The Avatar - Spring 2023

THE AVATAR

HARVEY'S ART AND LITERARY

MAGAZINE 2023

The Avatar

Harvey's Art and Literary Magazine

Spring 2023

Avatar Staff

Editors

Isabella Wang

Sophia Beldotti

Brandon Hall

Layout Designer

Riley D'Onofrio Advisor

Carolyn Bean

Cover Art

Sophia Beldotti

Digital Art

Eggs and Toast

My Normal Isn’t Their Normal

Digital Image

War Wagon & Purple

Flowers Know Best

Roll The Tape

Acrylic Paintings

Eye Of The Hurricane

Studio Art Class

My Name

Moon Jellies and Hermit crabs

Charcoal Drawing

Gary Snail

Where the Highway Leads

In the Greenest Darkness, I Hear Whispered

A Flower's Choice

Beldotti

Rynott Breede

Florin

Kreisberg Sklar

Lazzaro

Wang

Mejia

Falk

Williams

Sussman

SOPHIA BELDOTTI

EGGS AND TOAST BY DANIELA RYNOTT

Aurelius Devereux was a common man. When the alarm went off at 6:00 AM every morning, he woke up without hesitation. While he squeezed his tweed suit over his broad shoulders, his wife Margaret would make him two sunny side up eggs on buttered toast She always brushed down the one hair that stood up compared to the other gelled ones, but it never did anything. Margaret had been his neighbor growing up, and their mothers were best friends that had tea every Thursday afternoon. Not marrying her was never an option. As for work, the outside world didn’t know what his job was, so Margaret would rotate between calling him a doctor, lawyer, and surgeon All of the ladies in the orthodontist’s waiting room were impressed with these answers, and would even put their magazines down to hear more about his occupation. As for Aurelius, he didn't know what he did either. Every day, he punched in his card for attendance, plugged numbers into paper forms, drank two cups of decaf coffee, and then came home at 5:00 PM for dinner Nothing ever seemed wrong or out of ordinary until one extremely odd day

Aurelius woke up at 6:13 AM, which started the whole frenzy. His alarm clock hadn’t gone off! “That darn thing,” he growled, waking up Margaret. Startled at his out-of-the-ordinary grumpiness, she stroked his arm and whispered, “Don’t you fret, dear. I can buy a new one today while you’re at work ”

As Aurelius looked at Margaret’s face, he was suddenly repulsed and even jumped back so far that he fell off the bed. Everything about her seemed wrong: the way mascara residue had built up on the roots of her eyelashes, how she now had three intruding strands of gray hair, how there were batches of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that he had once thought cute but now seemed abhorrent, and how her once-hazel eyes now were now dirt-brown and dull As his head hit the floor, he felt no love towards her all of a sudden - in fact, he was angry at her. He hated how calm she always was. Could she not feel a goddamn thing?

“Honey, are you alright?” Margaret squeaked from above. Rubbing his head, he gritted through the gap in his front teeth, “No. I’m not ” And just like that, he stood up and glided out of the room It wasn’t until he reached the bright red front door that his wife trotted after him in

her flowing white nightgown.

“Sweetheart, where are you going?”

Her breathy housewife’s voice was more annoying than a Chihuahua's high pitched barks, and he wished she would just shut up already. “I’m going to live my life, which I have never done. Good day to you.” Hastily, he slipped his beige trenchcoat over his plaid pajamas, grabbed his top hat off the coat rack, tilted it towards his wife politely, and then slammed the door behind him, leaving a cool breeze to whip Margaret in the face If it was even possible, he felt more hatred towards her as she didn’t run after him. It was just like her to accept whatever he said and just go along with it. He walked faster.

More adrenaline pumped through Aurelius’s veins than blood, and it felt great but also terrifying. He didn’t know where he was going, but he let his feet carry him to the correct destination As he strolled along the neighborhood of identical Brownstone houses, he started breathing heavily and his nostrils inflated and deflated to a rhythm and beat.

I’ve spent my whole life in a useless routine. My existence means nothing. How could I have let this happen? I am able to determine my own path and I allowed it to slip away like sand. Who knows how much time I have left? I could die anytime Hell, I could die today!

Just as Aurelius thought this, a two-seater car slammed into him, knocking him to the ground in the middle of an intersection. Countless pairs of eyes were staring at him behind car windowpanes, so he didn’t want to make an even bigger show. Dusting his pants off, he stood up and limped away.

I just got hit by a car Aurelius turned this thought over and over in his head But I kept walking and that kid kept driving So no one really cares, do they? I bet he’ll go home and tell this story to his parents, but they’ll all forget about it in a few months or a year.

Suddenly, Aurelius felt a stab of pain in his leg. He stopped for a brief moment only to look down and see a red syrup oozing out of his right calf, where the rubber pattern of the car tire was imprinted on However, Aurelius knew he couldn’t return home to his wife, who would bandage him up like an infant. In fact, he didn’t want help from anyone - not even a doctor - and so he took his handkerchief out of his trenchcoat pocket and

wrapped it around the wound

Freedom. People say America is free, but it really isn’t unless everyone inhabiting it feels the same type of liberty as I am experiencing right now. Maybe it’s good that some people will never feel this. It is quite painful. Now, where to go?

Aurelius had reached a fork in the road and couldn’t choose which direction to follow Bare skeleton trees enveloped him, their branches seeming to want to strangle him. Like a child, he chuckled as he kicked around the yellow leaves that buried his shoes. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood / And sorry I could not travel both. Finally, Aurelius decided to go on a diagonal route in between the roads This was a result of the indecisiveness that comes from freedom, as well as the fact that he always liked diagonals rather than horizontals or verticals - they were more unpredictable.

After about a mile of following this grassy and unpaved direction, Aurelius gained a heightened awareness of his gash. It had bled through the handkerchief long ago, and his leg was now spurting out blood that pooled in his leather shoe The world appeared shaky as dizziness overcame him.

Just as Aurelius was about to lie down in the grass and surrender his life, a miracle came about. Only a short distance away, he caught sight of a building. It was brick and colorful Christmas lights shone through the windows, even though it was only November He trudged his way to the house, desperate to sit down somewhere, but it was too late. He looked down at his feet and realized he was on a gravel road, and when he looked up, a car was backing into him.

“Aw no,” he grumbled as the trunk smacked into his face, causing a snapping noise in his nose However, the car didn’t fully run him over, as the driver seemed to gain awareness of his presence

The driver stepped out of the car and rushed towards him, only to stand over him and smile, hoping Aurelius could see through his swollen eyelids It was Margaret

“Hello, husband,” she slurred with an air of superiority She was wearing a leather jacket and low rise jeans, something she always talked smack about before. “Only people who cheat on their husbands wear those,” she’d claim.

“Margaret, help,” Aurelius gasped, although he knew his attempts at getting her help would be fruitless

With a smirk, his wife pulled an egg out of her pocket - why it was there in the first place, he knew not - and cracked it over his face, the orange yolk trying to make its way into his pupils. “You forgot to eat breakfast,” she said, a psychotic smile playing on her face, and then she ended the final act. She stepped on his face with her platform leather boots

One must imagine him happy

MY NORMAL ISN’T THEIR NORMAL BY CONRAD BREEDE

They stare at us weirdly, like we have a volcano on our heads. When they stare at us weirdly, it makes me want to turn into liquid and slip between the floorboards and just disappear They find me being myself humorous, and unnatural. It’s because my normal isn’t theirs.

All I want to do is be myself, but it’s complicated to do that, because they judge. They are the ones who make it weird, right? I want to dance freely without the weight of their opinions on my shoulders But it’s hard Nobody wants to stick out from the norm And if you do, you are ninety-nine percent going to be ridiculed for it. But if you’re one of the lucky few, like the children from Willy Wonka, you’ll get your golden ticket and succeed.

However, when I’m around people who either are the same as me or don’t judge me, I feel like it’s the haven where I can escape

Where there’s people I can relate to and or be comfortable with being myself. When will this end, when will they start growing up, and expanding their mind. I’ve already bloomed like the Cherry Trees. I’ve already emerged from my chrysalis. When will they?

DIGITAL IMAGE BY CHRISTINA PHIPPS

PURPLE BY RYAN BYRNE

WAR WAGON BY RYAN BYRNE

OPHELIA:

It seems mine eyes have given up on weeping.

I am afflicted by a grief invading mine heart like a weed with many tendrils;

One, the end of mine father

Another, the end of mine courtship with a love

My virtue soiled by the very same man who cast me to a nunnery.

And yet, my sorrows no longer conjure tears

Instead, I’ve found that my misfortune hath freed my tongue

Perhaps my mind doth teeter on madness

And my tone lacks appropriate restraint

But just as rain doth give way to sprouting buds

My grief hath watered my honestly, and oh!

How now it doth grow

Perhaps only the deranged sing so recklessly and unapologetically as I did

But only the fools fail to notice my implications beneath my denotations

Only the fools miss the truth woven in the madness.

But not mine beautiful blossoms

My pretty perennials perfectly perceive mine peers

O how my lovely rosemary remembers my loss

And my columbines do not forgive.

I seem to hath lost my violets,

And now all I am left with is rue.

I long to hath had more time with my dear father

We indeed did hath quite opposing opinions on many things

But I know he loved me so, And did not deserve his early departure

ABut alas, now he doth lie with the roots, Beneath the blossoms.

Perhaps my next song shall be dedicated to him. But, while I mourn mine father, I do not pity him. Indeed, such pity is reserved for Hamlet

And his wilted spirit

I should be angry at my lover for his harsh words His utter dismissal of me

I doth have every right.

Yet I can only pray God. And pray he ha’ mercy on Hamlet

Because while I may be defiled in virtue

The prince is defiled in soul

Now, I am left to ponder mine place in the world, And know not what to do.

I am much like a wispy dandelion, scattered about, Turbulent winds alter my course

My sanity struggles to stay grounded as gusts threaten to blow it away

But while I wish to let the breeze take me, I fear I must stay.

I fear it ‘tis imperative I provide my brother the comfort mine sweet flowers showed me, Water his rosemary and regrow more violets

Patient, patient,

As I pray my lover, my brother, my king, and my queen learn to plant new seeds of morality and conscience in soil so drained and barren.

Alas! There are too many birds chirping in mine head, I ought to go walk by the water to find some peace

Perhaps I’ll even hang garlands

To bring color back to this dreary place. Oh, when I do depart, I so hope someone leaves flowers upon my grave

ROLL THE TAPE BY WYATT BLAND - VIGNETTE

I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees, I love movies, especially with family and friends, short movies, long movies, comedy, action movies, and even those hidden gems A movie is a passageway into the life and shoes of something new. The movies are perfect. They have the power to transport the whole room to anything and anywhere. First I'm flying through the clouds in your F-14 and next I’m deep underwater exploring the deep unknown. The only movies I can't stand are the spooky scary movies that send chills down my spine The ones that make me keep the light on because I believe that the monster in the closet is really there Recently, I’m going to be re-exploring the land of the darkest movies around. This new one, which shall not be named for its name will haunt my WEB forever. While watching I was shaking just sitting in the theater, waiting for the next thunderstorm to jump out to get me. I am the pig in the straw house never knowing when the big bad wolf will blow my house down This movie is as unpredictable as the fly on my bedroom wall I never know what it’ll do next, what was that eerie noise? My brother William sits brave and silent waiting to take on the movie's next great trial. Will the creature jump out from the left, right, behind me? No, my dad tried to scare me before the movie could. After the movie I am petrified and scared to move, I make sure to check my corners extra carefully, but I realize the movie wasn’t too bad It was fun jumping and shouting with my family and friends, after every jump scare. Sitting through the roller coaster of emotions, waiting for the subsequent great plummet. I'll try it again.

ACRYLIC PAINTINGS BY ELLIE FLORIN

EYE OF THE HURRICANE BY LOGAN KREISBERG - VIGNETTE

On these kinds of nights, I am serene. Even when I notice dozens of other kids panicking around me, running up and down the theater, I feel tranquil When the light first hits my face, I am in my element. I can’t think about anything occurring outside the theater door, even if my life is crumbling to pieces. I am in the eye of the hurricane. It is peaceful here. Everything outside this tiny space is in turmoil. Yet all I can think about is

the entertainment I will soon be providing for an audience. Soon, the house lights will fade and the curtains will open. And everything is okay I am at peace

KIRK ORTEGA

STUDIO ART CLASS

LADIDI ABDULWAHAB

MITCHELL WINTERS

VIVIAN SHEN

SIENNA FLAGRIN

LUCIEN FRIED

RIJK SHUPE KARINA MEHTA

MY NAME BY HENRY SKLAR - VIGNETTE

In English my name is Henry. I don't know what it means in other languages ( except for German ). Google says my name means “Ruler Of The house”(my parents don't know that though ) . My name isn't special to my family, or so I think, but my middle name is. My middle name is Evan and my dad's grandpa was named Edward, so it comes from that. My name has some famous people that come with it, like King Henry the 3rd! I've heard he wasn't a great guy so forget about him, but there is also a famous soccer player named Henry, but I'm pretty sure his name is spelt differently and he’s French. A couple of minutes ago I asked why I was named Henry, and it's kind of a funny story. The second my mom and dad saw me they both said I looked like an old man, so they gave me an old man name Henry! I like old people though they have lots of character and have seen the world through all of its times, so I think my name has lots of character. I don't believe my name defines who I am though, you would know I'm Henry without the “Henry”. Now that being said I would not want to change my name, I like being an old man at heart.

MOON JELLIES AND HERMIT CRABS BY MAEVE LAZZARO - VIGNETTE

Don't touch it!

No, you can touch it.

Are you sure

Maybe use the shovel

The setting sun cast long dark shadows over the sanative sand

We all walked down the beach looking for the hidden treasures.

Buried beneath the crunchy ground lived a family of hermit crabs

There were many hermit crabs in the family, Cousins, uncles, aunts, moms, and dads

But tonight the cousins went out to play

I was getting my pj’s on when they asked me

‘Hey maeve do you wanna come hermit hunting with us?’

I slipped into my bathing suit and we ran out the door

Flashlights came out as the moon rose Salty air filled our noses and we dug and

Dug

And Dug

For those crabs

The beam of light swung around as we heard a familiar scream

Caity found a crab! The crab waddled along the sand picking up speed as Packie and Lily got closer to it

Waves crashed onto the beach bringing new life and joy with every ripple

Oh but that's not all, remember the moon jellies?

Pools are filled with water but not the type you drink and not the type animals like

The type we like

To swim in

So when one day we all came out to swim and a moon jelly was in the pool

Concerned eyes looked at Packie and Jack

Swept out of the pool by uncle Kevin peace was returned to the outer banks

Until the next crab crosses your feet or a new moon jelly appears in the pool.

CHARCOAL DRAWING BY

ISABELLA WANG

"GARY" SNAIL

SCULPTURE BY ROBERT MEJIA

July 17th, 2022 was the best day of my life. My day began with a crisp 8:30 wakeup I knew there was no school because it was summer and I could do whatever I wanted. For breakfast I had cereal. Not such an interesting breakfast but it set me up for my amazing day. Sadly a few months before this day a family member had passed away on my mother's side In his will he said that all of his cars would go to my mother. I never met my grandfather so I didn't know how to feel about his death. All I knew was that he loved cars. So did I. I bet if I ever had a one on one conversation with him I would be able to speak endlessly about different types of cars Cars with engines so big that the hood needs to be cut out. Cars so luxurious that the carpets have fur on them. Cars so loud that you have to cover your ears when they drive by. My grandfather had a 2016 blue Corvette. This car is now ours On July 17th, 2022 when the car was finally done being serviced my dad and I went to pick it up. We arrived at the dealership. The car was stunning. The lights on the ceiling reflect off the blue paint making me squint when looking at it. Both my dad and I get in the car. I noticed the manual 8 speed transmission and I immediately knew that my grandfather had amazing taste in cars. My dad starts the engine. One second, two seconds then BOOM the engine fires up. It shakes the car, and from experience it feels like it shakes the whole building My dad's expression on his face is pure enjoyment and so is mine. He pressed a button unveiling the whole world that I forgot existed after I entered this car. We go into reverse and enter the road. First into second, second into third

The world flies by me as the wind goes through my hair. We get on the highway and all I can do the whole ride is smile because this is one of the best moments of my life. Sitting in this car, hearing the engine roar, and maybe driving a bit faster than the speed limit with the top down. I truly was in bliss.

We find ourselves getting off the highway and entering a parking lot that I have seen before in the past. And then it hits me. In the corner of my eye I see it. Jersey Mike's Subs. I walk in and am immediately hit with the smell of different meats. I know what I'm going to order because I order it every time I come here A Philly cheese steak without the peppers I don't like peppers that much. I wait five minutes and then “ding...order 15 please come to the counter.” There it is. My sandwich, in a brown paper bag. I can already taste it. My dad and I sit outside. He says he's on a diet so he cant have any Oh well, more for me As soon as the sandwich hits my mouth I'm taken into another galaxy. The cheese meat and onions each slicing at my taste buds like nothing before. I take my time eating it and enjoy every bite until the last bite.

Listen, some may think I'm over exaggerating, but they don't call Jersey Mikes the best sandwich place around for nothing Once I'm finished with this amazing sandwich we drive back home, in the corvette, with the top down, reliving the same enjoyment I had 45 minutes ago. We drive into the garage with the engine echoing off the walls. One second, two seconds then silent The engine turns off and we each go into the house Waiting for me in the house was my grandma. I'm smothered by kisses as soon as she sees me. We catch up. I talked to her for a long time. There had been a pair of shoes that I had had my eyes on for a while. The ones that I have now were just too small My feet felt like they were going to burst out of the shoe like an atomic bomb at any second. The shoes were as dark as the night sky. Pitch black in fact. Three lines streamed from each end of the shoes. And like any grandma, she offered to get them for me.

I say no at first but in my mind I most definitely say yes Eventually the repeated asking to buy these shoes for me gets to my mind and I'm too tired to argue with her any longer. She buys me the shoes. I'm happy and she's happy for me. This is how the day ends. Not just any day though, the Best Day Ever

IN THE GREENEST DARKNESS, I HEAR WHISPERED BY ALEXA WILLIAMS - POEM

We are many and we are one We live beneath the earth till it comes undone

The dead among us you feast upon But wait little one, your time will come when you are beneath us we shall rise

In your flesh we shall creep to suck out every last drop of meat

Behind your eyes we shall flourish and take all that will nourish

Bones are our home as we bring you down so we may rise and create and breathe andWe climb, we rhyme, we take your traits as we digest

We are many and you are few, yet your hands choke our brothers and tear at our sisters

Marching feet in caterpillar train twist and shape and crunch and mash and-

We grow many and you grow few A cycle as broken as our hearts

Twist in your screws and weld your steel, But we will see this cycle through

Till it breaks as your world starts to quake When all is said and all is done

Your world will be the desolation we rebirth

Renew the cycle, renew the light, renew all of you

You will not see it and you should cry your thanks

For we have seen our fall as you never shall

We are patient and we are kind, we shall gorge and rule when you are sound asleep on the earth we have softened and tended the green beds left where we could hide them from your long sullied eyes

We will tend to the remains of you, always the servant's duty

For we will save you, take you, make you a thing of beauty

We are many and we are one Join us and let the pain be undone

Why must mine father and brother have such a tight hold on me? They insist on treating me like a child, And yet they do not know mine childhood is mostly lost

I have not had the guidance of mine mother for many years Only ever looked up to men. No woman figure to admire, And shape mine life after. Often, as I lie before I rest, I wonder how life could have been With mine mother by mine side

Would she have kept me tied down with her words? Or would she let me flourish?

Her once being a young girl, she would surely understand. Understand what it’s like to have these thorns in mine side.

So although mine brother and father

Come at me with nothing but love in their hearts, They do not know What it is like to be a young woman, Enchanted by love.

These men know not of the conflict a woman faces A girl is told to think not of men, not till marriage. A girl must stay pure to flourish And if she does it not, Then who will want her?

But one does want me. Hamlet.

Good sweet Hamlet, he thinks of me not like mine father and Laertes. When Hamlet beholds me, He sees not the delicate Rose that most see Nay, he sees me as a woman. One who needs love and care, But not viewed as a mirror that might get cracked if not treated like a babe.

But how, how can they believe me to go through life, Nodding to every word they utter? Nodding, but withering at the loss of mine love Unable to blossom. Do I not deserve a say?

No.

No, Ophelia does not get a say She must sit and nod

Smile and look pretty.

That is what women are told they must do, Told by men.

But, I believe that mine mother, If she were by mine side, would encourage me to follow mine heart And that is what I intend to do.