered. She sensed how she was pulled by an invisible wire towards the ocean. It seems after all, the girl managed to escape the Prison of Clouds.

Mihai Carneciu

Cool story, bro

A stormy day It was a usual Sunday. As always, I was drinking my cup of dandelion tea on the terrace. A ravishing morning! The strong light coming from sunrays was dazzling me, but at the same time warmed me. The warm tones lured with the fresh broken coolness of air. This scenery has been built as a masterpiece when imposing clouds have suddenly set on the sky where they were going to reign all day long. Unexpectedly, they brought with them the entire pomp. Water flows began to spout the very like rain curtains. I was taken hold of the droplets ...their noise bewitched me in a state of hypnosis, but being surprisingly a pleasant hex. At first glance, they were falling down the earth, following a natural course; they duly arrived to wash all the stains and clear the air. Some even dared to stop by at my window and ended up oozing down my cheek; while feeling the warmness of my skin they simply melted, just like a cute girl blushing! I ran quickly inside but, still, I didn’t want to take my eyes from the rain curtain whose folds were constantly being swinged by the tricky wind -up and down, back and forth. Great Lord, where does come from so much water, as the Noe’s flood was coming? I huddled my warm teacup incomparable to the cold blood rain. When dealing with such momentous nature phenomena, a more thorough analysis is requested, for you never know when the spirits of the unknown universe decide to show you either a revelation either a glimpse of a miracle. From my flat, I looked down on the main road to see the people running on the streets, just like little bugs, scared out of their wits and trying to find a way out, but rather in this case a way in because this monstrous rain was so harsh on them Flags, posters, everything was blown out, trees were almost being pulled out from the ground barely holding on to this rush assault. Pure dementia failed to arouse my lively curiosity and make me want to see more of it. However, I didn’t give in; I continued to watch this horrific show. As if all this wasn’t enough and the masterpiece would have been incomplete, thunders and lightening fell upon our once calm city. It seemed that the nature force wouldn’t stop exerting her force. What could be the worst-

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case scenario, if not this one? When these natural phenomenons come out from nowhere, it really makes us, or at least me, wonder about our infinitesimal power. It’s so wicked to know that you are so little confronting with this gigantesque power and that your life could be taken so easily. Another question springs to my mind then: Have I done everything I wanted until now? Even so, what should I do in this turning point? Should I pray?... Depressing thoughts came to my mind while looking at this evil rain so I decided not to be the witness of this anymore. After all that has happened, I still didn’t do anything, sitting at my bureau, trying to do something, to create, to make myself useful, but nothing. I felt repugnant to any action that involved any mental effort. However, a soft silence installed in my body and my mind. I closed my eyes and just sat there, just trying to immortalize the moment and absorb its essence. It felt so good to be doing nothing, as I thought for a second that time runs through my veins and it stopped right in my being, I was its master finally. Words aren’t enough to describe that feeling. It’s only you, a careless image of yourself, as the world slowly disappears and you drift to another world. Then, you’re able to walk around, while time stands still for you, and you think for a moment that you can change whatever you desire. No, it isn’t a dream; it’s just another real fact. Believe it or not, cherish it while you can, because maybe it makes you realize how important you are, and that, in fact, you do have power to control even the darkest situations. A little low rumble wakes me up and I opened my eyes, I came back. Had it been one second longer… Oh, so little did I know about how life can be revealed...Now, that I was offered only a sip, I’m even thirstier... Deafening sounds from outside still chimed through the entire house, even in the smallest hidden corner, so nothing left to do but leave this hostile place and escape in my dream full paradise. I got into bed, leaving the window only half closed. I fell asleep as quickly as this brute of rain came, never noticing how this happened: so quietly, cryptically. Just wrap your troubles in dreams and dream your troubles away...

Cristiana Ioana Scaloi

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Aylin Bayhan

Cool story, bro

A Christmas Carol The snow lay like a frosty icing on a Christmas cake, its whiteness covering the streets from the centre of the town like a fluffy blanket. It was still snowing, pretty little white wonders falling from the sky, finally becoming part of the colorless covering, which was beautifully shining, reflecting the lights of the little bulbs ornamenting each building. It was Christmas, and the centre of the town was picturesquely ornamented, looking like a caption from Dickens’ story. Every little building had its stray of colorful bulbs, and some even had posters with Santa Claus and snowmen posted on them. It felt like magic, seeing the mixture of sparkling white and dazzling colors, ubiquitous in the city centre. But the most noticeable features were the statues situated in front of the theatre. Enormous and magnificently illuminated, they represented the scene of the Savior’s birth. There was also a huge snowman nearby, which smiled friendly and, when you least expected it, shouted happily: “Merry Christmas!” However, the snowman’s chants were not the only soundtrack of the place. Every evening, at 9 o’clock, there was a choir singing heavenly carols for a whole hour. Nonetheless, the whole scene would not be complete without Santa Claus! And there was one, who came unexpectedly and gave the children who were able to answer a question correctly beautifully packed presents containing interesting toys, illustrated books or delicious sweets. Due to this mystery of Santa’s apparition, the place was always full of children, waiting for this dear old man to arrive. Everybody could hardly wait for the night to come, so that they could go out and admire the awe-inspiring centre of the town, which completely immersed them into the spirit of Christmas, the magical days which bring all the family together and fill their hearts with joy.

Mirabela Dan

Teen art

My name is Madalina Andreea Lungu (Lynna) and I’m 16 years old painter. I am in 10th grade at ‘’Nicolae Tonitza’’ Fine Arts Highschool,Bucharest. I graduated School of Arts No. 5 where i studied for 4 years with Zamfira Galan. My favourite artists are Nicolae Grigorescu, Theodor Aman and Salvador Dalí.I love painting and drawing landscapes and portraits. I’m not much of a planner when it comes to my paintings,I can say my art is spontaneous,original and very optimistic. The message in my work is always positive and may be different for every admirer. I like to use different kinds of materials, mostly acrilic combined with oil and aquarel.I choosed painting to express myself because,in my opinion it’s the best way to show people how I see the world,show them my feelings and my thoughts using colors. When I painted ‘’ Sunset at the old mill’’I was inspired by an amazing sunset i photographed some years ago and some pictures of mills from Holland that i saw so i decided to combine them.

Teen art

Madalina Andreea Lungu

Events

O TA K U & N I J I K O N Otaku and Nijikon are two of the most important anime/manga conventions in Bucharest and in Romania. Otaku usually takes place in the middle of September and Nijikon takes place at the end of October. Both start Friday night with an opening concert, where the band is usually Japanese and they last the whole weekend which means that there are three days of super fun and party. But before we get to the real deal, if you are not familiar with this kind of events, you might not understand what they are, so here is a little definition. An anime/manga convention is kind of a reunion where anime/manga fans from all over the country come to be part of. Here you can subscribe to a workshop (where you can learn origami, how to write kanji, how to make anime paper figurines and many more other awesome things), watch the AMVs( Anime Music Video) made by fans or pros or you can buy cute things from the stands placed all over the place. At every convention the most awaited thing is the Cosplay Contest. Cosplay is short for costume play and the meaning of it is quite simple you dress in your favorite anime/manga/video game character you make a little show with music on the background and you perform it in front of the fans. In the end a jury will choose the winners. And what is awesome is that last year Nijikon had an EuroCosplay contest which was a total success! I really enjoy going to this events because I meet new people, socialize, have fun, buy crazy stuff (I bought a hat with cat ears this year), laugh with people I have barely met, give/receive free hugs and of course I love the AMV and Cosplay contests ( I am a huge fan of Cosplay even though I am afraid to do one ). When I went for the first time to an event like this (I think it was Nijikon) I met three of my best friends ever, thanks to a free hugs campaign. I think it was for the first time in my life when I felt I have known them for years, even though I had just met them. I also like the fact that when you enter the building you feel like you entered through a portal and into another world, a world where you can freely express yourself without being criticized, where you can become whoever you want, however you want, you can have a world where being yourself is the most beautiful thing, and trust me releasing your true self is the most freeing thing in the world. Otaku and Nijikon are places where a new world is created, the world of fun and freedom. Crossberry June ^_^

Ramona Rahimian

The unwritten

L i n es Everything’s about lines: start lines, waiting lines and finish lines. But, the most important are the lines that separate you from others. You keep boundaries, try to cross others’. I couldn’t help but wonder: what happens when you cross them? Hope that everything will change, or will it be the same? It’s taking a risk that makes you over think...the fight, the struggle, the climb, was all worth it? Then you start building walls around you. It’s in your dreams, hoping that, in the morning, life would be better, people would let you in. Then, it plays with your mind all day long, almost killing you, because you ask yourself “what if it were different?”,”what if I wouldn’t have done it this way?” Fighting to be happy, to be wanted, but then realizing that, at the end of the day, when things fade away, when people go to sleep, all you’re left with is yourself. In the end you figure out that you won’t be needing happiness tomorrow, you needed it today, but you were worrying too much to enjoy little things that make life great. Then you stop, you give up drawing lines, stop obsessing about them and “what ifs”. Because truth is that life is pretty messy and complicated even without lines.

Aylin Bayhan

Psych(o)

Criminal personality theor y Why do some people become, at some point in their lives, criminals? A comprehensive criminal personality theory (Jean Pinatel) considers that in a criminal behavior, “passing the act” is the decisive element. This element is conditioned by four important personality components: selfishness, emotional and affective instability, aggression and emotional indifference. Criminals have all these components only associated because none of them, by themselves, are actually abnormal. You can find everywhere aggressive people, others might be just emotional indifferent but they are not criminals. Due to negative experiences, poor education received inside the family and some antisocial practices, the offender is an unstable individual in terms of emotions and actions. He has unmotivated leaps from one extreme to another and inconstancy in reaction to stimuli. Emotional instability is part of the disorder that is characterized by affectivity offenders: lack of emotional autonomy, insufficient development of emotional self-control, emotions and feelings underdeveloped superior, especially the moral etc.. All this leads to lack of self-assessment and evaluation skills appropriate to the lack of objectivity towards oneself and others. It is obvious that any offender is a misfit in society whose education was done poorly or in adverse conditions. In most cases, criminals come from dysfunctional families (parents deceased, divorced, criminals, alcoholics), where there are conditions, understanding or concern for education of children. If the socio-cultural level of the parents is not high enough and they don’t pay attention to the rules on a daily basis, this will put up a default social maladjustment. Antisocial attitudes resulting from improper influence rooting environment lead to negative habits, deviance and then the offensive behavior. Aware of the socially destructive character of the criminal act, the offender is working in secret, he is writing notes, plans and runs away from the eyes of all people, in general, and the authorities in particular. Representing a strong dominant personality, duplicity offender is his second nature, not only mask while committing criminal act, but all the time. He plays the role of a right, honest man of the concerns of a different nature. This “game” artificially distorts his acts and deeds everyday, making it easy to track down for a good observer. Affective immaturity is a persistent gap between his cognitive and affective processes in favor of the latter. Thanks to psycho-emotional imbalances, emotional immaturity lead to mental rigidity, disproportionate reactions, predominantly in relation to the pleasure principle of reality. Emotionally immature child use behavior (crying bouts, seizures, etc..) to obtain immediate pleasures, sometimes minor and insignificant. There is a consistent

Psych(o)

attitude towards the real issues and important issues, his self-criticism and critical position are unrealistic, and he is emotionally unstable. Emotional immaturity associated with intellectual immaturity predisposes the offender to events and antisocial behavior with very serious consequences. Frustration is an emotional state experienced by a few criminals when some (rights, rewards, satisfaction, etc) who believes he is entitled or when in the way of obtaining such rights shall interpose obstacles. Frustration is felt in affective-cognitive as a state of crisis (a critical state, voltage) that disrupts, for the moment, the activity of cortical control of the court action, simultaneously generating excitement. Criminals react differently to situations frustrating, from failure (frustration tolerance) and postponement of satisfaction to aggressive behavior. The highly frustrated tend to lose self-control at the moment, acting erratic, unsteady, atypical, aggressive and violent, with serious antisocial consequences. Inferiority complex is a result of deficiencies, real or imaginary infirmity and is enhanced by contempt, disapproval experimental tacit or others. Inferiority complex often incites compensatory behaviors, and for offenders facing less antisocial behavior type. Pinatel J. (1971) shows that the great majority of offenders have a core personality whose components are: selfishness, instability, aggression and emotional indifference. Aggressiveness occurs when the individual is unable to satisfy the desires and manifests through violent and destructive behavior. The most common forms of aggression are auto-aggressiveness and hetero-aggressiveness. In auto-aggressiveness, people express themselves through self-mutilation, attempted suicide or even suicide. Hetero-aggressiveness involves channeling violence to others, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s manifested by multiple forms, such as murder, robbery, rape, attempted murder, injury, etc.. J. Pinatel May highlights two distinct forms of aggression: casual and professional. Aggression characterized by spontaneity and occasional violence, is more common in crimes of passion. Professional aggression characterized by violent behavior, durable, which shows that a constant offenderâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s personality, he manifested aggressive deliberately, consciously. Affective or emotional indifference is closely related to egocentrism and moral insensitivity. It is characterized by the inability of the offender to understand the pains and needs of others, the satisfaction felt from the pain of others. Indifference affective states play in background inhibition and emotional disorganization. This side of the offenderâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s personality is formed at an early age, being one of the main weaknesses of the socialization process, an important role in this plan is the malfunction of family structure and educational style. Usually, the offender is not aware of his own emotional state of inhibition, which explains both calm and cool with a series of crimes committed by extreme violence.

Madalina Simion