SIR Magazine Issue 14 Spring 19'

ISSUE 14 SPRING 2019

RESPECT THE MOMENT

SIR MAGAZINE

S I R M A GA Z I N E

ISSUE 14

S I R M A GA Z I N E ISSUE 14 SPRING 19

DIREC TORS

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Directors and team members responsible for content and creation of Issue 14.

PERHAPS ANA MEIR

I will name myself Dreamer. You see, I dream often.

In the night when I brush my teeth, in the day when I shift through the dryer to grab my laundry,

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EDITOR’S LETTER

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THE GALA ARTIST FEATURE Figures of the Past Christian D’Cruz A series illustrating characters prominent from the artist’s childhood that create feelings of nostalgia.

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A regal moment with a drama occurring between some characters. The emotions throughout this piece encompass the reality of life, where in a single moment there is so many feelings to experience.

30 THE PARADOX THAT HIDES IN THE HIDE OF THE ZEBRA JULIUS BUCKNER Action Bronson once said “Opportunity be knockin, you gotta let that muhfucka in…” but if you don’t ever open the door, does that opportunity ever exist?

EXTENSION This piece respects the architectural curves and lines within our spaces through reflections and extensions of structures that came to life in our past time.

44 IF SHE WILLS IT ANA MEIR

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Cross your legs don’t leave it wide for the world to see Go to the other room, you’re heart rate will get too fast hearing this Calm down Take deep breaths

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ANA MEIR

TEXTURES An exploration of different textures and patterns within a range of depth. From a mystical airness to a dramatic expression, the forms throughout show complementing interpretations.

Call me Stray.

I believe in the restless.

Constant movement.

EDITOR IN CHIEF BRANDON “B13” SPENCER @THERUFF.ARTIST

EBERE AGWUNCHA @EBERE_AGWUNCHA

DIRECTOR OF CASTING LYNETTE KWAW-MENSAH @LYNKWAW

GRAPHICS TEAM KIRA MANN @KIRAMANNDESIGN

Tuyen Le

EDITORIAL TEAM Ana Mier Julius Buckner

FASHION TEAM CRYSTAL DAVENPORT @CRISTALBALINA

JULIA PAGE @JJPAGE14

Macie Camenisch

MODELS

Cierra Dunn

Gabriela Ampuero

Tyanna Whitaker

Mekhi Bianchini

Destinee Palimore

Kyrene Carter

Julius Buckner

Salomina Duanah Mriga Kher

TREASURER

MicCah Mohorne

JULIA PAGE

Katie Sinn

@JJPAGE14

PHOTOGRAPHY TEAM CHRISTION BARNES @HOTSHOT_0497

Taylor Cummings Taylor Moore

Anna Grace Molinari Olivia Smith Simi Toluwalase Nadine Veasley Satoria Williams Rohan Willis Tim White

LETTER FROM THE EDITORS

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To the readers of this Issue, Life is nothing without the unforgettable moments that we collect along the way. There is no value in the individual experience without the memories that we can call our own, which is why we must understand the path that has brought us to where we stand today. Life moves so fast, we often miss the opportunity to honor it, wherever it may be. We envision this rush towards something completely unexpected, with the only notion to keep going and to never stop.

For our 14th issue, we wanted to create a rather special edition. Where we push the idea of honoring where we stand currently as students and young adults trying to figure out the game of life. Honoring these moments of confusion, pain, love, happiness and joy through the timelessness of black & white photography. We then showcase the beauty of life and the many experiences that come along with it.

This Issue portrays a reflection going back in time but also establishing our current place as SIR Magazine. We shine a light on the creative individuals within our diverse space to celebrate their work, and to also thank them for continuing to contribute to this amazing group. Along with a few fresh and experimental minds who helped us to push our concepts and ideas even further. If not for our dedicated Directors and team members who work diligently, none of this would have been possible.

We’ve touched the past, looked into the future, but ultimately we remain here in the present.

So let us Respect the Moment, for it is the only one we will get!

From the Directors.

BRANDON “B13” SPENCER Editor-in-Chief @theruff.artist

EBERE AGWUNCHA Editor-in-Chief @ebere_agwuncha

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Ana Meir

PERHAPS I will name myself Dreamer. You see, I dream often. In the night when I brush my teeth, in the day when I shift through the dryer to grab my laundry, in the morning when I blindly reach for my lenses.

Maybe I should call myself Star because it was the evening of the third weekend in June when I saw my first shooting star. I was eight and I exclaimed ‘There I go’ and my giggles sent billows through the night. Maybe I belong in the sky with the rest of the constellations.

Dame sounds like a respected name. I’d sashay through every hall.

My eyes floating above heads daintily. What if I was called Bird?

I could stretch my extremities and tuck in my heart while I swung with the wind to different posts. My future dependent on the angle of my optimism. No, I think I should be called Color because I can’t live without it. I speak in melted rivers of amber when I smile during spring and I whine in puffs of dulled silver when the winter sets my soul to meddling. Now that I think of it, maybe the best name for me is Fire. I lick the air and command oxygen to feed me. I demand the eyes and hypnotize. I craft my movement. I have something to say. Hear everything I have to say. Or do I have anything to say?

What’s that? Everything has already been said? I don’t believe you

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THE GALA

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BART

Christian D’Cruz

FIGURES OF THE PAST

PI K A C H U

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RO NA L D

Christian D’Cruz

FIGURES OF THE PAST

TELETUB

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Action Bronson once said “Opportunity be knockin, you gotta let that muhfucka in…” but if you don’t ever open the door, does that opportunity ever exist?

What if it begins to exist the very instant you open that door?

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In other words, an opportunity might be behind an open door, but is never behind a closed one, or even better: fate can’t choose us if we’re not in the lottery to be chosen in the first place, and maybe action, is our ticket in.

...STAND TO KNOW THE ..

CURRENT YOU’RE UNDER For example, people that try to cure cancers, rare diseases, and mortal wounds with prayer, tea bags, and unsaturated fatalism often find themselves falling victim to the morbidly disturbing situations they were trying to avoid.

One might ask, where was their god then, when they needed them most?

On the other side of the coin, however, there are tons of miraculous stories of people that did go to the hospital despite their bleak futures and were, what would seem to be, divinely chosen to live decades beyond their prognoses, and survive mortal wounds they medically shouldn’t have.

So maybe trying and crossing our fingers is what turns the keys to this mechanism, and we have to meet fate in the middle somewhere ...but where is this middle ground, and how much control do we really have?

Is life more dictated by fate than free will, or vice versa?

Are zebras black with white stripes, or white with black ones?

What if, on the hide of a zebra, both are true at the same exact time? We may perceive the two patterns in a sequence, such as seeing it first as black with white, and then as white with black (or vice versa), but never as both in the same instant.

Sometimes destiny seems to have determined the conditions and environments in which we exercise our free will, and sometimes the choices we’ve made with our free will seem to have determined what destinies are available to us, and the environments in which they operate in as well. It may be hard to find where one ends and the next one begins, because neither of them actually do either; they both operate simultaneously and continuously, even though we may perceive them as separate phenomenon that follow a logical sequence of cause and effect.

Consequently, the ideas of fate and free will themselves are easy to digest separately, but become cognitively constipating when trying to understand them together as a whole. Through humble reflection and years of hindsight, however, we can begin to parse through where the two forces have left marks on our lives.

We can remember the ones that got away, the ones we were supposed to meet all along and never let go of, or that time you definitely, definitely should have died but for one reason or another did not.

With reflection comes understanding, appreciation, new love found in the old, and the slow realization that we may live life forwards, but understand life backwards, and that while you’re in it all you can do is respect the moment.

...UNDERSTAND TO KNOW THE CURRENT

Julius Buckner

THE PARADOX THAT HIDES IN THE HIDE OF THE ZEBRA

Objectively, however, they were both existing on its fur at the same exact time regardless of the order we perceived it in, and what if free will and destiny behave the same way?

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EXTENSION

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Cross your legs don’t leave it wide for the world to see

C RO S S YO U R L E G S D L E AV E I T W I D E F O R WO R L D T O S E E G O T O O T H E R RO O M , YO U H E A R T R AT E W I L L T O O FA S T H E A R I N THIS CALM DOWN T D E E P B R E AT H S D O SPEAK, LET HIM DO TA L K I N G D O N ’ T D O T YO U ’ R E B E G G I N G F AT T E N T I O N T O O S YO U S H O U L D S TA N OUT MORE QUIT NO I T O N LY G E T S H A R D F RO M H E R E YO U C A C RY T O O M U C H , YO L O O K W E A K YO U C A L O O K S T O N E FA C E YO U ’ L L L O O K H E A R T YO U C A N ’ T W E A R T D R E S S YO U S H O U L D W E A R T H AT PA N T S Go to the other room, you’re heart rate will get too fast hearing this Calm down Take deep breaths Don’t speak, let him do the talking Don’t do that, you’re begging for attention Too shy, you should stand out more Quit now, it only gets harder from here You can’t cry too much, you’ll look weak You can’t look stone faced you’ll look heartless You can’t wear that dress You shouldn’t wear that pantsuit

You can’t tell them when you’re on your period You’re PMSing You can’t come in You shouldn’t go out now, you’re the perfect victim You can’t defend yourself You can’t speak up, they’ll shame you We can’t hear you, talk louder You shouldn’t have said that Why didn’t you say something You can’t be that here are the majors you should be looking at

Ana Meir

IF SHE WILLS IT

DON’T R THE TO THE OU’RE L GET ING TA K E ON’T O THE O T H AT, G FOR S H Y, AND NO W, RDER CAN’ T OU’LL CAN’ T CED RTLESS T H AT LDN’T TSUIT Allow me to be clear. I will speak up when I am spoken to. I will speak up when I want to be heard. I will cast my eyes upon the stars and decipher the cosmos along with you. I will break the records and cut the lines with my body. I will wear the dress on Saturday, the pantsuit on Sunday.

I will stay up until I understand what I’m told I cannot. I will leap and jump and rejoice when I am happy.

I will rest and cry and narrow my brows when I am anything else. I will ask. I will answer. I will bless with my femininity because nothing like that should be compromised for the validity of narrative.

I will calculate and derive and multiply and divide myself in the ways I permit. I will craft and create, destroy what is my poison. I will shadow until I am born of my own skins to create a shadow for the next one.

I will stare directly and the moon and gaze at the rays of the sun since she warns me of my limitations.

And then I surpass them because I will Do what I can and I Can what I Will !!

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TEXTURES

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Ana Meir

HELLO

Special Thanks to the Greenlee School of Journalism and Iowa State Student Government for the funding of this issue.