Voices Magazine 7 by Concordian International School

Concordian International School

Concordian Arts Magazine Issue 7 June 2024

June17 , 2024

DearConcordianCommunity,

Welcometoour7thissue,2024editionofVOICES

VoicesmagazinepromotescreativityinConcordianInternationalSchoolby encouragingandprovidingthisplatformtopublishandappreciateouragency,ideas, andtalent.

ThethemeofthisissueisA.I.3.

WeexaminethreeinterpretationsoftheacronymA.I.:

ArtificialIntelligence ,AuthenticImagination ,andArtisticIntent .

TheubiquityofAIbringsabouttheknowledgequestionofwhethersometypesof knowledgearemoreusefulthanothers.TheadvancementofAIconsequently createsanewlandscapeforustonavigateinallpartsoflife,notonlycreativityand arts,asVoiceshereexplores.

WerealizethatthefutureisweightedwithsensitiveissuessuchasAI,nuclearand biologicaldevelopmentsandclimatechange.Wearepartofsolutionstothe unforeseeablefuture,ourguidingvaluesofintegrity,intellect,visionandcompassion arelightingourpaths.

Voicesisthecompilationoftheeffortsofmany.Theteamwouldliketogivespecial thankstoKhunVarnnee,Ms.Baertschy,Mr . Maurice,Mr . Roxy,Mr.Bill,Ms.Prinz,and thebraveandbrilliantwhosharetheirartisticendeavors.

Pleaseenjoyandpleasecontribute!

TheVoicesTeam

ADE Ananda Brooks

Farmin’ in the Rain

Digital piece on sketchbook app, 120cm x 80cm

A vision of where all food starts, where the most basic elements are created. The water from the rain, the work and the fertiliser. Buffalo and plants come together to create something amazing .

A New Dish

Oil and acrylic on canvas, 150cm x 200cm

Starting up in the kitchen to make a new dish, some familiar steps are taken. Dice the onion and garlic. Add a little oil and fry till translucent. You may not know yet how it will end up but the smell is already so exciting. Crafting something never tried before. A new endeavor so fresh, yet a tale as old as time.

A set for a feast

Mixed media (microcrystalline wax, hosepipe, wood sticks), 70cm x 70cm x 40cm

Presenting a khantoke made of wax complete with wax food served of wax banana leaves for a full wax North-eastern Thai wax experience.

Whether you live to eat or eat to live, you’re putting something in your mouth. Food plays a huge part of any culture’s identity and shapes how people interact with the world. My aim is to take you through the process of how this food is made. From the farm, to the cooking, to the serving, to the rotting, each piece represents a certain stage in the life cycle of your meals.

Moulded over

Acrylic paint on canvas with cotton balls, 40cm x 70cm

Everything ends somewhere even food and most food ends up being eaten, if not by people or animals then by mould. It only takes this food when you yourself aren’t making use of it. The mould does not soil or destroy this food it merely uses it for energy the same way we do.

Annie Peiru Wang

Concrete No. 2268

Foam, Concrete, Spray paint, Wooden Chip

This piece embodies the stark reality of urban life, metaphorically represented by a concrete-like sculpture. The harsh exterior symbolizes the cold and impenetrable nature of cities, leaving migrants and outsiders feeling isolated and rejected. Upon closer inspection, the foam beneath the surface unveils the city’s vulnerability and corruption. The sharp chips atop the sculpture signify houses and inhabitants, unaware of the eroding of their surroundings.

Interwoven

Pen, Pastel Pencil, Textured Paper, 42 x 59.4 cm

This artwork signifies the interplay and clash of cultures in migration. The patterned carpet, symbolizing culture, visually contrasts with the city bus. The dynamic flow of carpet pieces melds into the urban environment, representing the intricate integration of diverse cultural elements during the migration journey.

Lost in Lines

Photography, Photoshop, 42 x 59.4 cm

This piece intricately captures the emotional journey of an individual navigating the challenges of migration to an urban landscape. The overwhelming sensations of loss and congestion permeate the artwork, reflecting the complex interplay between personal experiences and the city’s structured environment. The meticulous orderliness of the urban surroundings, while efficient and well-organized, paradoxically deepens the feeling of disconnection and isolation.

Red Roofs

Photography, Embroidery on Paper, 30 x 42 cm

Mirror

Oil on Canvas

This piece portrays the protagonist’s childhood memory of a house with a red roof, nestled amidst vibrant forests and a serene lake showing reflections of the trees. Distorted and dreamlike, it reflects the protagonist’s idealized nostalgia for their hometown. It evokes feelings of homesickness and reminiscence.

This artwork captures a moment in the individual’s city migration, encountering a flower shop that sparks a vibrant burst of emotion in an otherwise black-and-white world. The intense red hues symbolize deep emotions and homesickness, visually represented by numerous red strings intricately stitched into the background, creating a powerful visual impact.

Transitory Calm Ink on Paper

This Chinese ink painting employs traditional techniques to evoke a sense of calm before migration’s storm. Tree branches and mountains guide the viewer’s eye to the Blackbird, symbolizing migration’s journey. Its gaze hints at uncertainty. Overwhelming lines and a crowded composition express the intensity of migration in monochrome.

Annie

Vanishing Spaces

Oil on canvas, Gold leaf, 100x 120 x 3 cm

Reflection

Photography, Photoshop, 73.3 x 219.9 cm

By photoshopping my photo taken in Japan, I removed the background, edited the color, and added the moons in another layer. This artwork shows sparrows on tree branches, symbolizing migration. Yet, their image feels distant to the viewer. A gold moon, a symbol of home, contrasts against the black-and-white scene, suggesting a desire to return. However, the mirrored moon and image hint at the complexity of the migration journey, showing the self-reflection experienced by the viewer.

In this artwork, my intention was to depict the moment when an individual gazes through the window of their village home and realizes that the once snug houses with red and orange roofs feels crowded and confining. The sense of belonging slips away, urging the person to leave. The artwork captures the essence of departure, the bittersweet acknowledgment that a once-comforting landscape has become a crowded place, prompting the individual’s journey toward the city.

Solitude in Noir

Fabric on Wood, Acrylic on Wood, 47 x 118 x 3 cm

This artwork captures the silhouette of a crane bird by the riverside, engraved on a black fabric against a textured wood board. The intention is twofold: to showcase the inherent beauty of nature and symbolize migration positively. Yet, the absence of vibrant colors reflects the viewer’s calm detachment. This lack of emotional connection conveys the individual’s pessimistic thoughts, as the tranquil scene fails to resonate with their personal journey.

Silver City.

Black ink on Stainless steel, Gold leaf, Foam, 30 x 60 cm

This piece captures the view of the bustling cityscape as the individual migrates. The skyscrapers, buildings, strangers, and cars appear cold and indifferent, operating in isolation. The modern building facades, shining like silver blades, evoke a sense of fear, emphasizing the viewer’s isolation and loneliness amid the impersonal urban chaos.

Cake Teratda Chunhasaenee

Before I was 7

Oil on Canvas, 60 x 80 cm

This piece explores my cultural identity and ethical evolution within the context of traditional Chinese culinary practices. The painting portrays a shark fin soup restaurant, a food which personally brings feelings of nostalgia and disconnection, particularly among my generation who struggle with the ethical implications of such traditions. As the practice becomes increasingly criticized, this painting portrays my memory, before I was seven, with this controversial dish, before it was forgotten.

Chinatown Nocturne

Acrylic on canvas, 100 x 120 cm

This piece presents a reinterpretation of a desolate gold shop in Bangkok’s Chinatown, transformed into a graphic tableau of flat, vivid colors, and black outlines. Inspired by Patrick Caulfield, this painting magnifies the feelings of emptiness of an abandoned place, to present a silent narrative. The absence of details and grand scale of space for contemplation, reminding the occasionally elusive traces of our culture and traditions.

Filial Piety

Etching Ink and Gold Leaf on Transfer Paper

Filial Piety is a personal piece where I reflect about my experience of the Chinese traditional family gatherings, exploring the complexity beyond the depicted joy. It reflects the obligatory nature of these reunions in my experience, where the fulfillment of duty dominates genuine connections. I explore the ritualistic aspects of cultural norms which prioritizes duty over relational depth, disclosing the hollow core of these cultural practices.

Lanna and Tai’s Flavor

Pastel Pencils and Graphite on paper, 32.5 x 32.5 cm each

This work comprises two drawings of a northern dish and southern dish, “Khao Soi” and “Kaeng Lueang Pla Gapohng”. As a homage to the complexity and distinctiveness of Thai cooking, the work focuses on the fundamental characteristics of Thai cuisine: combination of condiments, variety of flavors, and diverse textures. This piece also embodies the tranquility and joy I find in the act of cooking in the Thai kitchen, a serene yet spirited connection I feel to my cultural roots.

Modern Summit

Chinese Ink on paper, 37.5 x 55.8 cm

This piece is an evocative portrayal of traditional Chinese ink landscape painting with a symbol of contemporary life, a 7-11 store. The juxtaposition of ancient-styled mountains and a modern 7-11 store comments on the ways which convenience culture infiltrated our sense of identity. To me, 7-11 is the ultimate symbol of modern convenience, the presence of this shows the omnipresence of modernity in our cultural heritage.

Salty, Sweet, Sour, Spicy

Glazed Ceramic Clay and Fabric

This collection of two ceramic sculptures represents Thai sauce bottles, the vital ingredients for Thai cuisine. Made with glaze and fabric labels, the sculptures are a homage to the rich flavors which define Thai cuisine—salty, sweet, sour, and spicy. The piece represents the heart of the Thai kitchen, a sense of warmth and adventure as well as a tribute to the homey, flavor-infused atmosphere of Thai cooking.

Cake

Thailand: Land of Smiles

Digital Collage, 2000 x 2000 px

Thailand: Land of Smiles is a work which celebrates the quintessential elements which represents the welcoming spirit through its iconic symbols like temples, flowers, traditional patterns, street vendors, and more. It captures the warmth and hospitality of Thai culture, contributing to its reputation as a serene and favored destination for visitors around the world.

Traces of me

Acetone and Ink on paper, 38 x 56cm each

This piece captures the essence of Bangkok through the eyes of my youth. As I often visit Bangkok’s Chinatown, a place where the omnipresent essence of Chinese culture is intermingled with the Thai landscape. Each print showcases different overlaps of individual yet cohesive visuals which represents the formation of my identity. The use of different colored visuals distinctly separate cultures that coexist seamlessly, each maintaining individuality while contributing to a completed picture.

Welcome To My Playground

Fineliner on paper, 29.7 x 42 cm

Thai literary books are important treasures that allow me to rewind back to my childhood when learning about Thai literature. Usually featuring mythical characters with vibrant colors, expressive gestures, embellished clothes, and more, representative of Thai folklore. These iconic figures merge my memory with reality, celebrating the role these illustrations played in my development as an imaginative and creative person.

Dear Perada Watanadilokkul

Our Oath

Ribbon and ceramic clay, 25 x 25 x 18 cm

Clay sculptures are effective in creating imitations of real life objects and people. Inspired by Japanese legends of the invisible thread of fate, the two hands both are doing a pinky promise hand sign, where both pinkies are tied up with a bright red ribbon. The ribbon links an individual with a significant other who is meant to become their destined lover. However, unlike the original legend, ribbons are pretty decorations that are meant to be cut, thus foreshadowing their upcoming tragedy.

To Whom Shall I Tell My Grief?

Mixed media: Charcoal and oil pastel on canvas, 144 x 86 cm

Inspired by the short story, "Misery" by Anton Chekhov, this piece replicates the sensation of grief through both blurry and thick strokes of the charcoal along with the rough texture of the unprimed canvas, thus evoking raw emotions of loss and despair. The monochromatic black compared to the bright blue hue of both the horse and man creates a clear contrast between the two, evoking a lacking sense of belonging. The sunflowers are left outside to be covered in winter snow, struggling to grow.

To See Through your Eyes

Oil on canvas, 50 x 60 cm

Like two halves of a whole, one would often seek to understand and learn more about their significant other. I conveyed such desire by emphasizing the eyes of the two characters. The man on the upper portion of the painting has a medical eyepatch, signifying his need for a significant other to fill his empty half. However, the newspaper continues to cover the woman’s left eye, signifying the lingering sensation of ambiguity within her true feelings towards the man.

I Love You

Mixed media: Charcoal, pencil, correction liquid, water color, pins on paper and cork, 120 x 48 cm

Everyone has their own unique way of expressing affection. However some individuals are bound to turn such love into obsession. I wanted to portray the concept of obsession through a pinboard that would overwhelm the audience with emotion. I used different tools and techniques to draw the same woman upon various surfaces, which are then pinned upon a ripped cork sheet. Crumpled pieces of paper star cut-outs are also pinned onto the piece, signifying his continuous hold upon his childish hope.

Seaside Étranger

Digital piece, 2550 x 3300 px

French for stranger, this piece reflects upon the ambiguity within society. We are bound to encounter new people, exposing ourselves to new experiences, interests and other events. Like the tide of the sapphire blue sea, these strangers may bring gentle waves of enjoyment, while the latter may bring harsher waves of pain and tragedy. The blurry effect on the woman evokes a sense of uncertainty, like an encounter with the unknown that is to be discovered.

And You Became the Moon

Digital piece, 29.7 x 40 cm

No matter what or how it happens, everything eventually will come to an end. In this artwork, the man is now surrounded by darkness as he holds onto the moon. As sunflowers always face the sun, the positive aspects of life, they would close up during the night. This signifies the end of the couples’ relationship. However, the man holds onto the moon, desperate to cling onto their significant other.

2 Dance as 1

Soft pastel and acrylic on paper, 84 x 118.8 cm

Black and white, good and evil, love and hatred. Despite being polar opposites, the two are essentially two sides of the same coin. One cannot exist without the other. I was inspired by Swan Lake, specifically the black and white swan dancers. Just as joy can be the result of love, pain is not any different. The two are different yet the same, rooting from the same source, hence why people are often prone to swiftly shifting between the two, like a graceful performance between two dancers.

Global Delicacy

Acrylic on paper, 59.4 x 42 cm

Inspired by the works of Kawanabe Kyōsai, Alexandre-Gabriel Decamps and Giuseppe Arcimboldo’s unique use of humor, this piece evokes satire through mocking the way humanity treats the world. The ice cream is coloured in a mixture of blue, green and white, hence symbolizing the Earth, while the person is a symbol for the human race. The piece personifies how we are using the Earth’s resources for our own satisfaction, like how a person licks a melting ice cream cone to consume it.

99 Sunflowers

Oil on canvas, 60 x 80 cm

I Wish Upon the Stars

Tape, plastic wrap, eyepatch, paper, and IV stand, 50 x 30 x 150 cm

This piece emphasizes the childish desire for happiness. The tape and eyepatch signifies the character’s poor mental and physical state. However, his heart still luminates throughout his body, expressing his fiery passion. As most people would hear a childish belief of wishing upon a shooting star, hope is used as medicine for the character to fight through life, waiting for the day he finds someone who would fill his missing half.

Love and human relationships play an important role in the cycle of life. I conveyed the concept of being in a relationship through sunflowers. Often known as a symbol of a long life and happiness, the sunflower seeds signify the growth of one’s love and connection towards their significant other by a hundredfold, thus the name 99 sunflowers. Whether or not the 99 seeds successfully bloom into beautiful flowers or are left to wither is all dependent upon the way the two lovers treat each other.

Show’s End

Doll, textile, wire and acrylic on cardboard, 44.5 x 56 x 35.5 cm

As such feelings of grief and sorrow continue to linger, what happens after? What do others think of such occasions? To us, even the smallest decisions could turn into experiences that greatly shape who we are. However, to others, our experiences may be seen as nothing but a simple performance, a show where we are the puppets that are meant to humor and entertain them with our stories.

fant fant

Napathorn Thongthungwong

Separation and Joining

Charcoal on tracing paper, thread, 30 x 21 cm

When cleaning my oil paint supplies, I have noticed an interesting effect that takes place between water and white spirit. Its movements mimic the dynamic relationship of joining and separating – similar to interactions with people. People once interacted with, collected parts of each other, and left inseparable marks on all involved. Capturing this action into sheets of tracing paper as an installation loosely tied by strings to allow movement, we find a piece of others in us, and vice versa.

Tokyo

Adobe Photoshop, 50 x 70 cm

Observing cities, I realized the essential interaction between organic and geometric textures. Studying such using clay tiles, I have transformed its light and shadows through Photoshop to interpret the subject of Tokyo. From the perspective of an individual in the city, the unending movement that envelops one’s sight can cause multiple memories and events to merge into one as they ‘liquefy.’

The constant influx and efflux of people mirrors the dynamic composition of this piece.

No Longer Human

Pencil on paper, 32 x 40 x 1 cm

Inspired by Osamu Dazai’s novel of the same name, I explored alienation and isolation through a mutated representation of the mind detached from reality; belonging nowhere. Standing on the unstable tower, the creature finds no attachment to anyone and anywhere – only hidden away in the darkness of the ocean floor. The use of nature follows the Pre-Raphaelite attention to detail to form a common ground between humans in hopes of gaining understanding – though desperately let down by lack of such.

Landscape

Ceramic relief tile, 17 x 26 x 1.5 cm

As a distorted natural landscape of textured clay and uneven glazing, this piece studies a photograph originally taken of a tree. The work takes on a three-dimensional investigation extending from No Longer Human into the mutation of organic forms. Likewise examining the isolated experience, the piece’s irregularity still reveals this experience’s frequent and common occurrence and the interconnectedness of the many individuals who encounter such loneliness even when together.

Sanctuary

Cyanotype on paper, fabric, 40 x 50 cm

Growing up as the eldest sister, I have always been taught to share with my siblings. Thus, I treasure everything I can fully own – one of which is my room, my sanctuary. Using cyanotype, shadows of objects I have collected over the years are transferred onto sheets of paper, and sewn onto the fabric of my childhood. Still, with only a monochromatic palette, the complete view of my space presented is forever limited – the sense of belonging and security is only mine to experience.

fant fant

Control Panel

Ceramic relief tiles, 50 x 20 cm

Factory Plan

Color pencil on paper, threads, 30 x 21 cm

Tangled between the pipes and wires – the complicated system of thoughts and ties is formed within industrial units. Using the factory as a metaphor for my family’s operation, as our family business, it is evident that navigating and finding belonging to this system could not be done instantly. It is rather with the expertise and gradual understanding of interactions that could lead one to eventually find such security in the environment.

The control panel is central to the operation of a factory. Similar to it are the calculated actions and strict expectations within my family. Using clay – a medium that is more flexible and, hence, more difficult to meet the geometric precision demanded. The presentation of such a device could only be imperfect, as I feel the restraint and my struggle to become what is expected of me in this familial context.

Fusion

Color pencil, charcoal, soft pastel on paper, oil on canvas, 75 x 32 cm

Between the uncertainty of the soft pastel dust and the defined pencil lines, the piece is divided into two sides inspired by Chatchai Saitong’s Kurukshetra War scene. Containing elements of all other works in the exhibition – both in medium and in the subject, this piece presents the internal conflict between the struggle to find a balance between being alone and being together through time. The piece functions as a reconciliation – an eventual solution for this troubling duality to coexist.

Fragments of Time

Polaroid film, tracing paper, lights

Polaroid photography is a medium often used to capture important memories. Transforming these films into transparencies – leaving only hazy, scratched images of what is left of the time, the appearance reflects what is left of such events. Reminding myself of the times when I feel complete simply with the bonds tying my parents, my siblings, and I, this piece captures a simpler time in my life, however, crucial to my development as a person.

Soi 14

Oil on foam sheet, canvas, acrylic on cardboard, wood, air-dried clay, 80 x 60 x 20 cm

My street is “Soi 14” – “Soi” being the Thai word for “street”. However, it also holds another meaning: “fragments”. Thus, I have pieced together parts of my childhood experience of walking through the streets, wondering what lies beyond individual gates, particularly my grandfather’s factory. I explored different perspectives, combined with a TuDiGong shrine that protects those in its area. The combination of oil painting and 3D parts tease this play between hidden and visible.

Jajaa Phavida Momtairat

Maternity

My exhibition is under the theme of “civil rights’ ‘. Experience and exploration of myself and others demanding “the rights”. Consisting of multiple techniques used before completely creating the exhibition pieces. For instance my primary works are painting however, I also explore the technique of scratching and printing. Compared to the black pen line or drawing, scratching and printing outcome artwork is similar to pen drawing outcome. The artist that I want to explore three dimensional technique is Michelangelo, an Italian renaissance artist. Challenging myself to create three dimensional artwork that I barely explored and created. In order to invite the audience to physically navigate my artworks, I want to engage with a variety of artworks such as 2D drawing, printing, scratching, and painting with three dimensions of air-dry clay and the final artwork that I did in the exhibition is Maternity Leave.

The theme of the exhibition was inspired by the realities of society, and the complexity of people. In my hometown, Thailand is well known for the highest inequality rate and infiltration in every system including education, work place, and justice system. I was born in a privileged family, and never have a direct experience of poverty but I have good parenting from my family, especially true empathy. Moreover, I also associate with different society classes and this creates my perception to change society norms of ignorance. This connection informs me to guide in my idea to create each piece. My exploration of civil rights through art is both a reflection of my personal journey and a commentary on the broader societal quest for justice and equality.

My artworks invite viewers to reflect on their own experiences and perceptions of civil rights, encouraging people to choose change. Through my artworks, I not only recount the history of civil rights struggles but also contribute to the ongoing dialogue, invite the society to envision and work towards a future where justice and equality are not just ideals, but realities for all. My intention is to tell the viewer to appreciate what they have and use their power to change the system of inequality.

Thai Tea

Nostalgia

To convey this message, I arrange one of my artwork in circle canvas, it actually can position in any side depending on the viewer which the artwork portray LGBTQ+ rights. In other words, viewers have different perspectives, and this artwork will not force them to only take a side, but instead the artwork will provide some curious perception between the artwork and viewer perception. The first artwork is created by Charcoal and EE pencil drawing on paper, using the simple drawing technique to represent the portrait of women who work in the red light district in Thailand. Blending of white oil pastel color, and using the blender and tissue paper to blend colors between each different tone in order to make the line looks more smooth. Next artwork is the happiest meal and happiest moment. The rectangle of acrylic painting and criticizing realities of poverty through the brush of acrylic on canvas. I made the artwork from the perspective that children should have a right to be in the education system. However, Thailand has a high range of inequality. Those who have privilege can afford better education but those who don’t have enough privilege can not even think of escaping from poverty because “food and education is not free”. It challenges viewers to discern the difference between genuine joy and the survival smiles of those dreaming for change, urging a deeper understanding and action against the romanticization of poverty.

The Happiest Moment

Ming Pavitra Limpoon

Collage, Paper Folding, 6 x 8.5 cm, 4 x 9 cm, 3.5 x 11.5 cm

It can be seen that each vase has different heights, these heights symbolize the order of each sister, youngest, middle, and oldest. This work displays the blooming of the relationship between sisterhood. The flowers are made from a collage of the flowers that I painted in the “Sisterhood” painting and were spray-painted with a copper color to make the work look old and rusty representing the time that passes by.

Time Flies

Charcoal Drawing on burlap material

This piece displays a portrait of me and my sisters. I chose to use this technique because of how the strokes look. The stroke and the shading make the portrait look old, like it has been drawn a long time ago. This created a concept of how fast time flies. Even though I just drew this, it already looks old. Thai alphabets were added to the background in our favorite colors when we were kids, such as pink, blue, green, and yellow to symbolize our Thai culture and to also make the drawing look less serious because the colors are bright and vibrant. The colors also symbolize the sense of positive energy as we were still kids in this artwork.

Us Three

Oil Paint, 80 x 100 cm

When we were little, we had no idea how much we’d need each other when we were all grown up. I believe that there is nothing more heartwarming than having sisters. The bond we have is truly unbreakable and nothing will ever separate us apart. We watch each other grow up as independent individuals, we watch each other discover things that they’re truly good at and passionate about. They’re the people I can talk to about anything. It is easy to say that we three are bonded for life.

The Toy Collection

Oil painting, 30 x 40 cm

These 3 pieces display the stages of what toys meant to us. The first toy is usually the toy that we are attached to the most, it is something that feels like a comfort to us. The second one works as a toy that helps with your growing development. And lastly, the one that we don’t play with, but rather keep as collectibles.

Ming L.

So Similar, Yet So Different

Charcoal Drawing, 29.7 x 42 cm

This is an observational drawing of my and my sisters’ clothes. This drawing shows how different we all are from all of the 3 different styles of clothes we wear even though we are all different in our little ways, and to also appreciate the little details in life.

พ่อ (Por)

Charcoal Drawing, 21 x 29.7 cm

This piece was created to embrace and appreciate the presence of my father. Specifically last year, my father has been providing me extra protection and comfort due to some situations. The reason why I chose this picture is because of his posture which creates a sense of security and strength.

Blossoming Digital Collage

This piece was inspired by an artist called Marcelo Monreal who has a style of including flowers in his works and separating human features into small pieces. This artwork was made by using the same flower that I painted in the “Sisterhood” painting and I did a collage with them. It can be seen that one side of the eye is different from the other. This is because it is the eye of my sister who has a similar eye as me. This shows that even though we are different individuals, we still share the same features.

Sisterhood

Mix Technique, Lino Printing, Acrylic paint, 50 x 70 cm

The painting consists of a portrait of my sister and me, an apricot tree that contains flowers, fruits, and bees. All of these components are connected. The apricot flowers and the bees depend on each other. For the flower to bloom and produce the apricot fruits, bees are needed to carry pollen and pollinate the flowers, and the flowers will eventually become fruits. This symbolizes my sister and I, how we needed each other to grow up, and how strong our bond is.

Pearl Punnapa Sivakom

(Once Upon A Time)

Oil paint, Acrylic, Marker on canvas, 42cm x 59.4cm

What The Future Holds For U

Oil paint, mirror, water base marker, 70cm x 70cm

In recent years, card reading has gained popularity among Thai teenagers. Many turn to card readings to predict aspects of their future, such as love life, career path, and even whether their ex still thinks about them. As a teenager navigating this trend, every time I pick a card, it feels like the cards hold the reins to my future. The revelations, whether positive or negative, evoke a sense of inevitability, creating an anxious feeling that my destiny is predetermined with no way out.

” directly translates to Legend of Tha Tien, a story written about the giant of Wat Pho and the giant of Wat Chaeng, two of the most popular temples in Bangkok that is located opposite of each other. The legend is used to explain the bare areas around Chao Phraya River Tha Tien known as the pier and commercial area near the two temples. The stories remind me of many teenagers who struggle with cultural identity due to being a part of both Thai and Chinese traditions.

Bring It Up To Heaven

Cardboard, Balsa wood, Prints

Growing up in a Thai-Chinese household, one of the most fascinating concepts for me lies in the funeral ceremony. Gongtek, the traditional Chinese way to make merit for our ancestors, in which we as the successors must burn paper made into various shapes, including house, servant, and clothes, hoping that those items will be sent to heaven for our ancestors to use. Intrigued by the concept, I created my version of the ceremony, contemplating the question: if I were to pass away, what would I want to bring to heaven?

The Celebration Calendar Mix Technique, Lino Printing, Fineline on Yellow paper, 14.8 x 21 cm each

I have always found the layout of the Chinese calendar very interesting and eye-catching. Coming from a Thai-Chinese background, I often struggle to remember important Chinese ceremony dates of each month. To address this, I had the idea of creating a set of mini calendars that highlight all the crucial dates within the Lunar Year, making it simpler to keep track. Each calendar features drawings in the center that represent a significant object related to the celebration of that day and month.

Pearl

Imperfection Face = Horrible Life

Charcoal, Red markers, Paper, 59.5cm x 84.1cm

The term “โหงวเฮ้ง,” or ‘Lucky face’ in traditional Chinese face reading, signifies certain facial features believed to bring good fortune and prosperity. Within the Chinese community, there’s a holistic belief that one’s face can influence their luck. Consequently, when someone lacks ‘lucky face’ features, some may opt for plastic surgery to transform misfortune into good fortune. I aim to portray the concept of physiognomy through red marks that assess the significance of facial features.

Tan Korndanai Asadathorn

Sorry, Mom!

Oil Paint, Etching on Acrylic Dining Table Dividers, Drawing Paper, 3 of 55 x 55 cm

These patterned plates reflect my multicultural identity, which is drawn from my full Chinese heritage, living in Thailand, and studying at an international school. The slightly shattered plates yield two interpretations; their accidental breakage; and memories that can become broken and rearranged. I recall all of the instances where these metaphorical plates were broken and the resulting scolding I received.

Are We There Yet?

Glazed Ceramics, Artificial Flowers

This glazed ceramic piece alludes to a mug I was gifted as a child, which featured a caricatured image of me. The title references a phrase “Are we there yet?” that I would bombard my parents every 2 minutes on our car rides and yielded nothing but annoyance. The transition from an “annoying” childhood persona to young adulthood is marked by the enlarged size, which symbolizes growth. The overflowing vines seeping out of the mug denote the lingering emotions that continue into adulthood.

The Glue-gun Incident

Oil & Acrylic Paint on Canvas, White Gouache, 60 x 80 cm

The piece recreates an image of the time I burnt myself with a glue gun (despite its small size), that was sent to my parents. At the time, I was enrolled in an art course in the US, miles away from my family, yet I stayed connected with them via images and text that provided glimpses into my life. A bittersweet ambient emerges, underscored by the chair sketches in the background, reflecting my enjoyment in its creation. Later, I would materialize the sketches into one scaled cardboard chair.

Magically Tragic

Oil-based Etching Ink Monoprint on Poster of Self-Made Digital Print, White Gouache, 88 x 44 cm

In the aforementioned Art course, I had sketched a unique chair design, before digitally rendering and then building it with cardboard. I was unable to take the chair back from the US to Thailand, and so this piece, utilizing that very design post, is a means of capturing that nostalgia. The title “Magically Tragic” speaks of my pining for that physical object, but I am glad it can live on in this exhibition artwork.

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GreenBears Co., Ltd.

Oil & Acrylic Paint, Papier-mâché of Printed Powerpoint Presentation on Canvas, 100 x 120 cm

The piece, titled after my team’s name, reminisces about a business pitching competition I joined with my friends. It references Jean-Michel Basquiat’s playful and childlike qualities to reflect my childhood memories. The quality, not conforming to the art traditions, parallels our team’s novel business proposal that did not conform to traditional business prototypes: it revolved around implementing CBD as a sleeping aid.

Acrylic on Canvas with Macrame Cotton Yarn, 70 x 70 cm

This artwork, depicting a buoy at sea, symbolizes my childhood curiosity and subsequent growth in knowledge. My curiosity about this object’s buoyancy began an intellectual journey; one that ignited my interest in Physics. In retrospect, I’m equipped with the understanding and the formula to find the “force” to explain such an answer—as referenced in the title. The diagonal orientation of the painting itself, an unconventional presentation method, further reflects such ongoing curiosity.

Tan

Season II

Acrylic Gelli Printing on Cartridge Paper backed on Wooden Blocks, 16 of 15 x 21.5 cm

This collection reflects moments of my final years of high school. The gradual degradation of wooden blocks over time mirrors the fading nature of memories. Some artworks reveal the natural wood beneath, while others feature monotone or duotone compositions, symbolizing the varied hues of recollection. Through gelli printing on these wooden plates, I encapsulate the transient essence of memory, inviting viewers to ponder the fleeting yet enduring nature of their life experiences.

อร่อยทุกอย่าง

(Everything is delicious)

Oil & Acrylic Paint, Papier-mâché of Printed Powerpoint Presentation on Canvas, 100 x 120 cm

The piece features my neighborhood diner, which includes my grandparents. As my grandfather grew older, he could walk for a shorter distance. This piece encapsulates the last time that we walked over to the diner. Despite all the old age inconveniences and the relatively hard walk, conversations with him would always end with his comment

. The composition presents my literal point of view, and I hope it lends authenticity and sincerity

เจ็ดสิบแปด (Seventy-Eight)

Oil & Acrylic Paint, Papier-mâché of Printed Powerpoint Pastel Pencil on Tinted Paper, 50 x 65 cm

This pastel drawing commemorates my grandmother’s 78th birthday, capturing the essence of our latest gathering with the extended family. The reunion uplifted my spirits amidst the challenges of my final high school years. Deliberately, specific details are omitted to replicate the gaps in memory, while significant elements, such as the birthday cake and my grandmother’s expression, are meticulously preserved. Through this intentional omission and focus, I evoke the selective nature of memory.

Khatthaliya (Dou dou) Watthanaphuthikamjorn

Natrin (Pai) Chiravanich

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

Falling in love on the first look just like in all the books is a story that you’ll hear across songs and poems. You would probably never hear falling in love with the first book on your first look in the bookstore, as wise adults will not choose only for its cover while its charm is hidden far off. I have picked up a book with a plain white jacket to bring her to a glaring green dance floor. For a particular reason this afternoon, We are listening to Harry Styles whose voice can sweeten our daydreams like a strawberry on a summer evening. Holding tight, never wanting to let go, feeling the glistening toasts of light radiating on my skin, breezes of air flows through my hair, gleaming light glows in front of me while the booming bass beats my heart. The warm wavy surface lifts me up, floating in the Excelsis, flowing in the soul of Sun. Yes, there is all this happiness, bright before sunset, grasping to stay in this forever moment, especially now when I spot a guitar that lies on the floor like crying wood. I levitate over, gravitating towards my hands. So I grab a pick from my wa llet and start strumming the guitar with all my living spirit, while in my hands I lift my head up from the darkness. A sharp light strikes my small pupil abandoned in my own deserted mind.

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Ms. Melina Curmi

Today, sol is kind of a hell for Sihkamian. Although Sihkamians’ skins are covered with some kind of protective layer of slime, the warmth of the sol could still penetrate the skin and leave Sihkamians dehydrated. But as long as Sihkamians are packed with a dozen ionpure liquid, it will be fine. At least for today.

Yesterday, Sihkamians got enough acid water falls from the sky to make 365 drops of ionpure liquid. 366 if Sihkamians are lucky. Earth has been so kind nonetheless.

It is common for Sihkamians making lists for tomorrow. As those three times would be taken away. Sihkamians called it uncertainty as it comes with the circumstances. Sihkamians always prepared because circumstances arrived unexpectedly. Circumstances mean no harm, it is just want to teach.

Denting looks so weary as its smile fades. It looks to its left only to find a sixteen legged phoenix crab appearing slowly from the green sand. The wind breeze makes its eyes tired. The sound of the red ocean is its white noise.

“What’s on its mind?” said Gnitned while picking up the sixteen legged phoenix crab and putting it on its lap as it’s trying to run.

“Would it like to know?” Denting petting the sixteen legged phoenix crab.

“Have it ever not wanted to?”

“Could it be mistaken today?”

“Mistaken why?”

The sixteen legged phoenix crab jumped from Gnitned’s lap back to the green sand. Today’s discussion is about resources available. Being in Sihkami may feel like isolation. But during Slumber Time, it is where all Sihkamians rest and unwind its brains.

Tomorrow arrives. Sihkami is to be a place untouched by time. Today, its lush, tropical forests were home to species of flora and fauna found nowhere else on Earth, marking the border between the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Gigantic, ancient trees covered in mycelium loomed overhead, its branches intertwined to form a natural canopy that obscured the sky. Vibrant, bioluminescent flowers carpeted the forest floor, casting an enchanting glow in Slumber Time.

Slumber Time has its owner, solei. Sol always lets solei take care of Sihkami in Slumber Time as sol knows that tomorrow would not come if solei is not around.

“Will it be fine tomorrow?” Gnitned caress Denting’s top surface with its upper limbs.

“Who knows?” Denting smiles.

“How about the circumstances?” Gnitned standing up as Sihkamians always prepared as circumstances arrived unexpectedly.

“Could it wait for tomorrow and let it?” Denting reaches out to Gnitned’s upper limb and holds it tight.

Gnitned exhale its surface when sitting down next to Denting, staring at the sky lightened by solei. Gnitned observing Denting’s surface and thought how Denting aged gracefully for today’s old.

Gnitned never thought to be so lucky just to be around today, from sol to Slumber Time in Sihkami.

Sihkamians’ discussions will always continue yesterday, today, and tomorrow as long as Sihkami is still around.

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

Mr. Patrick Devlin

I imagined the atmosphere would be sizzling, the red burst of flames, not this quiet serenity, the blood red wind calms before an earthquake.

We all imagined a boiling slave camp, but no one mentioned the reflections! Our past deeds haunt us, dark shadows, stomping behind, ready to devour us.

I knew I could not always be perfect with a Barbie model making model mistakes, and I knew I would not live forever, Running away from the manufactured media fears.

I had heard about the journey to the other side and the beep on the last heartbeat as my clock struck to a stop, but how could anyone have guessed

that as soon as we arrived we were asked to describe our lives and to include all the pulp in the fruit–not just the juice, Helen Hades insists, rather the soul-shredding sinful scenes, not simply the heavenly, but the forged, merits, simply for show — as we swim against the currents, the woman leading in front keeps telling us— think of it more as a cycle, she groans, think of dying as a process, a forever, reiterating trial, and now the pain has started, watch me against myself, eyes locked on the mirror, as I decided, to take my last breath.

Patchara (Yumi) Jatupornpukdi (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

In the Arms of Midnight Reverie

Yannakrit (Keet) Foong

(English 10, Mr. Maurice)

In the silent chambers of the night, She lies in wait with her two arms wide, In her embrace worries wither away, A sanctuary, a refuge, from life’s thunderous storm— In the softness, all qualms, doubts, perturbations languish away, In a symphony of quiet, Overwhelming in volume In whispers of lullaby, She nurses to slumber, Her soft subtle features, Contours accentuated by linen, In repose one seeks, where one goes to escape the sun kissed sky, To journey—into the ink black hours of eve, In the quilt’s comforting tender embrace, Where dreams take wing, Soaring into the night.

Piramon (Nampetch) Derojanawong (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Khatthaliya (Dou dou)

Watthanaphuthikamjorn

Joseph Savage (English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

Burger king

What I might say here folks might not agree with, but I truly believe what I say: Burger king’s only good food option is their hash browns and their chicken tenders. Unfortunately it is true people might disagree, but nothing will change my mind; That Burger king doesn’t have very good burgers. I don’t order anything else off of the Burger king menu, I only order the same thing over and over. That’s why, as of late, I feel that my perspective is very limited, maybe Burger king’s burgers aren’t the problem, maybe my picky palate might be the problem.

Come to think of it, in all the advertisements the whopper looks quite appealing, maybe I should give it a try next time I’m at a burger king I might just order a burger. But then again,

Those hash browns and chicken tenders just hit the spot. mmmh

The Yellows

Many people believe A supposed sad truth, A truth that I believe is false, The supposed truth that no one takes an immediate interest in: the pain of others.

Many believe that only when people are convinced or coaxed

By music or media, Only then do people think people will care

About your pain and grief. Maybe I think how I think Because of my foolish youth, Like a budding seed unaware of the hungry herbivores above,

Or maybe it is my environment, my friends, and my family. But for the brief time I’ve spent on this planet:

Almost every person I’ve met was willing to lend a helping hand,

Almost every person is willing to forgive, And almost every person was, at the very least, empathetic.

I feel that people think this way about about the world

Because they feel as if the world is all schadenfreude. They all have the self centered idea that everybody wants them, in particular, to suffer

Whereas from where I stand, the people who are close to you - want to see you succeed.

Like I stated before, this might be my budding youth, Ignorant of the coming storm.

Even if that is the case

For now I’ll remain in blissful ignorance.

Nathakorn (BJ) Puengchanchaikul (Visual Art 9, Mr. Patrick)

Aina

(English 6, Mr. Ben)

All alone in distress

Roaming the streets hopelessly

Wailing in despair

As footsteps approach

Hope glimmers within the soul

Will my dream come true?

Hope begins to surge

Dreams and ambitions emerge

Butterflies flutter

Gladly accepted

Healing touch brings immense joy

Dreams are realized

Ms. Abby Maely De La Cruz

Smita (Minnie) Deeritdecha (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

Strawberries Akawich (Sheen) Wangsiriwech

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

A single bite into its cold, wet flesh Its alluring rosy, yet aromatic skin I wonder, will this be enough?

I recall the soothing texture, An involuntary shudder runs through my body, I wonder, once more, if she would like it.

The bitter winter wind whips the snow And hail into my face, Once more, I give an involuntary shiver.

It is cold, freezing, numbing pain

But as I grip my hands on the heart-shaped package, I know that it is worth my every breath.

Sweet delicacies from the heart of Japan! I delightfully exclaim “I hope she will like it, my sweet, my love.”

I recall the honeyed taste, The rush of excitement, the rush of flavor A token of my heart…

The snow no longer mocks my feet, as I reach my destination,

A small crooked cabin, crammed within a dead forest But no longer do the green leaves glow, as the fury of winter approaches.

I reach the door, and my heart leaps, I start to shiver once more, my breath rattles,

How much have I yearned for this moment! How much have I pined for this second!

I hold my scarlet present, my hands shake uncontrollably.

I hold my keys, their jingling ringing in the dark. I hold my breath and enter my home

And there she is, as beautiful as ever, as majestic as one could be I present my gift, and she bounds towards me. The rhythmic pumping of my heart skips a beat.

I simply cannot bear her bountiful beauty

Her face, alight with delight, a wide grin spread across her muzzle.

Soon enough, I am engulfed in our world of fur, How I missed you, my love, my life… my golden retriever.

Mr. Patrick Devlin

孝顺父母的小明

黄雅婷 Ravisara (Veeya) Kultawaiporn

(Chinese 6, Ms. Shanshan)

很久以前，有一个小孩子叫小明。她跟她 的父母住在泰国的一个农村。小明父母的工作是 种田。他们每天辛苦地种田，让小明有好的生活。 小明从小活泼好动，不仅努力学习，还孝顺父母， 每一个人都喜欢小明。

有一天，小明走去看父母。他轻轻地打开 了门。突然，他看到父母生病了，他们的脸红红的 像火一样。小明心里想：一定是父母每天很辛苦 地种田，累病了。想到父母生病了只能躺在床上， 小明眼泪忍不住流了下来。所以小明心想：我要 代替父母去种田，这样父母可以在家养病。然后 小明轻轻地关了门。

Mr. Patrick Devlin

小明拿了种田的东西后就去种田了。不 管冷还是热，饿还是困，孤独还是害怕，小明每天 都认真地种田，然后赶快回家，先做饭，再扶着父 母去吃饭，吃饭后又扶着父母去床上，然后就把 毛巾放进水里，再轻轻地擦上父母的皮肤。

终于有一天小明回到家的时候，看到父 母在椅子坐，脸不红了，小明很开心地笑了起来。

父母就说：“谢谢你照顾我们。”小明快乐地回 答：“没关系，我爱你们。”

所以每一个人要孝顺父母，爱父母。小明 是一个孝顺父母的人。每一个人想要像小明一样 孝顺父母，爱父母，这样你就会越来越幸福。

Mr. Patrick Devlin

Phutiluck (Pud) Lertsakuncharoen

Thanin (Mega) Tantasatien (Visual Arts 10, Mr Patrick

Sarinda (Praew) Lertkangwarnklai (Visual Arts 10, Mr Patrick

Chawonvid (Ta) Suntivong (Visual Arts 11, Mr Patrick

Phutiluck (Pud) Lertsakuncharoen

On Turning Teen

Nhorrapat (Ice) Ninpluek

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

Walking past the hallway of the younger years, gives me the feeling of being stricken down by something, a feeling worse than skinning my knees while playing in the playground, an acute stinging of my consciousness, an agonizing soreness of the temple, an aching of the mind.

Like a punctured bicycle tire left behind your house, deserted — naive thrills from yesterday were bid farewell. At six my dreams were made of strawberry lemonade, By eight all four corners of my heart overflowed with coziness, At ten I was unconventionally impassioned, At twelve I was delightfully feverish.

But now I sit at this table for one, I think about teenagers and trepidation, and neither one appeals to me at all, as the cup of strawberry lemonade became bitter, oh it used to be so, so sweet.

“I can’t grasp these dreams anymore,” were the woebegone words I whispered to myself, as I resentfully arrived at the first big juncture of my younger life.

I am infatuated with boyhood, an affection stronger than Oscar Wilde’s love for youthful lads, it seemed that just a moment ago, my life was such a heavenly one, as soothing and pleasant as fresh, soapy water.

But now I live a dying dream, I wake up. I reminisce.

Chawonvid (Ta) Suntivong (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

The Price Tag

Chatawee (Grey) Nanvimolchai (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

(Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

Jidapat (Pei Pei) Siddhirujirot

(English 10, Mr. Maurice)

An array of stores lined up, spotlights beaming onto the grim street side

Standing, staring, scrutinizing that one chaotic shop

An antfarm full of people, no seriously - the whole world

Picking on their favorite items, crossing off their wishlists

That big black hole in the center of the parlor

Dashing, dancing, dazzling like rudolph’s large red nose

The price tags’ sinister smile, puppy eyes

Sucking people in

Wishlists torn, dreams diminished

Diving into so called “wonderland” through the rabbit hole

Some were born lucky while others? Not so much

Clawing, clamouring, clutching to find a way out

Grasping and heaping, glad to have survived

Discounts are not the real deal, but those are He said. Name plate gleaming gold, glistening. Not a dime nor a penny had to be loss

A priceless price tag - overlooked

The flickering flames of a candle Like a compass guiding the way Like a quilt’s warm embrace

Carefully sewn, neatly hung

Embroidered on the sweater “Ohana”

Off the coast of Alaska, hatchlings, tucked away in the sand–already thirteen lost to the savages of nature–and yet they make their first step after two months./

To everyone else, a small gap, no more than a NYC crosswalk, but to them, like Salva crossing the Nile, like an Olympic level dash./ They dart from their nests, One hundred fifty one, One hundred forty one, One hundred thirty one,/

One after another they fall, seabirds grasping as many as they can to feast on, the first glimpse of this cold world we live in, their lives, like eraser dust./

Ninety five make the waves, but the savages of nature extend to the water. Forty now enter the wild, wandering around God’s green earth, rather blue,/

Sea Turtles

Kittitara (K) Vongjarukorn

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

Concordian uniform blue, hiding away the tears for the fallen, their lives, eraser dust.

As we ride the waves, the remaining few adventure off. /

Sea turtles live for almost a century, well… some do, not all, but some.

The nine that make it, live their lives, blooming like a single sunflower,/ amongst hundreds, three of them, they make it. Their whole lives, like crossing the drake passage, eventually, the candle burns out.

One, just one./

Like every day that goes by, the clock aligns back at 12, and the child continues to chase that dream.

Mr. Patrick Devlin

Those Beasts!

Caroline (Cal) Tan

(English 10, Mr. Maurice)

In a cottage in the woods lived a daughter. She danced and sang. A treasure. Her future was like dry yeast. But she did not know about the beast.

Unruffled, I entered a labyrinth.

“You shall succeed”

Thousands of unspoken promises. The round table was filled with towering beasts. Announcing their demands for my future. A crown.

Three hundred karat gold./ And yes. I did what they said. I ran. And ran. And ran.

There was a cliff. An ocean. A mountain. The weight of the sky crushed my bear shoulders. But I was Atlas. Condemned to hold for eternity. I did not whine or wither.

Kantapat (Jerry) Puttakotirat (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

And yes. I had a flute. But I never sang. And at last

I made it.

Satisfaction is written in their eyes. My future so bloody bright. Yet, there I am Stun in the Beasts’ Den

Missing my cottage in the woods.

On The Streets

Dol Decharin

(English 6, Mr. Ben)

On the busy streets with lots of people resides many of those in poverty the food they can get is very little and there is close to zero liberty

The people on the streets are like statues to the ignorant people walking by only if they see what they go through they would know of the things they could help buy

The streets were lonely with no hope at all as a man who resides there gets older as the old man sits on a plain, old wall and winter comes as there is cold weather

On a forlorn fateful day in winter his life departed, there are no ey-ers

Proud (Visual Arts 9, Mr Patrick)

Opal Ruangthammakit (Visual Arts 11, Mr Patrick)

Narinthira (Bow) Lertariyanunt

(English 10, Mr. Maurice)

In the garden filled with flowers, where roses blossom, Each petal hides a tale, a silent bosom

The looks of roses may seem delicate and sweet, Yet, every rose hides their thorns beneath. At first glance, love wears a flawless guise, A captivating feeling, love at first sight.

But with time, story unfolds, In every love story, mysteries to be told.

Every rose has its own thorn, a truth unseen, In the heart’s garden, lessons between.

The mystery of love, with truth and lies

Every whispered vow, the connection ties.

Petals begin to fall, Love begins to fade.

The petals that once seemed perfect, Now unveil the cracks in love’s seamless shade.

Every smile has its sorrow, The complexities, crystal clear. In the garden, where souls meet, Every rose has its thorn, every love has its flaws.

Catherine Nuchvara (Cathy) Churchill (Visual Arts 10, Mr Patrick)

勤奋又 孝顺的 小明

By Taweewat

Thianphithak (Tepan) (Chinese 8, Ms. Shanshan)

Sirada (Peam) Lertkangwarnklai (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

很久以前,在中国的乡村有一个男孩叫小明。他的家里很贫穷,爸爸已经 死了,他的妈妈每天辛苦地帮别人洗衣服来赚钱。小明不认真学习,常常不听课, 又喜欢上课聊天。可是因为他发现了一件事,所以他改变了,变成了一个又勤奋努 力又孝顺的孩子。

有一个冬天,他下课回到家看到妈妈弯着腰坐在小椅子上洗衣 服,因为 太冷了,她的双手又皱又红,像一个烂掉的橘子皮一样, 可是他的妈妈默默地继 续洗。他看到妈妈这样,眼睛就流下了眼泪, 心里想:妈妈每天艰苦地赚钱,可是我 每天不认真听课。他就去 跟妈妈说:“对不起妈妈,你每天那么辛苦地工作,可是 我没有认 真学习。”妈妈就拍拍他的肩说:“没关系,妈妈不辛苦。”他 就一边哭一 边说:“从明天开始,我要认真学习;也要不聊天;还 要回家努力复习。这样可以找 好的工作来照顾你。”妈妈就说:“不管你会不会成功,不管你会不会有钱,不管你 能不能照顾我, 你永远都是我最爱的孩子。”最后,他每天勤奋好学和努力复习考 试,因为他知道这样他就可以成功,然后来照顾妈妈。13 年后,他 变成了一个银行 的经理,他就把妈妈带来城市来照顾她。

所以他知道了要勤奋努力才可以成功来照顾他爱的人。从这个故事我们 可以学到我们应该孝顺父母,也应该尽自己的责任,也应该勤奋努力, 这样你才会成功。

勤奋努力的小明

林英明 Putney

Panit Kosadat (Chinese 8, Ms. Shanshan)

不久以前,有一个男孩叫小明。他很喜欢跑步,从小他参加了很多跑步比赛,每次比赛他都赢,没有人 比他跑得快。

有一天,有一个新的人来跑步比赛。这个人也很棒,而且比小 明大很多,小明比赛输了。回家的时候他 哭了,心里想:“我怎么 会输呢?每次跑步我最快。我一个星期练习三次,每次都很努 力。”爸爸过来跟他说:“小 明不要哭。他不是比你棒,你们俩都 有很多技能,可是我认为他比你练习更多,也比你更努力,他就可 以比你 跑得快。”小明听到后毫不犹豫的去练习跑步。他很想 赢。他每天练习比以前多一个小时,不管下雨还是寒 冷,受伤还是 生病,孤独还是艰苦,他都努力练习。两个月过去了,小明去参加 比赛。他很紧张,身体颤抖。三二 一,开始。小明往前面看,继续跑,不管别人跑得快还是慢。后来,他终于赢了。他快快地去抱父母,他们三个人都 笑得很开心。

小明是一个勤奋努力的小孩子,他不放弃,每天努力的练习,后来就成功了。

坚持不放 弃的亮亮

黄蜜 Mee

Marlin Phaoluangthong (Chinese 6, Ms. Shanshan)

Design Kanjanapaarangura (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

很久以前,有一个女孩叫亮亮。她从小如花似玉,活泼好动。她跟她的 父母一起住。她是一个坚持不放弃的人。

有一天,她去买食物。突然,听到一个工作人员在高喊:“大家好,我 有一个好的消息。谁可以种一棵最高最美的树,就会得到一个超级大的奖 励,我给你们六个月的时间。”

亮亮听了很感兴趣,回家以后就马上种树。她每天认真地种树,亮亮 在心里想:“如果我每天认真地照顾它,那它一定会长得越来越高。”可是, 过了一个月那棵树只长高了一点点,亮亮坚持认真地给它浇水,还跟小树 说:“你快点长大吧。”时间过了两个月,树也还是只有一点点,亮亮有点 生气。她问爸爸:“为什么我的树还没长高?”爸爸语重心长地回答:“你要有耐 心,不放弃,你的树会一定会长高的。”亮亮听了爸爸的话,继续耐心地照顾小 树。又等了一个月,有一天早上起来,她发现它的小树终于长高了。她开心地 跳了起来。

六个月过去了,那个工作人员来看每个人的树。他跟亮亮说:“你的树 不仅高,而且漂亮,你怎么种你的树呢?”亮亮回答:“开始的时候,我的树还没 有长,我都想放弃了。我的爸爸告诉我要耐心地等,坚持不放弃,树一定会长高 的。”检查树的人跟亮亮说:“太好了,你不仅种了一颗高的树,而且学到了中国 的价值观,你想要什么奖励呢?”亮亮回答:“我什么都不要,我只想让你写一 首诗关于坚持不放弃的海报,放在墙上,让大家知道遇到困难的时候要坚持 不放弃。”

黄财玉 PimPim

坚持不放 小明的故事 吴欣伦 Kenny

Pimpatcha Amonpinyokeat (Chinese 6, Ms. Shanshan)

2000 年前,在中国古代,有了一位男生叫江河山。 河山从小就有了一个梦想,长大后像父亲一样成为一位 画家。他常常在花园里跟父亲一起画画,还跟着父亲一起 学画画。有时候河山也会在自己画画,把想到的东西画出 来。

河山 14 岁的时候,决定从中学毕业后就要进一个 美术大学。那个美术大学是中国最难进的一个大学。如果 想要进去这个大学,需要在 5 天的时间里画出一幅画。画 得最好的人才能进这个大学里学习。

河山参加了考试。5 天的时间很快结束了,很快就 有了一位画家来到了他的家来给他的画分数。画家一看 到了河山的画画,就笑着说:“你的画画真的太普通了,我

都不知道要给你几分,最多可能就是 3 分。如果你真的不 能画画,就去找别的事情做吧。”说完了,画家就笑着走出 了河山的家门口。河山眼泪忍不住地流了下来,慢慢地对 父亲说:“我可能就真的要去找别的事情做,是不是?”父亲 回答:“这怎么回事?成为一个画家是不是你的梦想?好,我 问你一下,你认识‘坚持不放弃’这个价值观吗?”河山点 点头。父亲继续说:“那如果认识,为什么放弃了呢?”河山

慢慢地说了起来:“因为我画画不好,那个画家也告诉了我 应该要找别的事情做。”父亲又继续说:孩子,请记得我对 你说的这句,‘你一次可能没成功,但是那个意思就不是你 一定要放弃’。你还有机会来画画的更好,所以快去洗脸, 还有来到花园,我会教你更多画画的方法好不好?河山回 答:“好,我一定不会放弃,继续跟着你学更多画画。”

河山继续认真跟着爸爸学了更多画画。19 岁的时 候,河山开了一个商店来卖自己的画画。只是短的时间过 去了,就有了越来越多的人来买画画,河山就慢慢的变成 了越来越有名。到了这天,江河山就算中国最有名的一位 画家,也成为了很多人坚持不放弃的榜样。

Phuriwat Lertsakunchareon (Chinese G8, Ms. ShanShan)

很久以前,有一个孩子的名字是小明, 小明是一个 聪明的人。他长得胖胖的,像小笼包一样。他有很短的头 发,很大的眼睛。每个人称赞他, 他努力的学习不放弃。

有一天,他的朋友跟他说你要跟我们玩游戏吗?他 小的时候不常常玩游戏,他就想要玩游戏了。所以他跟父 母说:“可以买一个游戏的电脑给我 吗?”爸爸看到他很努力的学习,就给他一个玩游戏的电 脑。从那天,他每天只玩游戏不努力学习了。爸爸妈妈很 担心。可是爸爸和妈妈有很多的工作,没有时间照顾小 明。小明九年级的时候发现了他怎么每一个题都不会做。

因为他每一天玩游戏不努力做功课,也不听老师。

最后,他给自己了一个目标, 要努力学习了,不要 玩游戏,长大的时候就可以去好大学。从那一天, 小明勤 奋努力的学习,他听老师,做功课。他的朋友说: “小明来玩游戏好吧?”他告诉他的朋友:“我一定要少玩 游戏,多学习!”

长大的时候小明变了一个很有名的人。他还帮助 像他小的时候一样的小孩,帮助他们变成一个认真学习 勤奋努力的孩子。小明变成每个人的榜样。最后,我想问 你们:你想做一个小的时候玩游戏不认真学习,长大的时 候没有工作做的人?还是你想做像小明一样,改变自己,认 真学习,然后大的时候变了每一个小孩的榜样?

A Necklace’s Tragic Elegance

Patchat (Otto) Kantakom (English 10, Mr. Maurice)

In the deafening silence, the silent beat of night; the blinding darkness, the absence of light. As the earth sleeps under her woolen gray quilt, and people rest, dreams intricately built.

In the monotone graphite, the ashen night, and the penetrating gray rays of light. In the moonlit road to the heavens above, and the small slivers of silver strands– the moon’s love.

A single necklace gleams, celestial light, a beacon, a chain of stars set alight: a constellation named Corvus, adorned on skin, it was gorgeous, an elegance within.

Handcrafted, it was a cherished delight, weaving from side to side, left to right. Hugging against bulging violet veins, against his neck, it restrains.

Like a river, meandering through a forest’s flourished plains, an avalanche, gliding through a mountain’s domains, a vine, spiraling around tree trunks and stones, a lover’s embrace, on collarbones.

It was an heirloom, nostalgia’s carrier red rubies whisper, “I am classier”

The pendant sways, a symbol quite fancier, worn with a gentle pride, he was finally happier.

Nuzzled by each loop, it gently sways, Like soft tides in the bays of May,

The tether stays strong, stays steadfast

It’s improved the life of this mere outcast

But as night continues, a haunting truth the relic creeks, a grinding tooth.

The necklace tightens, now a choker, His fate revealed, a cruel game of poker.

This cherished chain, now a rope. The hangman’s knot, the last hope.

His last dance, the last act a ghostlike twist, destiny blacked

The pendant heavy with the burden–the weight of his secret sin, draw the curtains.

The moonlight wails, owls hoot.

A final hymn plays, execute.

As shadows morph and echoes shriek,

A necklace worn, in death, he seeked.

Veranatcha (Clare) Rojana-amphai (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Chanyanuch (Mily) Sakdibhornssup

(Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

Porcelain Throne

Thanakorn (Burger)

Sajjavarodom

(English 10, Mr. Maurice)

A piercing blow filled with violence, a “ding! ding! ding!” of life threatening pain, I sharply jab to silence and my head cranes, and I look out it’s still dark out. The nightstand, the lamp, draped in dull grey, the day has begun, I had no say.

I’m senseless, giving my opponent a stare.

Pressed on my wall and one inch tall, he is mighty a couple metres away basking in darkness he’s gonna pay.

My head tilts down eyelids in free fall

I’m caressed like a dumpling, or by a grandma with a Southern drawl. But he’s sent his all he’s got nothing left, he heaves and huffs, soon his family will be bereft.

Two bandits in a saloon fight, in the wild wild west; I grab my revolver, I will end he which I detest. The tumbleweeds of my mind roll about endless.

The dust storm’s haze clamours my sight.

I almost succumb to grandma’s hug again, but, his hand is on his holster, and the trigger is pulled pulling myself out of bed.

A slow walk to my enemy, “Click!”

Turns out he’s dead.

The dark ages have ceased with a shower of light: An emperor’s coronation filled with elation; Little children wave flags, women line up for a sight, soldiers salute their respects. I can conquer the world!

I’m the greatest to ever do it!

A knockout punch to life’s smug face all on my own, my thoughts as I head to my porcelain throne.

A Thin Red Line

Thanin (Mega) Tantasatien

(English 10, Mr. Maurice)

Gullwing

Titus (Khao

Mai)

Surapanaonchai

(English G10, Mr. Maurice)

Into the valley of death, rode the 60 strong

As they waltzed through the hallways Their job was not to complain Their job was to do or die.

Up and at it, rode the 60 strong

Lead dispersed from their instruments

Rubber to correct mistakes

A 4 not good enough an 8 a miracle

They hacked and chipped through the papers Through the fray into their doom. The enemy in red, their instruments red With a terrifying red instrument, denying any future

At last it is the end

Time is up. It is all over

The enemy clicks their pens

A thin red line decides the future.

Dolce espressivo, a rainbow of vehemence. It’ll be not for her figure I barter a soul, as it’ll be for a sinuous grace ensues a wanderlust regard, and be for she sings unbounded unalike any equivalent.

A piacere, a never ending rhapsody. Wings unfurled whereupon she sweeps in, Drifting afloat her everlasting fantasy—a gull in flight. Sills vertically ascending, to which my spirit is akin.

Grazioso, a charm in beauty untamed. A celestial reflection, The paragon breathes a scintillating silver.

Cantabile, an arresting chorus.

In each revolution to discover an amorous entwining, my crescendoing fervour relishes an orchestration of infinite vocalisations— a resounding symphony, a rhythmic poise.

Animato, adventitious as she ought desire. The ether she soars, and in her cadence favours a temperamental dance further the winding, vertiginous tune of existence.

Jidapha (Tonkhing) Srathongnuan (Visual Art 9, Mr Patrick)

Con amore, but is this really love? Or beguiling affection unveiled in overt flourish to which I have plainly been shackled?

Da capo, and to which I yield; A welcome pleasure, be it just a reverie. She resonates in music, and I can feel her music.

Mr. Patrick Devlin

underexposed

Phutiluck (Pud) Lertsakuncharoen

I can still recall the first frame out of focus, full of life joyful faces filled the composition dark background, but a blur in the distance

Ray Nilvichean (Visual Art 9, Mr. Patrick)

then my aperture opened up sharp crystal pulled my world into focus beams of light sharp against my fragile sensor toppled by the wave of information

highlights that can never be recovered shadows void of any life

the world spins too rapidly, too chaotic to capture no matter how fast I push my shutter speed a blurry mess is what remains out of sync, out of focus, out of reach

my buffer is filled to the brim one more frame until I fall apart once a saturated image now a monochromatic echo

and if a picture is worth a thousand words why do words no longer concern me moments no longer worth capturing meaningless images spilling from my card broken, torn down lens shattered, battery drained grainy shadows envelop my frame

Neen (Xiu Xiu) Lawsereevanit

(English 6, Mr. Ben)

Forests in dire need of help, We stand witness, nature’s fall from grace.

The ice caps continue to melt, This was once a lively place.

The air fogs, life wanes, Humanity, has nothing to gain. Plants die, Species vanish.

The thriving ecosystems will soon be banished. In this world, much damage has been done, But fear not, we can unite as one.

Together we shall conquer this scourge, Hope shall not be submerged!!!

Therada (Tubtim) Suebvattana (Visual Art 9, Mr. Patrick)

Khatthaliya (Dou dou) Watthanaphuthikamjorn

Grace L.

(English 6, Mr. Ben)

Spring has come, the flowers bloom, idyllic, like a fairytale above lies a nest of a nightingale cherishing this moment. This peculiar paradise, I never want to part. The birds chirped gracefully above the magnificent wisteria tree. This scene so majestic, oh how I wish this would last; an eternity…

(English 6, Mr. Ben)

Seeing the trees die, Feeling the chills on my spine, One might fall on me.

Looking at a tree, Hearing it fall on the ground, There is no more hope.

A nest in the tree, Watching it fall to the ground, Will it be ok?

Seeing the bird fall, Picked it up with my bare hands, Tears ran down my face.

Yannapich (Pik) Foong

Pitchaya (Pepe) Chayunupatkul (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick) Phutiluck (Pud)

ฉัครอโณทัย Pailin

พนมซ้�ยต�มด้วยขว�

Catherine Nuchvara (Cathy) Churchill (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Supada (Pam) Lertkangwarnklai (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

Sarinda (Praew) Lertkangwarnklai

(Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Ms. Viorica Barbu Interconnected

Mr. Patrick Devlin

I savour the water I close my eyes and the sun warms my face I feel the wind on my skin I am grateful for the rain My feet are kissing the earth

This is bliss.

Navapat (Kate) Tichachol (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Veranatcha (Clare) Rojana-amphai (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Thanin (Mega) Tantasatien

(Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Pimpatcha (Pim Pim) Amonpinyokeat

(English 6, Ms. Jen)

We were once handed that golden key

To change and rely on better energy sources

But we accidentally lost that key

And now it’s nowhere to be found

The city is dark and eerie, with no light to be found

The air is polluted from those non-renewable energy sources

Their prices are getting higher and higher

Which people can’t seem to afford

Why is our world this way?

We are starting to lose hope if we could ever change

Losing that golden key and those opportunities

Can we actually find a new way to resolve this conflict?

PunPun

(English 6, Mr. Ben)

Once so lively

Trees that bloomed,

Branches that stretched far and wide,

But alas, tragedy took its toll

Forests crumble, Flowers wither, Nothing escaping,

The wrath of the tractor

May we embrace

The future of a thriving forest

Full of creatures of every species

Once so lively

Ramida (Grace) Vittayanagorn (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

小文和

林丽丽 Grace L

Grace Limchimchol (Chinese 6, Ms. Shanshan)

1978 年,在中国有一家人生活得很幸福。这家有一个活泼好动女孩子, 地的名字是小文,今年九岁。小文的头发咖啡色像巧克力一样。她的眼睛圆 圆地像葡萄一样。但是小文学习很差,毎天去学校总是喜欢找朋友玩。

有一天,学校来了一个新同学,她的名字是小花。小花走进学校的时候

小文毫不犹豫地跑出欢迎她。小花的腿又细又长,像筷子一样。她的眼睛小 小的,像豆子一样。不久,小文发现了小花的家很有钱。有天小花戴一个手 表来学校。所有人去看小花的手表,小文骄傲地站在小花的旁边对大家说: “ 小花是我的好朋友!”

不久,小文和小花一起走去体育课。体育课开始的时候小花摘下手表, 轻轻地放在他的新书包里。小文一边看一边想:小花不在的时候,我可以去 偷他的手表,这样我就有很多朋友!小文等了等,等小花去上厕所。他走进 厕所以后,小文毫不犹豫地快快跑去小花的新书包去找手表。小文找了很 久,都找不到。突然!小文听到一个人高喊:“小文!你在做什么呢?”

小文回头看到小花怒气冲冲地站在门口,在等小文回答。小文紧张地回 答:“ 我没有做什么呢。”小花顶着小文说:“真的吗?”小文叹了口气不 好意思地解释:“对不起,我来找你的手表因为我嫉妒你,你有很多朋 友!”小花笑地说:“虽然你做的事情非常坏,但是我原谅你我希望你不要 再做。”

那天以后,小文学会了要诚实,不要说谎。我们每个人都要 做一个诚实的人啊!

Echoes of a lost era

Melada (Reiko) Phurkwattanagul

(English 6, Mr. Ben)

Worlds corrupting, Planets consumed, Mountains erupting, Death’s reach resumed.

Once running free under the night Disasters seemed so far away. Now it looks like disaster’s here to stay Living freely with no fright,

They held their head high as they lost the war, Flowers that grew died of thirst, The drought became a bore Disasters seemed so far away.

Vatcharasak (Petch) Jantorn (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Natneri (Fern) Tanusuwankasem (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

Piramon (Nampetch) Derojanawong (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

The Foundation of Poetry

Patchara (Yumi) Jatupornpukdi

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

I ask them to unearth the jack in the box, and look through the delicate designs like an intricate treasure–

Or perhaps look through the window, I say drop a question, and watch as it unfolds, for better or for worse

Feel the rhythm of its heartbeat and dance to the DJ’s song number

We are everything but a puppeteer, But only waves of water pushing the Charon across the Acheron river

A book must be judged by its cover The melodies may sound odd to one but beautiful to another, But all they want to do is rewrite the chronicle,

Trying to find the stories behind the artifact, in the sand, Forcing irrelevant power and importance. Without understanding the real beauty.

The joy of discovery, The warmth of familiarity.nn

Thornton (Theo) Srivongthong

(English 6, Ms. Jen)

The Si Racha Coastline was covered in oil

The water was black

The Habitats came to a boil

It was like an attack

Animals are intoxicated from the spill

The Environment is filled with danger

Nothing can save them but a pill

And to have a Changer

We must fix this

We must act

We must save fish

And it is a fact

You must see

Because soon they will die

You must be

But keep your hopes high

Uniform

Kittiya (L) Vongjarukorn

(English 10, Mr. Maurice)

Each button secures our fate, collars pressed down straight.

In the woven fabric, a sense of classic.

In the twisted cotton, something rotten.

A muted hue, rules askew.

A stitching of rules, followed only by fools.

Colourful locks, everyone gawks.

Holes in the ear, detention appears. No freedom, only wisdom.

White polo shirt. Grey short skirt.

Phutiluck (Pud) Lertsakuncharoen

Paratchaya (Homdaeng) Prasarttongosoth (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Smita (Minnie) Deeritdecha (Visual Arts 11, Mr. Patrick)

The Fragile Flower

Phutiluck (Pud) Lertsakuncharoen

Bloomed radiantly under the morning sun gentle with its glow making petals translucent.

Bloomed in the cold rain swaying to the wind’s rhythm though its roots were long rotten.

When the pouring rain stopped. Consumed by the drought, y e a r n i n g , c r a v i n g , l o n g i n g , s o b b i n g silently.

And when it finally ran dry, the flower wept cold tears. Under the fluorescent moon it shattered.

petals wailed, stems wilted no one, no one batted an eye, so the flower died.

Who would care for one dead flower. in this endless twirling orchard

After we have finished here,

The world will begin its descent into quiet chaos And the years will commence Now with their numbers etched into the ground.

When Eating an Apple

Preeyapat (Sophia) Lohstapornpipit

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

Time will spin on its axis, It’s hands winding in reverse To mark the beginning of humanity Of life, of death, of love

Paradise will cease to exist

Eternal bliss a privilege

Revoked by dint of greed and sin.

Perhaps this was the reason

For heaven and hell in this universe

For God would reward his Good Samaritans

With a glimpse of the Garden that could have been home

While those who surrendered to the seven deadly sins

Lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride

Would be condemned

In an infinite pit of fiery wrath by His hand

And the middleground

That lay between these two absolutes:

A world

Of blood, of war, of life and loss

Where mere mortals

Would have to learn the suffering of birth and death; Bearing the burden of conscience.

Now if only

The evil serpent had not hissed Its silent command, Tormenting her with tangible temptation

The apple would be pristine on both sides–Not with worms crawling and flies buzzing

Around the rotten imprint of Eve’s bite

Kreerawat (Bill) Korcharoenkiat

(Visual Art 9, Mr. Patrick)

Hidden behind the shadow of a forbidden fruit.

Sirada (Peam) Lertkangwarnklai (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

Ananya (Lily) Luesukprasert (English 6, Mr. Ben)

Large and continuous, Shining through days, Waving through nights, A faint little hue, The ocean glows, Painting a canvas Of murdering beauty, Drawing memories, Never to be replaced, A splash of color, Never to be erased, Full of mystery and deception, Where your weary’s lightened, Fall into the calm and quiet, Disappear with no fright, Fade away into the illuminating lights.

Elegy of Drifting Ships

Paradee (Meepoo) Arkarattanakul

The streets are filled with ghosts. Her height, his hair. The colour you used to wear. Strangers have stolen your likeness, distorted it with age, Time has scratched and clawed and caressed.

Ghosts morph into blurs, blurs morph into stillness. A shot from the Lethe. The ephemerality of memory must make phantoms lonesome. Fondness is a fickle master.

(If you saw me, would you recognize me?)

(If I saw you, would I say anything?)

They say to let bygones be bygones, but masks of strangers belie sunkissed mementos lost to the wind. Apathy brings melancholy, the window remains unbroken.

You dance inside, the same as everyone else in their own little houses. Muscle memory predicts the steps, but outsiders only get curated glances.

(I want to say I miss you but we're nothing more than strangers with memories)

Ships in the night may start from the same port, may cross paths in the vast sea. Their parting is silent, only the crash of waves to accompany their drift away from each other.

(who are you?)

The White Tuft

Piyawat (Tian) Kongboonma

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

The tuft was given at the age of four

From my bald scalp, a lone white patch arose Blissfully ignorant; At leisure, I played and ran free, unconcerned by this part that others would see. While family embraced it with much grace, I’d run around with a smile on my face.

But with growing years came the pain of words “Old man,” from afar I heard— A shadow that followed me; captivating me from running free. And so I shrank from the crowd, from their laughter that rang loud— their never ending “clown”

Ending it all, I dyed it black, and surely this would stop their vicious attacks.

Then acceptance started to whisper, be proud. For not in the black dye should my hair and spirit be shroud. The different lands of shade sprouted once again; But this time as an honor of fame!

This tuft once made me hide; but now I wear it like a badge of pride. Now. The tuft became a lesson— uniqueness is a force to be reckoned.

Pitchaya (Pepe) Chayunupatkul

(Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

The Birth of A World

Chutiphan (Kurtis) Sun

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

The night descends upon the world, Slowly sheathing the lands with it’s shadows, As everything in the night's reach are cut off from worldly attachments.

And here I am, on my balcony, Watching as buildings and cars alike, Simply disperse without revolt.

And yet my mind tells me, All I can do is watch, Watch as the city lights are fighting A futile battle that ended with the Void's triumph.

It began engulfing my building. Amid the silence of the night, A weird sense of salvation can be felt, Warming the soul in the chilly night.

The Shadows embrace my body, Gently dragging me into the Abyss. It was too peaceful a feeling, Nothing like the prophesied apocalypse.

At the center of the Abyss, Is a glowing ball of light, My body gravitates towards it, A Calling, a Divine Command.

Instinctively, I reach out my hand, Gently wrapping the ball in my hands, But even with the slightest touch,

The orb shatters into endless shards of blinding stardust, Mindlessly drifting into eternal darkness, Only time will tell, If they are the Hope for a universe anew.

Mr. Patrick Devlin

Lily Kanapote (Pote)Tanpetcharat

(English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

The way the lily leans with a casual grace towards the sun on a June morning, without a care for fashion or the gardener's critique, unfazed by the swirling gossips or the sotto voce murmurs of society, never fails to make me ponder with a tranquil smile.

Who provides a finer example of a life at its purest–Socrates in his unassuming toga, with a single cup, a single olive, or Diogenes with his lantern and modest barrel?

Off she dances into the meadow, with nothing but her green leggings and dearest white dress, following only the routine of sunlight and raindrop waltzes, and whispers of the wind's whimsical breaths.

If only she did not carry latent toxins within her fragrant bloom, and tempt unsuspecting visitors with her spells, what a model of benign beauty she would be, what a paragon of pure innocence. If only she were not so insistent

Beyond Beeping Kaem Watchararakkawong

(English 10, Mr. Maurice)

A white room with tiled ceilings and large windows— with all the city view and bright white lights— shining down on me and the endless beeping of pulses– of which I hear

In this moment I lie, heart still beating and I’m still breathing, yet feeling as if half dead.

Invisible chains wrapped around my limbs years on this bed— the sheets remain uncreased the pink snapdragons that once bloomed now turned into rotten, thin, crispy films even the touch of a fly could turn it to dust With nothing to do and nothing I can do boredom no longer exists in my dictionary

In this moment I lie—eyes closed pray to God to let me go. A black vortex pulls me in white room gone— in a spin

A golden gate floating on the cottons of the sky

“This Peace is Always Open” largely printed on the sign A never-ending daylight of springfield with pink pulsing blossoms, and emerald green budding clouds, and glow on the endless clear blue veins

Welcoming with a warm heart— the stairways to paradise Angels from above— eternal life harmonious tunes ringing in my ears fa la la~ the stairsteps of lilies descend into the depths of my soul It was at this moment that the beeping disappeared.

Phutiluck (Pud) Lertsakuncharoen

My Zaanse Schans

Panisara (Grand) Haluethaisirirach (English 10, Ms. Baertschy)

There are many that I miss

From hanging my last one on the wall

Leaving them to never be touched, years ago.

Liquitex Professional, of course:

After a cup of coffee, the stroke of the brush

Creating smooth rhythmic lines; During the sleepless nights

Producing the ineffable from the jumbled mind And colors animating the blank canvas; Or in the bustling museum

Holding the small brush giving an attempt, Never pausing, recreating the early classics.

How wistful these tools are

Of the brushstrokes and endless tint. But the best were at Zaanse Schans

Where the meadow full of tulips stands

Dancing along the wind’s joyful tune, With the calming river flowing through town, With the windmill turning slowly in the background.

I brought out the easel

Along with the brushes and paint, And mix my concoction,

Recreating the scene with great detail, To create my own little Zaanse Schans.

Merely now being a recollection of the past, Under the mountain of files, Under the unceasing paperwork, With no signs of ending, The days turn into years, Where I work till I tire, Left with no life to even lift a small, tiny brush.

With the sun rises and bids farewell, The tools sat in the room corner, Collecting dust, never being touched. Today I stare down at the box of tools, And up at my little Zaanse Schans, Hanging on the lonely wall.

Wondering, when will my life come back, To where I could lift my brush up once more.

Nisanat (Janie) Laoharavee Visual Arts 9, Mr. Patrick)

Mr. Patrick Devlin

Thievery

Peera (Aood) Wasusopon (English 10, Mr. Maurice)

I like stealing, I like robbing- theft- pilfering I'm a sneaky poacher; I like taking things that do not belong to me.

I'm a thief. a professional thief. Unlike those from the other-hoods My tactics aren't as crude; But still just as shrewd.

When I break in no one will know, but when I leave my presence will show You will notice... or you won't but never until it is too late

I always keep behind a little piece of the kids sublime, prime, plastic Blind to the naked eye; Deadly to any naked foot And the price for a lego piece?

My generosity, the piece is free The peace however, a price a deal you can't refuseall your sweet, sour, shocking, double AAs And those rolls of white gold. The scented scroll no man willing to go to war without

Patchara (Yumi) Jatupornpukdi (Visual Art 10, Mr. Patrick)

Just One Line

Swank award

I'd rather be in a loin cloth on the Serengeti Plains with a drum than smart casual in a condo with a cell phone.

- Mr. Robert

Red world flows as rivers while the brass powder shoots echos in air

- Pai C. G10

Drinking in the summer air, prowling the sun-lit fields, the world seemed all so merry.

- Leo G7

Popular award

The wind ate my screams and the trees did nothing.

- Mr. Nick D.

Hit the griddy MISTER MAURIIIIIICE.

- Henry G10

Eighteen years of pain to experience a life of torture, education is weird.

- Leo G7

Headlines blazed with bombings, babies, and blood as he recalled that timeless hustler's adage: yesterday's price is not today's price.

- Mr. Alex

It was a night of errors, the dawn of life.

- Ms. Viorica B.

So this is how I'll die, he thought-a nose full of dust, trapped under concrete walls with a view of a perfect, cloudless blue sky, bulldozers cranking, mens shouting and .... a dog's nose sniffing into my tiny portal to life.

- Ms. Baertschy

Wallow in the wake of the Deepest Fakes as the Radical Republic runs rife.

-

- Mr. Maurice

Popular Hounourable mentions

When I realize life is an experience, tomorrow becomes mysterious, yesterday became less serious, and today becomes luxurious.

- Emily G12

Is your body from McDonald's, because I'm lovin' it!

- - Peam G11

Sometimes our infrastructure fails... But hell, at least its there.

- Prinn G12

Life is roadblocks

- Kirk G10

Learning is a pain, each society's bane.

- Leo G7

"We share the same heart, we bear the same weight, we cry the same tears… but I am NOT her."

-- Nina G8

Towering above the skies, a lone red kite floats within the fields of home, waiting.

- Leo G7

The true factor behind each and one of us' actions, the universal fuel for every thinking being, is to strive for importance.

- Leo G7

Chatawee (Grey) Nanvimolchai (Visual Art 11, Mr. Patrick)

Ms. Baertschy

Teachers

The grinding of the ship's engines startled her, she grasped the railing and only for a second, noticed the seagulls already swarming behind, ready to scavenge; she should have, but she did not, wonder why returning to this island would haunt her for the next fifty years.

In haste she put her five year old on a floatie as she saw the shark approaching her own limbs.

Brenda Sackler considered herself an experienced world traveler, a connoisuer of the exotic with few things that remained curious to her-then she met Rayne.

Left to her own devices, she could daydream all the wanted.

The egg gave off the smell of a century.

"You don't need to be a Swiftie to shake it off", the old man thought. The cat came out of the bag.

Circumstances mean no harm, it is just want to teach.

She cuts a piece of reassurance and spreads it on consolation skin.

He had done it. He had saved the world. But at what cost?

To be or not to be, that is the question, to be, that is the solution.

Do you hear the people sing, singing the song of angriness, it is the music of the people who will not have homework again!

If you don't get enough water, hard stools and constipation could be common side effects, along with abdominal pain and cramps.” Dull skin, dehydration shows up on your face in the form of dry, ashy skin that seems less radiant, plump and elastic, Fatigue.

The Family: J, L, K, M.

Learning is a pain, each society's bane.

Ms. Viorica B.

Ms. Melina C.

maybe i am different, who knows what will happen in the future.

- Cheeva G10

I'm tellin you, he drinks from the well and a few minutes later, he has burst into flames.

The feeling of dread crawls on me; slowly, moving from my waist to my chest, neck and slowly into my mouth and eyes. I am consumed by the dread of expectations, hardship and non-certainties.

The balcony was flooded and his feet were wet, though he stayed there, his cares went away with the winds of the storm.

To let go or to let them lose you.

- Clare G10

This is, [indent] just one line.

- Kurtis G10

You will never be your highest dream, you will be the lowest version of yourself you will tolerate.

- K G10

The world continue to turns and move every second yet my heart stopped right there, there where I first met you.

- Grand G10

It could be myself or anyone else that took away, away all my nights away from all days, shines low slowly just so surely, that it continues its burning through the emptiness in me.

- Pai G10

What is a man without his perfumes.

You may live without your friends, You may live without your family but you may never live without your dawg

two eyes staring at me through the window in the middle of the night

- Cathy G10

If your problems cant be solved with someone dead, or burning something up, then your problems are beyond solving.

- Mega G10

A wish upon a star, can you believe we've already come this far...

- Aimee G7

She had to be good at school and get good grades but she always psyched herself out.

- Raffi G7

UN World Ocean Day 2024

Visual Arts 10 Collaborative

Kate, Yumi, L, Mei, Hom Daeng, Cal, Clare, Grand, Cathy, Nampetch, Mega, Petch, Henry, Kirk, Praew, Grace, Pepe, Pim, Kaimook, Mr. Patrick

Florence's Brush Concept Studio Club

Our Mission

Introduction

Florence's Brush is a vibrant non-profit organization committed to nurturing the creative spirit in young artists while making a positive impact on education in rural areas. Founded on the belief that every child deserves the opportunity to explore their artistic potential and access quality education, Florence's Brush seamlessly intertwines art, creativity, and learning.

What issues are we addressing?

At Florence's Brush, our mission is to empower aspiring young artists, providing a vibrant platform that nurtures creativity and self-expression. Simultaneously, we are dedicated to making a lasting impact on education in underserved rural areas by leveraging the universal language of art to facilitate engaging English language learning experiences. Through innovative programs and community engagement, Florence's Brush aims to bridge gaps, inspire learning, and foster a brighter future where every stroke of the brush contributes to individual growth and community development. At Florence's Brush, our mission is to empower aspiring young artists, providing a vibrant platform that nurtures creativity and self-expression. Simultaneously, we are dedicated to making a lasting impact on education in underserved rural areas by leveraging the universal language of art to facilitate engaging English language learning experiences. Through innovative programs and community engagement, Florence's Brush aims to bridge gaps, inspire learning, and foster a brighter future where every stroke of the brush contributes to individual growth and community development.

• Barries to education in rural areas

• Traditional learning methods

• Unappreciated artist craftsmanship

How are we tackling the issues?

• Provides quality learning materials to children in rural areas

• Exploring more artistiic learning methods

• Showcasing and highlighting every artists' creative skills

Why do we address these issues?

Tackling the issues of quality education and unappreciated artwork is paramount for a thriving society. By seamlessly integrating both of quality education and artwork appreciation, artists have the potential to benefit the community by creating educational materials, simultaneously garnering appreciation for their artwork and generating a positive social impact. Let's champion these causes for a brighter, more inclusive future!

Sarisa (Design)Kanjanaparangura

Kantapat (Jerry)Puttakotirat

Chatawee (Grey) Nanvimolchai

Smita (Minnie) Deeritdecha

Chanyanuch (Mily) Sakdibhornssup

Apply now! Scan to access form

Farewell Messages

Mr. Alvin Sexton

Farewell to Concordian Students!

It truly has been my honor and privilege to have this golden opportunity to teach all of my Concordian students. You have been delightful, polite, fun, funny, inspirational, and determined to be successful in your academics and in your personal lives. I am very proud of each of you! I wish you continued success and God’s richest blessings in all of your future dreams and plans for a GREAT life ahead! I will miss you and hope that we can cross paths again in the future, for this is not really a farewell but only a moment in time … until we meet again!

Sincerely,

Mr. Alvin Sexton

MYP Digital Design Teacher

"Education is not preparation for life; education is life itself" - John Dewey

Dr. Claudia Moretto

To my dear students, so bright and true, Our journey together now bids adieu. From Thailand's shores to Brazil's embrace, Memories of you I'll always trace.

Grade 10 students, cooking with flair, Grasping concepts with skill and care. Your insights and efforts, such a delight, Made each lesson shine so bright.

Grade 8's energy, laughter, and cheer, Filled our days with joy so clear. Your vibrant spirit, your endless quest, Made teaching you truly the best.

Grade 11, I know math's not your fave, But your perseverance made you brave. Through each equation, each challenge faced, Your determination I truly embraced.

Grade 12, our tiramisu fun, Now off to study abroad, each one. Your future is bright, your paths so wide, Carry our memories with pride.

As I set sail to a distant shore, Know that your spirits will forever soar. Keep exploring, keep learning, with courage and cheer, For the future is yours, so bright and clear.

Though miles apart, in my thoughts you'll stay, Farewell, dear students, you'll light my way. With gratitude and love, I say goodbye, May your dreams take wing and forever fly.

Ripples

Mr. Alessio Spada

The Great Wheel turns and churns and burns

The hours we have Cosmic ripples of time to come and time To go

As flames turn to ashes turn to dust turn to air Turn to breath

Another phoenix rises and flies Off to distant shores

Where capybaras and anacondas Push the Great Wheel ever forward

And so it is that the ever-hungry Father-God Absolute in terms but relative To itself

Goads guides pushes us --wielding his blue-fisted sceptre-Out the door into a new year

Partings sunder the veil of belonging so that We may see

Just behind the shadow of yet another Summative

The memories of everything we’ve been

I have been honoured To spend my time here I have been gifted Inestimable treasures I have been given The pleasure of knowing you I have been told That You are the best and I agree

As a purportedly wise man once said in French We are condemned to be free Of labels Of meanings Of directions

No path is laid out for us, so we must make our own Mine has led me here to You And I couldn’t be more grateful

For all of You

Dr. Tresa Virankabutra

To All Beloved High School students

Which Colleges offer the most money and scholarships

Come on, you need to tell me what to do and please share your best tips Which Universities are easier to get into with these grades And what must I do to make sure my application doesn’t fade

I will be thinking of each one of you as you progress through your high school

As your questions echo off the walls of the Counseling Department providing you with the right tools You WILL go to university and yes there is a ‘right fit’ for each of you, so stop fretting Cause you will succeed in all that you do and that is something that I am betting

I will miss the interactions and long conversations whether it be choosing the right subject Or looking for internships or summer schools, or working on the right school project Whether it be talking about stressors, and handling emotionally charged situations

Do not give in or give up but keep focusing on your future, your education

Strive for excellence in all that you do

Understanding that gain sometimes comes with pain too It’s not all about being brighter or smarter or an award winner But knowing that everyone started somewhere as a beginner

You hold the keys to your future

And deciding which doors to open as you mature Understanding which battles to take on and which to walk away from Shows you now know you and you will walk to the own beat of your drum

Remember to play your drum for a better tomorrow, a peaceful coexistence That everyone has a right to the planet we call Earth and to support and assistance Do your part and expect only the best from yourself and others around And always lend a hand to pick up someone who might have fallen down

Like the millions of stars that twinkle in the vast galaxy May your star burn bright throughout your life

And may you always know you are a special star

One that can be appreciated from both near and far Dr. Tresa

Voices Magazine

Coaches

Ms. Kathleen Baertschy

Mr. Maurice Mickle

Mr. Roxy Yuen

Layout design

Chatawee (Grey) Nanvimolchai

Paradee (Meepoo) Arkarattanakul

Smita (Minnie) Deeritdecha

Cover Page

Chatawee (Grey) Nanvimolchai

Perada (Dear) Watanadilokkul

Editors

Chatawee (Grey) Nanvimolchai

Kyla Abigail Jayapurna

Kittiya (L) Vongjarukorn

Paradee (Meepoo) Arkarattanakul

Smita (Minnie) Deeritdecha

Club Members

Paradee (Meepoo) Arkarattanakul

Kyla Abigail Jayapurna

Perada (Dear) Watanadilokkul

Tsheyang Wangchuk Tsering

Luna Luesukprasert

Kittiya (L) Vongjarukorn

Chatawee (Grey) Nanvimolchai

Smita (Minnie) Deeritdecha