IMPRESSIONS 2022
Impressions 2022
Cover Art Photographed by Ning L. Designed by Kevin Chen
Message from the Editors It is our honor as the editors of Impressions to share our appreciation for the students that have devoted their time to literature and the arts. Art is one of the first fundamental human creations, and throughout history it has evolved into a downpour of designs that have shaped our society. We are deeply grateful to our artists and writers for having the courage to share their work. For our readers: you are the first to see newly published pieces from your talented peers. Please enjoy the best LCDS has to offer!
Editors: Keira Alhadeff Katherine Slacik Alfie Koenig Jack Jiang Kevin Chen Nile Abadir
Faculty Advisors: Donna Wilcox Brenna Stuart
Contents Literary Works 5 Emma Piljeck ‘23 & KiKi Carmenate ‘23 Jefferson Memorial 7 Kennedy Babyboy ‘23 Kennedy Babyboy 8-9 Tristan Muzzio ‘22 A Woodland Litany for survival 12 Sophia Barbar ‘25 The Months of the Year 13 Max Wiggins ‘24 Forever 15-18 Ben Armitage ‘22 Queen Elystra 20 Nastasia Philip‘25 Journey to the Standpipe 22 Alfie Koenig ‘24 Imitations of Lovers 23-24 Benjamin Armitage ‘22 Yearning 25-26 Mina Achorn ‘24 Riley, the Monster Under the Bed, and the Thing Outside 27-28 Kenndy Baryboy ‘23 I Dream a World 30 Woodbridge Advisory Please Read
Art and Photography 6 7 10 10, 31 10, 17 8, 11, 12, 19 9, 11 11 13 14, 19 14, 23, 31 14, 31 14 15, 21, 25 20, 25, 29 22 24 28 29 29 29
Emma P. ‘23 Micheal H. ‘24 Lilli K. ‘22 Milana B. ‘23 Luke Z. ‘22 Amelie B. ‘25 Ava B. ‘12 Chris H. ‘22 Laurel. M. ‘22 Margaret H. ‘24 Ruby N. ‘23 Sophia F. ‘25 Milana B. ‘23 Ning L. ‘22 Charlotte S. ‘25 Ryan A. ‘22 Sarah B. ‘22 William C. ‘24 Kiki C. ‘23 William B. ‘23 Natalie S. ‘25
Jefferson Memorial Emma Piljek ‘23 & Kiki Carmenate ‘23 Life is gray, no pure black or white,
Good and bad are a mix, our greatest accomplishments don’t make us great, And our worst actions don’t determine our fate, Good people do bad things,
And some bad people do good things,
The line between good and bad is as thin as strings,
Was Jefferson a good person? That’s a question no one could answer objectively, Before we judge others we must ask ourselves, “Are my actions reflecting me?”
When Thomas Jefferson drafted the Declaration of Independence and said: “We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal” Did it determine his virtue?
Were these truths really so self evident?
Were they evident when Jefferson bought and kept his slaves? It was evident when he spread this fight for freedom,
It was evident with his children when he fought to feed them,
Was it evident though when he wasn’t there to feed his other children? Sally Hemings,
Was she Jefferson’s slave or the mother of his children? Jefferson changed many people’s worlds,
When he created the declaration of independence he brought hope and pride to the people of the new United States,
He brought this idea of freedom and equality being a god given right to light in a time of darkness,
But does this idea mean anything when he doesn’t follow it? Now when we sit,
We establish that Jefferson did good things, We establish he did bad things,
But can we establish whether he’s a good person? The strings grow thinner,
The line between black and white is so blurred it makes us bitter.
First Place Black and White Sketches
Capital Area Classics Festival Area Classics Festival
Emma Pilijek ‘23
Kennedy Brayboy Kennedy Brayboy ‘23
I am from December of 2004
I am from an interracial marriage, June 12th 1967
I am not only from Lancaster but also beaches and seashells of the east coast
I am from laughing with my friends to answering the phone “J.B Dawson’s this is Kennedy” I am from Eagles games and my mom telling me to ‘just do the best that you can’
I am from real and optimistic parents that are preparing me for a life without them I am from a house with a maroon door and a white mailbox in a busy development
I am from Harry Potter, so many different kinds of music, the movie Halloween and the office I am from scholarships, financial aid and anxiety
I am from a stressed, confused, jumbled, funny and sometimes creative mind
I am from LCDS, a school that has given me so many opportunities like traveling to Scotland and Hawaii this March
I am from my acrylic nails and my crazy unruly curly hair that has a mind of its own
I am from gen z, the generation who never gets tired of hearing the “can you put your phone down and listen” but also the “keep your phone on you just in case” I am from from America but American doesn’t define me I am Kennedy Anne Brayboy
Micvael H. ‘24
A Woodland Litany for Survival Tristan Muzzio ‘22 in the style of Audre Lorde
For those of us who live in the woodlands
hopping upon the bushy edges of the forest timid and alone
for those of us who cannot ponder the passing winds of time
who love in burrows playing and digging in all hours between dawns peering into the thicket
living moment to moment
seeking a now that can breed futures
like hay in our children’s mouths so their ears will not detect the death of hares; For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
Amélie B. ‘25 Dreaming in the Rain Silver Scholastics , HM LCYA
like the dark marks in the roots of our whiskers learning to signal fear with our mighty thump for by this motion
the intrusion of some danger that’s been found the briery-fange hoped to devour us For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.
And when the sun rises we are afraid the hawks might swoop down
when the sun sets we are afraid the foxes might stalk the night
when we can’t find food we are afraid of starvation
when we find carrots we are afraid the farmer may be nearby
when we are away from shelter we are afraid we’ll get lost
when we are protected by thicket we are afraid we’ll get found
and when we squeak we are afraid our cries will not be heard nor welcomed
but when we are silent we are still afraid
So it is better to squeak remembering
we were never meant to survive.
Ava B. ‘22 Scout HM LCYA
Lilli K. ‘22 Rhinoceros Gold LCYA
Milana B. ‘23 Covid Way Scholastics HM & LCYA
Luke Z. ‘22
Chris H. ‘22 Life Underwater HM LCYA
Ava B. ‘12 Frankie Gold LCYA Amélie B. ‘25 Before Chocolate HM Scholastics
The Months of the Year Sophia Babar’25
For January, I collected and gifted the most spectacular of snowflakes. For February, an arrow of love was shot into August from the bow of Cupid. To March, I gave a clover, signifying the arrival of spring. I then gathered April’s tears and saved them to hydrate May. May then gratefully accepted April’s sorrow, blossoming in return. Afterwards, I accompanied the lonely June for her birthday. For July, I prepared a platter of watermelon, generously soothing his heat. August was caught under the spell of Cupid and fell madly in love with February. To September, I gave a collection of only the most valuable books, fulfilling her academic longing. For October, I knitted a brightly colored sweater keeping the shivering month warm. November accepted the replenishing meal made for her, and was thankful as ever. And lastly, December wandered out to find the other months to celebrate with them. I am December.
Amelie B. ‘25 Autumn Draining Away HM Scholastics
Forever Max Wiggins ‘24 What a day My feet feel ten times lighter as I climb the hill of olive green grass. The month of May never felt so serene The absence of soft ground hauls me out of my ever-wandering mind I’ve reached the top I find myself sitting with my back against a tree Staring out at a view that could be anything I desire Anything The clouds hold limitless forms in their wispy appearance I can only imagine the amount of grass blades coating the hill is close to numberless Whoever thought finite was fun So I sit Hoping that my daydream is infinite I absorb the possibilities of today Why wait for tomorrow The world is my oyster And I intend to cherish this oyster for as long as life allows The pleasure of this view brings energy Energy to fuel my wandering mind Sleep may no longer hold much value Darkness might calm some, but I yearn for the vibrance of color So I sit Hoping that the sun may never set on this world Hoping that my eyes will never close Hoping that I will never tire of this burning energy What a day
Laurel M. ‘22
Margaret H. ‘24 Country HM Scholastics LCYA
Milana B. ‘23 Yin and Yang Scholastics
Ruby N. ‘23
Sophia F. ‘25
Queen Elystra Ben Armitage ‘22
“Bye, mom!” I waved, looking down at my mom, standing next to the other parents at the bus stop, all waving to their kids. “Bye, Jeremy! Remember to be kind, sweetie!” she shouted back, waving in kind. The bus lurched, groaning under the weight of all of the rambunctious children goofing around. “And remember that your mama always loves you!” she included. “I will, mama!” I shouted back, now giggling. “Stick your head back in the window!” one of the older children, wearing a bright yellow sash, poked my shoulder. Reluctantly, I looked back at my mom, waved, and sat down in the chaos, and pulled out my book to read. Today was supposed to be my first day of fourth grade. We’d just moved from halfway across the country last march, ever since mom had gotten a promotion. From Seattle, one of the big cities in my home state of Washington, all the way to a small town on the outside of what Ning L. ‘22 mom called “Smellville”. Dad told me it was called Baltimore. I cried about it initially. I didn’t want to leave Derrick, or Phil, or Lucy, my babysitter. Phil and Derrick were so fun, we’d read books together and pretend to be heroes. I didn’t want to leave Lucy especially, since she let me eat pizza and gorge on marshmallows instead of forcing me to eat my greens like mom and dad did. Mom told me that she had to, though. The family needed the money, and aparently she was supposed to be working in the corporate office of her company. When I tried to go to dad about it, he said that it would probably get me more toys, so I agreed. It was a good idea to move. “Hey, whatcha reading?” The kid next to me poked me on the shoulder, trying to get a peek.
I tried to ignore it. “My mom said it was a good idea to be nice and kind to people, and I saw your mom said that too!” the kid poked my shoulder again. “My name is Kayla. What’s your name?” I looked up at her. Her hair was done back in a bun, and her whole body was bouncing up and down. Dad told me that people do that when they had too much sugar. “I’m Jeremy. Did you eat candy when you woke up?” I asked. “I did! How did you know?” “My dad told me that when people are bouncing up and down like that, then they’ve eaten too much sugar.” I told her. “Oh, cool! Let me see if I can sit still.” With a huff, the girl sat down on the edge of her seat, her backpack taking up most of the space, and crossed her arms dramatically. I quietly went back to reading. “Nope! Can’t do it. What are ya reading?” she poked my shoulder again. I tried to ignore it. “Hey, Jeremy, hey Jeremy, hey Jeremy, hey Jeremy, hey Jeremy, hey Jeremy-” Kayla continued to poke me on the shoulder, trying to lean over me to see what I was reading. Finally, I decided to turn to her. “What?” “Whatcha reading?”. I looked down at my book in shame, and tried to hide it. “Nuthin’ special.” I muttered. “Oh come on, lemme see!” she whined. “Pleeeeeease?” She gave me puppy dog eyes, and tilted her head, pouting. “I don’t wanna.” “Bus Guard! Jeremy won’t let me read his book!” Kayla shouted to the back of the bus. An older kid wearing a yellow sash, maybe in 6th grade, stood up and shouted back to her. “He can do that, Kayla! He doesn’t have to show you his book.” “Awwwww, okay…” she pouted, putting her head down. Kayla then immediately turned to me, and giggled. “Hey, can I see your book?”
I looked down in shame again, and muttered. “Fine, here. It’s a girly book anyways.” I handed her the book, The Tales of The Amazon Queen Elystra, and turned to rest my head on the bumpy bus window. “Oooooh, I love this book! My mom would read it to me during bedtime!” Kayla exclaimed, flipping the pages. “How far are you?” A couple of boys in the seat behind me heard Kayla say that, and looked over the seat. “Ooooooooh!” one of them cooed. “Kayla likes a booooy! Kayla likes a booooy!” Like a coordinated cult, a couple other boys that were there immediately started chanting. “Kayla likes a booooy! Kayla likes a booooy!”. However, that quickly Luke Z. ‘22 switched to “Kayla’s got cooties! Kayla’s got cooties!” “Hey guys! Stop!” Kayla yelled at them, but one of the boys just shouted louder. Finally, the bus driver heard, and, without even looking in the mirror, picked up a small radio by their wheel. “Quiet it down back there! And stop bullying Kayla!” Almost immediately, the chant stopped being yelled, but kids whispered it.“Kayla’s got cooties! Kayla’s got cooties!” However, one of the Bus Guards walked up to the front, and with a reluctant stare, most of the kids settled down, and went back to goofing off on their own. Kayla looked down at the book shamefully. “Sorry I pestered you so much” she grumbled, handing me back the book. “I like the book.”
I took it, and tried not to be awkward. I didn’t know what to say. “Ummm, I’m sorry those guys teased you earlier.” I muttered. “Mom always told me to stand up to people like that.” Kayla looked down at the book, now in my hands, and immediately started giggling again. “Oh? My mom says that too! She always told me that ‘Kayla, no matter what evil there is in the world, you can be strong and vanquish it with love!’ like what Queen Elystra always said! Then she’d strike a pose like this-” Kayla put one fist out, and one above her face. “-and she told me to ‘Punch Evil in the Face! Booyah!” “I always liked Princess Emiry better.” I mumbled. “She’s cooler.” “Oh my gosh! Princess Emiry is awesome!” Kayla giggled, as she started to bounce again. “It was mom who always loved Queen Elystra. She said that she was ‘A better role model’ but I don’t see the Queen with any secret shadow powers.” Kayla whispered that last part, like it was some sort of secret. “Though we have to keep it quiet, don’t want any of the evil people to know.” she quietly pointed to the back, where the boys were. “Yeah, they’re the bad evil guys.” I whispered. “Evil nasty bad guys.” “Yeah! And I’m gonna take em out, because Princess Emiry doesn’t let evil live in her kingdom!” she continued to whisper. “Yeah, and-” I started, but at that point, kids were starting to get out of their seats. Someone shoved Kayla’s backpack, and I felt the full force of a 4th grade girl’s head slamming into my face, and then the window. “Ow!” I grumbled. I looked out the window. We were at school. We were at Frederick Elementary School. “Sooo were friends now! Goodbye friend! See ya at lunch!” Kayla giggled again, and bounced her way into the crowd getting off the bus. As I got off the bus, my first feeling was that that was hauntingly similar to what Derrick, Phil and I would do as superheroes. I tried to ignore it.
Ruby N. ‘23 Disembodied Hand HM LCYA
Amelie B. ‘25 Dressed Up Nowhere to Go Silver Scholastics, Gold LCYA
Margaret H. ‘24 City HM LCYA
Journey to the Standpipe Nastasia Philip ‘25 Mami, Mami, it’s the middle of the night Nothing’s in sight Black is the only thing to see How am I supposed to get to the standpipe? “Follow the path,” she said Listen to the rhythm she says And so I listen too But what am I to do, ‘cause the path ain’t clear The more I listen, the more I hear Sounds like the buckets Swishing from side to side to side And so I walked two miles fulfilled my bucket with its water Walked my distance and some more So my children wouldn’t have to Still, I felt the rhythm The song my children will know And my folks will sing it Listen. Their wails are flooding With their wills and hunger-pangs Hear them?
Charlotte S. ‘25
Ning L. ‘22 Untitled 2 Gold LCYA
Ning L. ‘22 Untitled 3 Gold LCYA
Ning L. ‘22 Untitled 4 Gold LCYA
Imitations of lovers
Alfie Koenig
four. running my hand along the blue walls, staring into the auras of crystals and diamonds and everything i never knew. reaching out for one touch of perfect and then- “careful.” he smiled. “if we break it, we have to take it home.” four. running my fingers across the precisionist’s corners. staring into auras of crystal and diamond and all the things she already had. reaching out for one touch of perfect but- her eyes said it all. i didn’t deserve something quite that whole. fifteen. running the length of uneven stairways, dragging music from those creaking steps. the splinters in my palms tuck themselves into bed. and at night i’m cradling fragments of torn tapestries, deformed pottery i dug into the hillside to find. i’m cradling scorch marks and grape juice and everything i am allowed to love—and you. but the difference between “i am only to love what is broken” and “what i break is mine” isn’t very much. i think i’m dangerously close to something terrible. to something a bit like you. and i miss you but not enough to become you—not enough to become you again.
Ryan A. ‘22
Yearning Benjamin Armitage ‘22
Lucy K. Garret 8/1/99- 7/4/18 “Nothing Soothes an aching Heart like Your Words” R.I.P Her tombstone was small, certainly. She wanted it that way, in her will. Tucked off in her own little corner of heaven, all alone. So she wouldn’t hurt anyone
again. I began speaking to the grave. To the body I knew was there, 6 feet below. I felt a few tears coming from my left eye, and started to rush my words to keep from cracking. “I wanted to tell you some things before I leave for college again next week. So you better not interrupt me with any of your dumb puns, okay?” No response. “I wanted to talk about 3 weeks ago. Ya know, when you hugged me throughout that thunderstorm? I tried to hide it, but nothing gets past you. You’re a psychic, like that. It’s why I always checked the weather before asking to hang out. I just didn’t want to share that fact with anyone. I would run home, and bundle up in blankets while trying not to cry.” I felt my throat clogging up, and pulled out a tissue from my pocket to blow on it. “That night was the first time anyone truly cared for me like that. I didn’t know that you could help me like that, and I was scared you’d look at me like I was weird. But you never did. You smiled at me, and you calmed me down. I adored you for that. I cared for you in general. You meant everything to me that night.” At this point, tears were streaming down my face, and I wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. I wiped my tears away with the collar of my shirt, and talked through the tears. “So why wasn’t I good enough? Why didn’t I notice the scars? The pills in your room? Why couldn’t I help you? Why didn’t I share my feelings for you earlier? Why am I such a failure? I needed you. I’ve had you my whole life. And now I’ll never hear you again.
Sarah Biltz ‘22
Do you know what that means? I’ll never hear the person that I’ve cared for my whole life speak? Ever again? You abandoned me! You betrayed me! I thought you cared for yourself! That therapy was helping! So why wasn’t I good enough for you? Why wasn’t anyone?” No response, except for the birds chirping and the other faces that were still there, staring at me. I looked around the graveyard, and spotted Jeremy, the person who I thought would be my brother in law, standing there at the edge of the gate. He’d said his lines. He didn’t have any more to say. I looked back at the grave, and pulled a small letter out of my bag. “This is for you.” I looked at the grave, surrounded by flowers and the face I cared for so much. If anyone would have opened up the letter, they would have only read 3 lonely words. “I Love You”
Riley, The Monster Under the Bed, and The Thing Outside Mina Achorn ‘24 The night was dark, the wind was howling, and the moon had dipped behind the trees, covering the town of Belle De Luna in ominous shadows. Riley leaned against the wooden border of her bedroom window, a large blanket wrapped tightly around her small below average seven year old body. “Mum’s asleep by now.” She whispered. “I know.” The monster under the bed answered. “I think there’s something outside.” The monster spoke again in a calm tone. “Many things live outside.” Riley kept her eyes glued to whatever it was. “It isn’t a bunny,” She concluded, “or a deer.” “Then what is it?” The monster crawled out, as it so rarely did, and rested its silky frame next to Riley at the window. “Oh- oh my.” “You see it too?” She asked, the panic in her young voice growing, her cold feet gripped the carpeted floor. “It’s horrifying.” The monster watched with fearful interest as whatever the thing was swayed and staggered towards the second story window. “We should hide.” “Agreed, come on.” Riley grabbed the monster by one of its large furry grey
Ning L. ‘22 Untitled 1 Gold LCYA
paws and scurried with it back under the bed. “It won’t find us here.” The monster’s sharp yellow eyes were glued to the window. “Hopefully.” By now, whatever the thing was had almost completely blocked out what little light came through the window with its horrible shadow. “It’s getting closer.” Riley shook in terror, pulling the quilt over her eyes. “I can’t watch.” The monster whimpered. Then just as soon as the situation had started, it ended. The moon rose above the trees and whatever the thing was just disappeared. “Riley, Mr.Moon is back.” The monster whispered and gently pulled the blanket off the relieved seven year old’s head. “I can sleep now.” She grinned and crawled out from under the bed. After tucking herself in, she spoke one last time; “Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” The monster replied. Then everything was still.
Charlotte S. ‘25
I Dream A World Kennedy Brayboy I dream a world I dream a world I dream a world I dream a world I dream a world I dream a world I dream a world and garden I dream a world I dream a world I dream a world
were the earth is healed where they let kids be kids without the fear of walking outside at night alone with beautiful flowers and no commercials on the tv where my cats live forever I dream a world where my parents get their dream house with my purple wall with my friends and my days at J.B end of happiness and graduation ‘23 with you and me
I dream a world where I can be me Free Free from all the weight that holds down on me Where people of color aren’t left out Out Without a doubt, we are all the same, we don’t blame The hill we climb is done together, hand and hand with every strand We sew the wounded, battered red white and blue flag back together Together I dream a world together for all
I dream I dream i dream a world what does that mean? i dream a world so that you can sleep i dream a world while my eyes are awake i dream a world with no mistakes i dream a world where you can take a break running,skipping,laughing whatever your heart desires my love i dream that up above we will meet again someday i dream a world where i can stay but at last ; i dream a world so that you can sleep
i dream a world with just you and me two souls spiraling as one we dream a world together; how lucky could i be? we are free free to be just you and me although there is no guarantee we see the same, we dream the same we soon became the world we dreamt together as one, one together i dream a world for you and me i dream a world what does that mean? i dream a world so that you can sleep i dream a world while my eyes are awake i dream a world with no mistakes i dream a world where you can take a break running,skipping,laughing whatever your heart desires my love i dream that up above we will meet again someday i dream a world where i can stay but at last ; i dream a world so that you can sleep i dream a world with just you and me two souls spiraling as one we dream a world together; how lucky could i be? we are free free to be just you and me although there is no guarantee we see the same, we dream the same we soon became the world we dreamt together as one, one together i dream a world for you and me
William C. ‘24 Beach Sunset Silver Scholastics and LCYA
William B ‘23
Kiki C ‘23 Kiki C ‘23
Natalie S ‘25
Charlotte S ‘25
Please Read Why trust the heart? Without understanding, execution, creative expression, opinions, change, perspectives, The spark, and the balance of the world as it is We are limited We exist as Ghosts We are Lost By The Woodbridge Advisory
Ruby N. ‘23 Richard HM LCYA
Sophia F. ‘25
Milana B. ‘23 Daily Bread Scholastics & LCYA HM