Contributors Editor-in-chief Sarah Nieman
Co-editors Alex Phillips, Whitney Justesen
Graphic Design Chloe Scheffe
Features Tascha Elliott, Jacqueline Luo, Meagan, Whitney Justesen, Mary Robinson, Chloe Scheffe, Rachel Sonvico, John Troxel
Contributing Photographers Jodie Andrews, Caiti Borruso, Sarah Brayton, Millie Carter, Bianca Elize, Natalie Harding, Annie Khuu, Lauren Marek, Amy Mortimer, Annette Pehrsson, Alexis Smith, Chloe Wojewoda, Lena Wright
Contributing writers Hailey Bussey, Ashley Cook, Meagan Jaskela
Feel free to contact us! We’re always looking for more photographers, designers, artists, etcetera. Email all submissions and questions to racingminds@yahoo.com. Writing – fiction, poetry, etc – will also be taken and gladly accepted. Someone will get back to you within two weeks, so always expect a reply. Thank you!
Dear readers, In a world of changing things, it’s hard to pinpoint the things that stay the same. Our friends change as we change. Our preferences change. The world changes, whether we like it or not. Some things are for the worst. Some things are for the better. One thing that has changed that I hope is for the better is this magazine. As this is only the third issue of the magazine, I am still finding the right stride, the right style for what I want this magazine to be. I hope I’m getting somewhere, and I hope you agree. Also, I would like to welcome some new members to the official racing minds staff: Alexandra Phillips, Whitney justesen, and Chloe scheffe. Alex and Whitney have helped me immensely with the editing of the magazine, whether they think so or not, and I have asked Chloe to be the graphic designer to help me, above all, design the covers of the magazine. Another thank you goes out to Chloe Wojewoda, who is brutally honest about the magazine when I ask her for her opinion, but she is so very helpful. I hope having someone besides me in charge will make this magazine so much better! So I hope you all like these brand new changes and, besides that, I hope you like this new issue. Enjoy! Xx Sarah
Photo contest! Submit your photos for a chance to be featured in racing minds magazine! The best photos will be chosen for every theme. This month’s theme: red head! Any photos of red heads can be submitted. Show off that fiery red hair in a beautiful photograph. As long as it fits this theme and is not in any way inappropriate, your photo will be considered for a feature in the next issue. There will be more than one judge, so the decision will not be biased. Good luck!
millie carter
Contents Pg 8 – Mary Robinson Interview Photographer Pg 22 – Chloe Scheffe Feature Graphic Designer Pg 30 – Jackie Luo Interview Photographer Pg 44 – Whitney Justesen Feature Photographer Pg 54 – Playlist
Pg 56 – Tascha Elliott Interview Fashion Designer Pg 64 – Meagan Feature Photographer Pg 76 – John Troxel Interview Photographer Pg 88 – Rachel Sonvico Feature Photographer Pg 100 – How Maple Fell Fiction by Meagan Jaskela Pg 108 - Spotlights Photographs And Poems
Mary Robinson My name is Mary Robinson. I'm 16 and I'm from Atlanta, Georgia. Right now I'm following an independent study program and it suits me the best out of all of the different types of schooling I've done (I've been to public school, private school, and I've been home-schooled) I'm a junior in high school and I plan on going to art school to major in photography. My grandfathers on both sides of my family were dentists and both of my parents are dentists. I asked Isabel (the girl in most of my pictures) what my hobbies are and she said taking pictures, spending all of my money, and playing wii. That's about all you need to know!
Why and when did you start photography? I started taking pictures of my friends and sister a little less than a year ago. I started out with disposable cameras, then bought a Polaroid camera, and then I started using my mom's old canon ae-1. I think I started because I saw all of these amazing photographers online and I wanted to be like them. Last summer was really boring and we had nothing better to do than walk around and take pictures Do you think your photography has taken on a specific style? No, not at all. I personally don’t think I have my own style but I do use the same camera and the same film so that does make my pictures have the same feel most of the time What do you want people to feel when they see your images? I think everyone has a different reaction to looking at someone else's photos. I don't care what they feel as long as they feel something.
Where do you hope to find yourself in 10 years? 20? Right now I want to be a fashion photographer but that might change as I get older. I don't care what I'm doing in the future as long as I'm happy doing it. Who is your greatest inspiration, photography or otherwise? I'm inspired by other photographers (especially kids my age) online. They always have the best ideas for shoots and I can't help but to be inspired by their photos. How would you define photography? Photography is seeing the world through someone else's eyes. What would you consider to be your most successful photograph? I personally think my most successful pictures are those of my sister because I think she photographs purely and honestly which that's my main goal in photographing people. Why is photography important to you? I love taking pictures! It's the only form of art I’ve really connected with. I feel like it's going to be a big part of my life forever. I can't see myself not taking pictures regularly. I know you have said that you use film, but have you ever had a preference for digital photography? What do you like the most about film? The least? I honestly don't know how to work my digital camera! I've tried to figure it out before but it's too difficult for me. I just understand film better. I like film because it takes such little effort to make a nice-looking picture. You don't have to edit film or do anything to it. Yeah, it costs more than digital but it's worth it. How much do you think your photography – and you – has evolved since you started? I've been taking pictures for a little less than a year now but I'd say I'm a lot happier than I used to be. I love having something I'm so passionate about to work on every day. Mary’s Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mryrbnsn/
Chloe Scheffe Hello there. My name is Chloe Scheffe, and I'm a 19 year old girl living in Seattle. Actually, I live about 45 minutes south, in Tacoma, but nobody has heard of it and it doesn’t have a Space Needle. I go to school on Capital Hill and study graphic design, which I fell in love with my junior year of high school. My glasses are real.
How did you find an interest in graphic design? I attended an arts-based public school--Tacoma School of the Arts--from 10th to 12th grade. When I was accepted, I was strongly interested in fine art (pencil drawing in particular) and spent more than a year improving my understanding and ability. As a junior, I decided to take a design class. Initially, it was extremely foreign. We talked about some of the same art fundamentals, like composition and color, but the purpose of the exercises were completely different. Design is about speaking to an audience; fine art is about exploring oneself. After taking two semesters of design I knew I loved it, and decided I would continue to pursue design in college, eventually making it my career. And so, here I am, one month away from graduating. Victory! What do you love so much about graphic design? The notion that you can make anything. Literally, you can sit down at your computer and put together anything that you can imagine. How much do you think your designs have evolved since you started? The change in my work has been substantial. I remember when I was reviewing colleges as I was graduating from high school. I saw pieces of design work from students that were minimal and adhered very strictly to geometric principles, and I knew that was my design aesthetic. Since then, I've kind of let myself go. I work a lot more with illustration these days, basing my designs off of what inspires me within the content instead of a predetermined idea of what good design looks like. I try to change my technique in some small way each time I approach a new project. Basically, I have more fun. Chloe’s Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/chlschef/
Jacqueline Luo My name is Jacqueline luo- Jackie for short- and I was born in Houston, Texas. I’m fifteen years old and a freshman in high school right now, and I’m passionate about fashion, literature, music, philosophy, math, and a lot more things that would probably bore you. I’ve been dancing for ten years now, and I play piano and guzheng, which is this ancient Chinese instrument that I took up a few years ago. My favorite singer is Michael Jackson; I’ve loved him since I was a toddler and I think he's just brilliant and an inspiration. I collect vinyls and I love volunteering- I work regularly at m.d. Anderson cancer center. I also write, and I’ve won the scholastic gold award for writing.
When did you start photography? It’s been maybe a year? But I haven't been happy with my pictures until a month or two ago, when everything started just working. How did you originally get into photography? I’ve always been a bit inclined towards it, since I was a little kidthe photography in fashion editorials inspired me especially, and when I got my first flickr, I would post pictures I’d taken of my friends, or around the house- all completely unprofessional, but probably integral to my growth as a photographer. But I got my dslr after one of my friends did, because it helped me realize that it was something I could maybe try on a more professional level, not just with point-and-shoot digital cameras. Who are some of your inspirations? My inspirations include Tim Walker, Steven Meisel, Craig McDean, Camilla Akrans, Richard Avedon, and other teen photographers like Nirrimi Hakanson, Rockie Nolan, and my friend. Where do you hope to go with your photography? I want my photography to be less commercial and more artistic- I want to be able to take photographs that are gorgeous and meaningful and true. Ideally, it would be lovely if I could end up in fashion photography, shooting editorials for nylon, vogue, numero, etc., but I don't think that's realistic, and currently, all I’m pursuing is images of youth and infinity that will make people feel. But I don't think I’m there yet!
Do you have a favorite concept to portray in a photograph? Yes- youth, freedom, independence, summer, and depth are my favorite concepts to portray, because photographs that make me feel young or remind me of endless summers are the most beautiful to me right now. Why is photography important to you? How does it draw you in? It’s challenging and it's beautiful- it allows me to interpret different things in life in interesting ways and capture them. And it's also important to me because it makes ordinary things beautiful. It puts things into perspective. it draws me in because the images created are so new and fresh, and I always want to push myself further to get closer to the picture I envision. If you could have any superpower, what would it be and why? The ability to read and influence minds. I don't want to say control, because that just sounds so bad! And I would want to because then I would know peoples' honest opinions and thoughts. It would probably be horrible for my selfesteem, but still, I’m curious.
Which is your favorite photograph that you’ve taken? Oh, I don't know- the most recent set I shot was exciting, because it came out more or less how I wanted it to, so probably one from there. www.flickr.com/photos/aznsophisticat/4536098125/ www.flickr.com/photos/aznsophisticat/4536094233/ www.flickr.com/photos/aznsophisticat/4536087241/ www.flickr.com/photos/aznsophisticat/4536042271/ or maybe this one, in film: www.flickr.com/photos/aznsophisticat/4464221046/ I don't think I could really decide, though! What would you like to achieve in the future? Success? Doesn’t everyone? But for me, success means so many things- it could mean that I’m rich and famous, but what's more likely to happen is that I’ll be happy and at peace and not what I wanted to become, but okay with it. I really do want that. my dream has always been to graduate from Yale, become a lawyer, and keep on writing, photographing, and dressing well, but I don't know if that'll actually happen. The one thing I’m most afraid of is regretting what I did and didn't do when I was young. I want to be recognized for what I’ve done and who I am, but if I’m not, I want to be happy with myself. How much do you think your photography – and you – has evolved since you started? Oh my god, it's been unbelievable. My photography started out terribly, even by my own admission, but I think by repeating experiments over and over again and learning more about how to use my camera and lens to their advantage, it's improved a lot. I’ve moved a far way from where I was, definitely, but I’m still never satisfied, so hopefully I can keep getting better! What do you think has been your greatest achievement, in photography or in life? I’m not sure... winning a national award for my writing? I don't know what would be considered a great achievement, to be honest. Jackie’s Flickr: www.flickr.com/photos/aznsophisticat/
whitney Justesen My name is Whitney Justesen and I'm a 19-yearold from northern California. In the fall, I'm going into my sophomore year at a university in Idaho, majoring in the Fine Arts with my emphasis in photography. I have a lot of hobbies, from drawing to singing to writing to dancing to acting and to, of course, photography. I love God and Starbucks hot chocolate, and my favorite thing to do is find pretty places where I can be alone and think about anything and everything. You will learn more about me by looking at my work than by talking to me alone, because I try to put all of myself into my photography. Whitney’s Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/whitneyjustesen
Playlist I’m Only Sleeping -The Beatles The Wolves (Act I and II) -Bon Iver Away In Silence -Creed At The Hop -Devendra Banhart Song for lovers -The Do Careful -Guster A Dustland Fairytale -The Killers Failure -Laura Marling Two Headed Boy -Neutral Milk Hotel Lauren marek
5 Years Time -Noah and the Whale Eet -Regina Spektor Undo -Rush of Fools Giving In -Saltillo Seashell -Seabear Breathe Me -Sia Konstantine -Something Corporate Casimir Pulaski Day -Sufjan Stevens Our Eyes -Teddy Geiger Bonfire -Third Eye Blind Afterschool America -Why?
Natascha Elliott My name is Natascha Elliott and I am 17 years old. I live between in Oxford mostly, and London too sometimes. My favourite hobbies are art, textiles/ fashion designing, photography, and I am a MAJOR shopaholic. I also like reading and writing, when I get time. I have a large collection of Vogue magazines. I’m studying A-levels at the moment in Art, Textiles, Maths and History. And I've lived in Cambodia and Singapore when I was younger.
How did you get interested in fashion designing? Well ever since I was really young I've been drawing figures and coming up with different outfits for them. I used to make paper dolls with little outfits with tabs on and I had folders full of them, all little outfits that I'd designed. I have known since I was about 11 or 12 that that was what I wanted to do as a career. Lately, in the past few years I've got even more into it, designing and making my own dresses. I've worn two of my own dresses to proms. What is the process you go through when designing something? Well it varies. If I'm making something for school for a particular theme, I'll have to do research and observational drawings/paintings, and look at various artists or designers for inspiration. If I'm just designing something for me, I'll usually do a whole bunch of sketches (I've got quite a lot of old filled up sketch books with designs in) and then do a final design, which is what I hope whatever it is I'm making to turn out like. Do you have specific designers that you look up to? If so, who? Not really, I mean I just go through my Vogue magazines or books about contemporary fashion designers, for example, for my current project I looked at four designers initially, but I am concentrating on one main influence, Richard Nicholl, who I hadn't really heard of before I did my research for this garment. Describe your fashion. My fashion. As in, what I think of fashion or the clothes I make or?
Well, I've made everything from a plastic skirt to a duct-tape dress, summery dresses, skirts, evening dresses, I'm currently making a wire constructed skirt made from plastic, netting, and silk, and a corset to go with it. I've also made various bags, purses, and accessories. As far as what fashion means to me, it is in my life every day. I live, think and breathe fashion. Where do you see yourself with this in the future? I definitely want it to be my future. I want to go to art college, and then do a degree in fashion design. And I've pretty much had that planned out for a few years. If I can get into one, I want to go to one of the fashion/art colleges in London, because I love that city. Do you think you are disadvantaged as a designer because of your young age? No. Because I'd still have to have started somewhere even if I was older. To be honest, I think being young gives me somewhat of an advantage. I know there are so many young successful designers around now, but I think this could be an advantage. I'm very optimistic about where I can go with fashion :) What piece of yours are you most proud of? I think it would have to be a dress I made last summer. It's all black, with layers of silk and chiffon, and then the bust is cream silk. It has a big sash at the back and is utterly gorgeous. It's quite simple actually, but I'm so proud of it because I made it completely from scratch, and it turned out so well.
What are you tips to young people out there who are just starting with designing/fashion? My tips to anyone out there just starting with designing and fashion is think outside the box. Sure, pretty much anyone can pick out pretty clothes, but designing what is already there will not get you places. You need to follow general trends, but also come up with new ideas. Do you think where you are live makes a difference in your designs/what you wear? How? Yes, I do think so. Living where I live I get both urban and countryside, and both make a difference to me. I have mainstream shops a bus ride away and weird and wonderful charity shops close by too. I love going round vintage shops in London too, getting inspiration and finding wonderful finds :) I definitely do think the people around you also influence what you wear and the ideas I come up with for designs. What would be your dream project? Oooh. Designing a couture dress for some fantasy party or fashion shoot I think. Or designing for some famous person who I really admired. Tascha’s Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/taschaelliott/
Meagan My name is Meagan, I'm 17 years of age living in Minneapolis, Minnesota and I really love photography. I like thinking about things inside out and backwards, and I like seeing things in the way they weren't meant to be seen. I like to make things interesting, because living in the same place gets boring. I hate reading, I love to write, and sometimes I think I want to be an actress, just to pretend to be someone else. I also really like nature and birds, stuff like that. Meagan’s Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/thereisanowl/
John Troxel My name is John Troxel, I am 16 years old....I live in Chicago. I was born in New Jersey, but lived in Philadelphia until I moved to Chicago in 8th grade. I enjoy everything to Do with art...drawing, painting, graphic design, ceramics, photography, fashion, and music. I play piano, and my favourite composer is Chopin.
How did you get into photography? And what sort of influence does fashion have on your photography? My move from Philadelphia to Chicago really sparked my interest in photography. My family had been given a digital camera as a moving present, and I immediately found myself constantly using it. Not only had the new toy helped, but also to new environment and lack of friends. Not saying that I was socially inept, but that I spent a lot of time by myself taking photographs. Also my lovely cousin Beatrice, a talented singer and musician, introduced me to Flickr. She dabbled in photography, and she really gave me the push to get into the field. It has quickly evolved from there; I bought my own digital camera, then started to acquire specialty cameras...such as my Holga, Fisheye, Diana F+, brownie box, dualflex, Polaroid, and Pentax SLR. Though I primarily photographed nature, still lifes, and landscapes from the start...my interest in photographing people was always there, looming in the background. I don't know when the exact transition was, but it must not have been memorable. I started photographing more and more friends and family members, and suddenly found myself being recruited by magazines & such to photograph clothing. I think that being able to photograph people well, is a big part of photographing fashion. Fashion has a huge influence on my photography, mainly being the fact that it is primarily what I photograph....but also that it has changed my mindset in a way. A lot of times when I am talking to people, or meeting someone for the first time, I will picture what I would put them in to photograph them, the location, the clothing. I have learned SO much about the industry, and have a lot of respect for the top fashion icons and designers. It’s a tough industry.
In your opinion, what does it take to become a fashion photographer? To be honest, I am not sure what it takes. But it seems to me that a lot of fashion photography is about displaying the product and make a pleasing image also. In other words, we (fashion photographers) chose the thinnest girls, the hottest guys, to model clothing that we are photographing. So a lot of the industry is about who you know, your "connections" if you will. You also definitely need to be able to get out of your comfort zone, and be able to work under pressure. I had a shoot once were I literally had only 2 hours of daylight to shoot, another shoot it was raining...but we kept shooting, in the rain. You need to be able to make executive decisions on the spot, and really...you try not to let you personal feelings get in the way...you need to choose what is best for the outcome. I think that fashion photographers need to know a bit about the fashion industry, and when I say "a little bit" I mean they should know a lot. It's important to stay informed with the industry that holds half of your job position title. For me, the love of fashion AND photography, along with the people aspect really is what led me to this route. It is a lot of effort, and takes a lot of time...there is stress, and I don't know how to explain the feeling at night when you know you have $1,500 worth of jewelry or clothing just a few yards away from you. But really, if someone asked me "How do I become a fashion photographer" I would say that first off, familiarize yourself with the industry. And get comfortable photographing people, and interacting with people behind the camera. And of course, be patient. It takes time, so it's good to start off with fun shoot with friends, experimenting!
What are some of the biggest challenges you've faced while pursuing your career in fashion photography? The number one challenge is probably not what most people would think of. Many people would guess that my age is quite a roadblock, but to be honest...I have encountered problems only a few times with age. Many people are encouraging, and really, really like to help me build my portfolio and kick-start my career! The biggest challenge is probably myself. I constantly find myself needing to get out of my comfort zone! For many things! I can become timid about asking people to model, or about meeting new models...I like to stay in my comfort zone during shoots, and don't like to stray from it. A lot of times I limit myself, and either get ahead...or fall behind. But I have worked on a lot of this, and really I think it is important to just be confident, and try new things. What’s your main focus when doing a shoot? When I go into a shoot, I am hardly ever focused. So many variables go into my shoots, that I find myself nervous a lot of times. I use all natural light, so I worry about lighting, and if shooting in the evening...if I will run out! I try to remember "pre-planned" photos... but usually I just let the model do what they want and it just flows. I leave my planning behind. My main focus OF the shoot is different depending on the assignment. If I am shooting an editorial featuring a designers clothing, then I will try to focus on how to effectively display the photographs. I probably have my own distinct style when it comes to that, because I tend to focus on portions of the garments, attention to detail.
Which is your favorite shoot to date? (And why) I have no favorite shoot, they all have been so important in building my portfolio, and building me as a photographer. Yes, some of them have failed...and some have gone over extremely well, but I enjoy all of my shoots. I really can not choose one that is my favorite. What equipment/software do you use? When I am shooting I usually use a Nikon DSLR, with a variety of lenses. I sometimes will use film cameras, SLR or just medium format point and shoots. I really don't use anything else in terms of equipment during the shoot. Occasionally I will use an extra monolight or strobe if I run out of light, or an off-camera flash...but I primarily rely on natural light to do the job. I get thrifty with mirrors and reflectors to help, but other than that...I just use natural light! In terms of editing programs, I use Photoshop CS4. It's a breeze, I don't do too much editing, but Photoshop makes everything simple....so I just do it all in there. I really don't use too much equipment, because making photographs isn't really about all the gear you use...it is about the subject of your photograph.
I know that you have done more than just photography when it comes to the I know that you have done more than just photography when it comes to the fashion world. For instance, you are the editor-inchief of INK Magazine, correct? Tell us about that. How did you found the magazine and what has it been like since? Yes, I’m editor in chief of INK Magazine. It is...probably one of the most enjoyable and fantastic experiences I’ve had and am still having, and at the same time it's a roadblock. I love almost everything about the job, except the pressure and responsibilities are innumerable. Being 16 and an editor in chief of a fashion & photography magazine don't usually pair synonymously...but in my case, they do! I started//founded INK Magazine about a year ago... I basically posted on my blog one day: "I want to start a magazine". Within the day Aaliyeh Asfar (a very talented artist, also a teen) shot me an email asking about what I was thinking for the magazine, I told her...and she pulled Mike Bailey-Gates into it as well. So the three of us started to brainstorm and start contacting people. It was a really exciting time! We had some set backs, and unfortunately Mike & Aaliyeh no longer work at INK...but we're all on good terms. They continue to produce fantastic work and I’m proud to know them. Since issue 3 we've really taken off! INK's getting bigger and bigger, and it's a bit overwhelming!
As well as INK, me and one of my best friends Tori McBride are really loving test shoots. We're a team.Tori makes a lot of the clothing for our shoots, as well as styles basically all of my shoots. There are big things coming for us very soon, so we're very excited about that! I love dabbling in other mediums and elements of this industry, so we'll see what the future holds! What is one goal you have when it comes to fashion photography? A big thing for me is keeping my work//shoots personal. I always want my shoots to stay small and personal. Meaning, I want it to be me and my camera. Truckloads of lighting, and un-needed equipment don't interest me. I can't really explain why, but I like being able to know that I had a bit of a play in the image...manipulating natural light and such. With all the equipment these days, I wonder if our perception of what good shooting conditions is. I'm happy with the light we have, sometimes it can be frustrating....but it's a challenge! So to answer your question...I just want to keep having fun! John’s Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/thereisabeein mypunch/
Rachel Sonvico name: my real name is spelt rachel sonvico but on flickr i go by raychel sonveeco. age: 15 location: virginia hobbies: besides photography, riding my bike, sometimes i write, i also like making collages with various magazine cut outs. type of camera: nikonD60 random facts: i used to want to become an actress and took acting class for about three years and had an agent and everything but then decided to quit. my favorite icecream is starbucks java chip. my foot is tiny! i can wear a 3 in kids and i can still fit into a pair of shoes that are a size 2. Rachel’s Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/raychel_shiztas tic_photography/
How maple fell By Meagan
My name is Maple, not like the tree, like the person, me. I suppose you want to know how old I am, and how my eyes are like melting glaciers and that my hair is like a scorched wheat field, and if you cut my arm off you'd find that there are seventeen rings, for each of the years I've lived. I'm not writing this for you, for her, or him, not even them, I don't even know if I'm writing this for myself. I guess I'm writing this for someone, actually probably anyone. I'm not even sure what this book, if it even turns out to be a book, is about. It'll probably end up being about me, as it is narrated by me, Maple Taylor. That seems self-centered and narcissistic, but I don't mind. I have things to say, things to be heard, and I'm not afraid to say them. My name is Maple Isabelle Taylor, I'm seventeen years old, and I have an eating disorder; that's not even the start of it. December 10th, a Thursday at 8:45 give or take a few minutes I tried to kill myself, by cutting my wrist one last time. I spent 22 days in a mental hospital, commonly known as the psych ward. Now, I bet, no, I know that you want to know how I got this way. I know you do, and I'm smiling right now writing this, not because it's funny, but because most of you who are reading this, think I'm crazy. I'm not crazy, though at times I do feel crazy, I am not. So let's start at the beginning, shall we? It was fifth grade, we were going on a field trip, the fifth grade field trip that I'd been waiting for since 3rd grade; the winter ski trip. I was ten years old then. I have always been the adventurous outdoorsy type of person, and this new thing, that I had never done before, excited me greatly. My teacher handed out the slips to fill out for the ski rentals, your name, age, height, and - weight. I remember another girl handing her slip in before I did, I glanced it on the teacher's desk, her weight said 89 pounds. She was tall and pretty, and thin, though she was mean and not many people liked her, she was pretty, so it didn't matter. I went home and took the scale off the top cabinet shelf, stood on it and watch the bar go up, 102. I panicked. This was the first time, I realized weight. I remember crying about it, stepping on the scale, then off, then on again, then off again. I wrote down 98 pounds on the sheet, and the next morning when I put it in the pile I carefully slipped it underneath the pile and hid under my clothes. Never again would I see myself the same.
So here I am now, seventeen; seven years later and nothing has changed, except for the fact that I've only managed to get worse. I developed depression, eating disorders, and self harm; none I am proud of, not that I could help any of them. I fell deep, and no one, not one person saw me fall, only me. I was like the only tree in an entire prairie, a vast prairie and I fell - alone. It wasn't until they were ready to burn that prairie down that they noticed this half dead fallen tree. (It's only fair I make tree comparisons due to my name.) Reality. I'm really suppose to be writing my "Drug Research Paper" right now, the one that's late already, the one that if I don't turn in I will not graduate. I'd like to write it, but well I don't really know why I'm not; and that is the truth. I don't know why I do a lot of things, or don't do. My mind is wandering, as it does all the time and I'm only thinking about how it's only Tuesday and six days ago I stood out in front of the school, crying on the phone to my Mom, about just how broken we all really are. She doesn't see it that way, no one does, I only do, and that's what people say is wrong with me. Nothings wrong with me, I'm perfectly fine; that's what I always say, and then I laugh, because it is a joke. Then I think about all the numbers, the calories, zero today, less than zero because you burn calories throughout the day, so negative zero calories today! That makes me smile, then frown because I know what that means. I'm entering the "fun house" again. You know, the "fun house" they're supposed to be "fun" but then you get in there, and there are too many mirrors, and scary things, and then you get lost, eventually you give up, find a corner and cry, because you're so lost and the only thing you see, is you, because you're surrounded by mirrors and turning tunnels and scary clown faces. Everyone, always wants to go into the fun house at fairs and stuff, yea, a lot can go in and out like nothing, then there are the ones who get stuck, I'm one of those who got stuck but got out after a year, but now the temptation is too rich not to go back in, I want the adventure again. That terrifying adventure. It's different this time, because I know the way out this time, I know all the tricks this house plays, I know all the games. I handed the man my ticket, and he pushed me inside, but he didn't need to push me, surely, I would have walked in on
my own. The Fun House. I bought the tickets, and pondered the thought of wish rides I would go on. I sat drunkenly sad on the roller-coaster, unphased by the ups and downs, went on the bumper cars, I didn't mind my neck being spun on my head, I stood alone in the midst of fair goers, lost, drunk, dizzy, with my feet planted lightly, so lightly I believe I could have floated away, that's what it felt like, it felt like I was floating. I stood facing the "Fun House", it was dark outside and the brightly lit smile of the clown welcomed my solemn body. The air was red and blue, with carnival lights, my eyes danced from each one, flashing, and spinning, I felt dizzy. I was wearing my favorite shorts, olive green with the pockets hanging out the bottom. They looked nice against my tan skin, they'd look nicer if I could shed these extra ten to fifteen pounds. The thought of my thighs made my heart heavy and my stomach drop to my ankles. You're supposed to look your best when you go into the "Fun House", so then you can hear how much you actually look like shit. So I chose my loose pink tank top, it buttoned half way down the shirt, and it hung loosely over my skin, tucked into my shorts. I didn't look amazing, but I didn't look bad. The dark pink tones brought out the tan in my skin, and it was a nice contrast against my boring undyed blonde hair. My hair was longer since the last time I was in the "fun house", the ragged strands hung like a weeping willow's branches, protecting my past, my mistakes from the judgmental eyes of fair goers. I remained with my feet in the dirt, standing, staring ahead of me, my fate; the "fun house". My eyes were heavy and my stomach was tight and in pain, I gripped the strap of my bag that hung even at my waist, I clenched my jaw, and took one step forward. I moved forward, at a steady pace, watching small children run in and out of the "fun house", I watched teenage girls with boyfriends at their hands, walk in and coming tumbling and laughing out. Then you see the other ones, the ones that won't coming running out with gay smiles across their faces, the ones that stand in front of entrance heavy in their steps and eyes, they hand the man their ticket, and never come back out. I saw one girl go in ahead of me, I knew that she wasn't one that was going to make it out. I saw her back when I
was standing, watching the "fun house", she was watching it too, with sad dark brown eyes, and dark brown hair, maybe even black. She was small, she was wearing skinny jeans with rips in the knees and a red striped shirt, when she walked in she looked back and our eyes met, I looked away quickly and she turned slowly toward the entrance, and with a small shove from the ticket man, she entered the fun house, and I could tell, she'd been here before. I stopped again, the ticket man smiled and waved at me, and I looked down, reached in my bag and grabbed my ticket and held it tight, in my hands. I let two young glee filled children run in before me, a girl and a boy, they must have been siblings, both brown haired with the same eyes and nose. I smiled, they were cute. I looked behind me, to where I once stood, nothing but my footprints remained and soon those too would disappear. I stood waiting for my mind to make up a decision, the bright lights wanted me to step forward, but my footprints wanted me back. I let one more girl go in ahead, she was bigger, but not bad. She'd never been here before, I could see the defeat in her eyes, but she held no fear, like the girl before her, this girl handed the man her ticket, steeped in the door and shut it behind her with a smile of anger on her face. The ticket man looked at me again, he smiled and waved and I looked back behind me quickly, "oh miss, are you coming or not?" his voice was enticing, in a manner of sarcasm and pure a friendly nature, almost saying "come, you could belong to something." "Belong" not as in, be "owned" but be a "part of" and that was a great deal of enticement. I bit my nails and nodded with my eyes and he smiled. I didn't smile back, I bit my nails harder. I took a step forward again, my feet didn't leave the ground, and just as I was about to step up the first step, I saw one girl, a skinny sad sickly looking girl stumble out, her eyes like she hadn't seen light in so long, she looked at me, her eyes wide and blinking rapidly, she was thin, tall and her hair long and brown, she stood staring at me, as I did to her. Then she turned away towards the rest of the world and walked, I watched her walk away. Her arms were crossed at first, scared and insecure with the world, then she picked up her pace, her arms at her side now she ran, she ran and ran and ran, her bare feet against the dusty ground, she looked back once, her eyes teary and she stopped looked at me, wiped her eyes, turned away and continued running. She was so afraid, so sad, yet so determined, she was
leaving this place behind. I noticed on her arm, two red lines, for each time she'd been there, that was her second time, this was my second time, I had a red line, one, permanently engraved on the inside of my shoulder blade, and I would have one more, above the first one, I looked forward, the man turned his grimace to a smile as soon as my head turned to him, he reached out his hand "ticket please" I looked to my hand that held the ticket, I swallowed, handed him the ticket and with a firm shove, I entered the fun house. Reality. There is ten minutes left of class, 2:20, I'm in psychology, we're watching "The Secret Window" you know the one where Jonny Depp plays the role of a man who basically goes nuts. I hate writing in class, people are so nosy, and I couldn't stand them to find out. Bailey who sits behind me, to the right, I'm sure she'd just love it if she found out, I know once we get out of here she'll question me, and I'll take it, as I always do. The bell rang, 2:30. I folded up my notebook and held it tight against my chest and walked out of the room. Right as I turned into the hallway Bailey grabbed my shoulder and smiled, "what were you writing?" she smiled, I rolled my eyes and turned to her, "nothing" I smiled a laughed. "You're so weird" she laughed and walked away. That was her favorite line to say to me "you're so weird" - I always laughed at it. At least I'm not normal, like her, she walks through the hallways and her face is as monotone as a white wall. I turned around, clenched my fist and punched the air, oh how I wished it was her face. I clipped my backpack straps so I could walk home without it sliding off the smooth texture of my rain coat. I pushed through the crowds of everyone standing in every inconvenient place possible, and walked through the door that was already open from someone who had just walked through it. The wind was cold and it was raining hard. I flipped up my hood and started walking home. I watched as my "friends" drove past me, as I walked soaking wet along this mini stream of a sidewalk. It angered me how, they just didn't care. I laughed. I never really minded the walk to and from school, it was only ten minutes and it gave me time to think and talk aloud to myself. My clothes were soaked and I felt like I was submerged in a river, walking upstream against the wind, I wish I could
continue walking, forever. I didn't want to go home, to that house, that empty empty house. I turned onto my street and thought about how hungry I really was. My stomach was tight and my head was light and heavy all at once. I thought of all the food I would have to face once I walked through those doors, everything would be fine until I opened that door and had to walk through the kitchen; hell. You're only going to run 3 miles at the most for track, you can do that on zero calories, you don't have to eat for three miles. I stopped, opened the gait with my hands curled up in my jacket, I walked up the stairs and onto the deck, I loved the smell of the deck when it rained, cedar. I paused to open the door, you can do this, just go straight to your room. I opened the door, the handle was wet even under the overhang, I stepped inside, dropped my backpack by the dogs food dishes and walked cautiously past the fridge and pantry cupboard. I opened the office door, my mom was on the computer, and my two dogs were curled up next to the desk. Flik lifted his head and stretched with his but up in the air, he walked toward me wiggling his butt, I smiled patted him on the head "Hey Flik." George was under the desk, I could hear his tail thumping against the wood, he was lazy, but I knew he was happy that I was home. "Where's my kitten?" I asked my Mom, she didn't look away from the computer, I think she was doing taxes. "Somewhere around here." I frowned "ok." I walked up the stairs to my room, I thought he may be there, since he likes to sleep on my old jacket. Flik followed me to my room, his body pressed against mine, I pat his head again, he wiggled in joy. Not to my surprise, there he was curled into a small ball in the middle of the fur part of the jacket. Flik ran up to him and nudged him with his nose, Flik and Sparrow were truly best friends, even though Flik is a dog and Sparrow is an eight week old kitten. I thought it was cute. Sparrow yawned and looked up to me with his groggy now green eyes. "Hey Sparrow." I picked him up and held him close to my chest, he dug his head into the crook of my arm and fell asleep again. I smiled, I loved holding Sparrow when he slept. I walked down the hall way and went to go sit on the couch, I laid down and placed Sparrow on my stomach, he stood up, dizzy and groggy in his movement. I knew he wanted to curl up under my shirt, he always loves that, so I lifted up the bottom of my shirt and he crawled in and placed his head next to my ribs and purred. I
loved the feeling of his soft baby fur against my skin, how it felt when he purred, I could have fallen asleep, but I needed to go to track in fifteen minutes. Flik placed himself next to me, sitting with his panting mouth directly on my face. I laid staring at the ceiling, my stomach so tight, in so much pain, but I was winning, today I would win. I glanced over to the clock, 3:15, I slipped Sparrow out from my shirt and walked to my room, took my clothes off and put my track clothes on, it was cold and raining and windy out, so I dug the heaping messy pile of clothes on the floor and pulled out a long sleeved shirt, the only long sleeved shirt I have. I pulled it over my head, threw some shorts on and my black straight legged running pants. I liked my running pants, they made my legs look long and thin. I stepped into my running shoes, grabbed the keys for the car and ran out the door. The rain had not let up at all and the wind shield was plagued with raindrops and the wind-shield wipers only made it worse, I rolled my eyes, the wipers needed to be replaced. I loved track, it was the only place I was confident, were I felt relatively appreciated. I ran in, peered my head into the athletic trainer’s office "Hey Anna!" I said joyfully, she smiled "Hey Maple! How are you?" I walked in, "I’m good, just going to track!" she smiled "have fun!" I smiled, "thanks! I will!" and I ran out down the hallway and out to the track. I looked for my friends, Holly, Erin, Ally and Derek. "Hey Holly." I put my hand on her shoulder and she turned to me with a smile "oh hey Maple!" I sat down next to Holly and Ally. Erin looked at me with her smirk grin "how's it goin?" Erin was funny, she was real and her humor was raw and way too funny. "I'd be a whole hell of a lot better if it wasn't raining wolves and cougars!" Derek laughed, I looked at him with a smirk on my face "ha ha Derek, you like the rain!?" I loved to mess with Derek, he was sort of an awkward boy, but he was nice. "No, I just liked your choice of words." I placed my hand on his back, "Derek, it's ok, I was only joking." He smiled and laughed, he could never understand when someone was joking. "Guys I'm really sick of this rain!" Ally said with a sigh and her shoulders slumped over, yet her voice was high pitched and perky, as always. Just as I was about to answer her with some witty statement, my coach hollered out "two laps, let’s go!" and with that we all rose and ran two brisk laps around the track in the pouring rain. I pretty much lived for track, it was all I had. There
were three groups in track the “hot shit sprinters” the “throwers” and then the “distance runners.” The distance runners were basically all the “losers” in one big group, but not really, that’s just how all the sprinters saw it, we laughed. Our coaches were pushing us to all be a “family” this year, ha ha, that’s only separated us more, and everything is a competition with everyone. The sprinters always said we discluded ourselves from the “family” when really, they never tried to be part of ours, but we didn’t care, and really, they didn’t either. The throwers, well, they throw, so, they were just chill and did what they did. As much as I loved track it always gave me a sense of unease, the growing disappointment in myself, that I could never be good enough, and that, my coaches; the people I cared so much about, were losing their faith in me. I remember back in the fall, back when I was good, when I’d run with my head so dizzy that I felt like; if I walked down the stairs I’d fall right through the concrete. I remember walking into school the first day of my senior year, (fuck) and my coach telling me with a proud smile on his face of how I looked like I lost weight, but now almost six months later, I’m pudgy as the year before. I can feel my stomach jostling under my shirt, it is just not ok. We’re running six miles today, good, enough to fix my mistakes of previous days. It was me, Holly, Ally, and Derek that always ran together; our feet were always on the same beat, although that’s completely unavoidable. We would laugh and talk, and make fun of people who stared in cars. I was always the one to start something; I was the outgoing one, the loud one, the funny one that kept a smile on every ones face. Talking about how girls where pants too tight and their stomach hangs out, (that was funny), how much we all hated Kassie and all the sprinters. Coming back from our runs, I always felt alive, happy and fully rejuvenated, except for the fact my head was spinning and I felt sick to my stomach, but that was ok. We got back to the school, we secretly wanted to beat each other to the door, even though we never said it, it was true. I grabbed the handle first and yanked open the door, Ally and I walked to the drinking fountain, drank the water that tasted like rusted metal wiped our faces and admired the water that had trickled onto our shirts. My head was absolutely spinning; I blinked, blinked again and kept my eyes shut, oh how the world spun. We walked out to the football field, it was sunny and
windy, the sprinters were standing on the track talking and laughing; me and Holly sat on the turf and stretched. My head spun even more as I sat down, I laid down, and my head spun more, the whole earth rotated beneath me. “Are you ok?” Brian, a sophomore, whom I didn’t even know stood above me, I gave him a thumbs up and smiled with my eyes closed. I sat up, I spun more, I felt like I would vomit. I sighed a loud sigh; Holly was talking to our coach. My coaches didn’t care about me anymore, I was no good anymore. I laid back down, all my blood rushed to my head and I felt like death. Ally stood above me now, “what are you doing Maple?” I looked up at her; my eyes were heavy, “stretching my abs, ya know.” I said jokingly over the fact that I felt like absolute shit. She sat next to me and stared out; I looked up to the sky and concentrated on breathing through the spinning world. House. He’s yelling at me, I’m sitting here and he’s yelling at me. He will never understand the world I face. He laughed, "those people don't care about you, it's just a little game they play, if you disappeared they would never take notice." I laughed, crying, because of how wrong he was. "fine, think what you want to." I choked out through my tears. Truth was, they cared more about me than anyone I knew, I had to laugh at him, from the fact of how utterly wrong he was! When I was gone in the hospital, no one, not one person texted me asking where I was, no one stopped by my house to see where I was, no one even asked my sister where I was. So I had to laugh at him, people here, the people here don't care about me! But I couldn't be completely mad at him, I just blame it on his ignorance, for he is a very ignorant man. I knew the people who cared, I knew, and well none of them sit in the desk of my school. That's ok, I'm almost done, I'm a senior and there are 3 fucking long weeks left of school. He's still yelling at me, I don't exactly know what he's saying, since I just don't listen to him anymore. He is most likely talking about how much they've done for me, took me to soccer (forgetting about all the times they forgot to pick me up), bought me all the things I need, did this and that. He says that every time and even my therapist told him that means nothing, well it does because it is nice to do, but none of that matters right
now. Then I heard him say "all we've done is love you" with that my body tightened, all the oceans in the world right then rushed to fill my body, I shook my head, trying not to say "yeah fucking right." I held my words back, I took his words, I was numb to them now, I didn't care, no that is a lie, I did, I cared and I held them with me and they sat in my stomach like rotting carcasses of baby dears. "I know your little games" he smirked, I didn't look at him, I knew he was smirking by the tone of his voice almost like he was laughing at me. I smiled. "Ok" he wanted more, he wanted that reaction, fuck if I'd give that satisfaction to him. "I don't know what you want." I smiled again, just to match his, "I don't know what you want." I said calmly, "I know what you want." I laughed silently, "You just said you didn't know what I wanted!" he paused, I could tell he knew he what he did there, but being him he denied it "I know what you want." I smiled again at his idiocy. "Ok then, what do I want?" he was silent, "you tell me?" he threw back at me, I laughed, I knew what I wanted, but he didn't. "No, you say you know what I want, tell me." My body tightened, I wanted to rip his throat out and scream to him what I really wanted, "don't turn this around on me." I chuckled, "no Dad, don't turn this around on me, you say you know what I want, so you tell me." I was crying, "you want us to leave you alone." I laughed and cried all at once, "nope" I responded meekly. "Yes that could be, but I'm pretty sure that a universal want of a seventeen year old." I was crying, I did not look at him, I hated looking at him, I hated seeing his ignorance. "Well then, what do you want!?" he laughed, I shook my head and laughed. "See you don't even know." he laughed, "no, I know, I just don't want to tell you." I cried, I cried. I wanted them to understand, to love me, to tell me it's ok, I wanted them to leave me alone, I wanted him to think before he spoke, I wanted to leave, I wanted to fix this family, I wanted a new family, I wanted here "I love you" so much that it made me sick to my stomach to hear the words, thats what I wanted. I would never tell them though, I never wanted to hurt them like that, and plus, they'd deny everything; like they always do. I opened my mouth to say something, "You don't know! this is just your game." I cried more, game, this is not a game! this is my life, my and life is not a game. "I do know." I said calmly under my tears. "I do know." - "then why don't you say!" I wanted to pound my head through the wall. I
took a breath. "I want a different family, instead of this stupid one." I said, it wasn't a lie, but that was just the one that came out first. He laughed. "well that's too bad because it's not going to happen." "yep." my voice shook and my eyes hurt. "We've gone crazy trying to figure out how to work with you!" - "I guess you'll have to go crazier then." I sighed, why didn't I just walk away, why didn't I just get up and leave, even though he'd just follow me and continue his useless fight. "see it's your game, you want us to go crazy!" I shook my head, "no, I don't have a game, I have a life, and I don't want you to go crazy." I clenched my hands tightly shut. "I don't know why you're like this Maple, we've done everything we possibly could for you!" I stood up, "because I have issues!" I cried and pushed past him, "what issues! tell me these issues." he spoke sarcastically, like it was a joke, he was the joke. I ran up to my room, past my mom who was sitting on the stairs listening, of course she wouldn't do anything to help me, but why would I even think that she would? I pushed open my door and slammed it shut, I didn't care if it broke even more, I didn't. Flik was already on my bed and I buried my face in his soft brown coat, and I cried. Flik though, he never really was the cuddly sort of dog, so he squirmed and got off and laid on the floor, I hugged the bear my aunt had given to me when I broke my arm in fourth grade, and looked out the window, it was dark, the stupid tungsten street lights glowed and the light rays danced through the air. I opened my window and pushed out the screen, it fell against the roof I as I was about to crawl out I saw the shadow of the porch door open, my Dad stood out, looked up at my window and laughed. I threw my clock at him, then my phone (stupidly) and then the screen of my window, I didn't care, he was an idiot, idiots get things thrown at them. I sat in the darkness of my room, alone. My head spinning in pain from the amount of salt water pouring out of them. I cried. My door opened, my dad pushed through it, I crawled out my window, and in his sarcastic tone, "oh that not smart" he laughed, "I'm not smart." I hugged my knees to my chest, the porch roof was steep and not very good for lounging on. "come off there right now." he said, "no, go away." I cried. "Well I guess I'll have to call the police then." I rolled my eyes, "fine, I don't care, show the whole neighborhood what a fuck up family we are." I
stared out straight across the road, focusing my eyes on the tree branches then the house across the street. "do you need to go back to the hospital." I smiled, "sure, it's better than being here. now go away please." I said calmly and my voice shook. He pulled his head back out of the window, "fine." I sighed, I hated my life like this. I sat on the roof, quietly, only with my puffy cheeks, and the cold air. My mom then came and stuck her head out, she talked, I didn't want to. I was sick of talking, sick of wasting my breath. I told her things how I felt, and she would rationally tell me that I was wrong, successfully making me feel more insane. My mom was really good at pretending to care, she was only like this, this as is talking to me calmly and trying to make me feel better when I was on the verge of killing myself, I found it incredibly stupid. I sat on the roof until I couldn't feel my feet anymore, my knees ached from bending them so close to me. It was midnight when my mom left, I remained on the roof, I didn't want to go back in. The air was quiet, and I played with the rays of light beaming off of the street lights. I looked over far to the right, Sparrow's little head peered out and he meowed, he stepped out and crawled cautiously over to me and crawled into my lap purring. He was only eight weeks but he was already so perfect, and had felt the dampness of my tears too much. I sighed and thought about everything, how easily I could fall - die. How nothing will ever change. Sparrow looked up to me and meowed, I sighed, "ok we'll go in." I stood up, my knees ached, I clung to the edge of the house, the roof was steep. I crawled through the window, the heat from the house warmed my skin and I laid down on the cool mattress sheet.
natalie harding
annette pehrsson
annie khuu
untitled love me like the sun loves the moon an affair so passionate no one can turn away even mother nature blushes from sin they dance through the sky and through time love me like that, love me like no other -Hailey Bussey
Amy Mortimer
sarah brayton
lena wright
alexis smith
Bianca Elize
caiti borruso
Jodie Andrews
chloe wojewoda
It 4/6/10 It's like a Taylor Swift song, stuck on minor and sad all the time. It's like the lingering coffee stain on the cup, cold, stiff, and dirty. It's like the cell phone that waits and waits for texts that never come. It's like the room that was once clean and is now full of crap. It's like a swear word that sticks out like an elephant once it's spoken. It's like a book, a story that's too long and feels like it will never end. It's like the sun that rises to shine but then sets as soon as cold comes. It's that feeling that still lingers, based all on an idea that will never fade. -Ashley Cook
Lena Wright