mosaic The Publication of the Arts SPRING 2020 1500 Mark Thomas Drive | Monterey, CA 93940-5291 | 831.655.9300 | santacatalina.org
Student Editors
Katalina Villarreal ’20
Hailey Boe ’20 Faculty Advisor
Dr. Nancy Hunt
Staff Prose
Photography
Dylan Barry-Schoen ’21, section head
Anna Cole ’21,
Caroline Bulkley Armas ’20
section head
Heidi Hansch ’21
Sophia Lamarque ’21
Lauren Gebreamlak ’21
Ava Owens ’20 Sara Harley ’23
Poetry
Corinne Christian ’20, section head
Foreign Language
Jane Hoffman ’21
Rosemary Lee ’20,
Jasmine Flanders ’23
Isabelle Nagy ’22
Lucia Butler ’23
section head
Holly Liu ’22 Visual Arts
Joanna Lin ’20
Madeleine Nowak ’22, section head
Ashley Liu ’21 Dancing Water, Uma Sinha ’20
Amy Li ’21 Audrey Morrison ’20
Design & Production
Communications Office
Front Cover: Golden Skies on the Gate, Gracie Gaon ’21 Back Cover: Golden Gate Bridge, Amy Li ’21 All content © 2020 Santa Catalina School students as indicated.
6/2020-Digital
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City Scape, Nicole Oliver ’20
SPRING 2020
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Cave, Angelia Shi ’21
Table of Contents Art, Golden Skies on the Gate....................................Gracie Gaon ’21.....................................Front Cover Photograph, Sunflowers.............................................Melody Shen ’23....................................................4 Poem, I Live Here.......................................................Hailey Boe ’20........................................................5 Poem, Echoes............................................................Lauren Gebreamlak ’21..........................................6 Poem, Mailboxes........................................................Bailey Brewer ’20...................................................7 Poem, Crystal Ball......................................................Jacqueline Palshaw ’22..........................................8 Art, Shattering Ceilings...............................................Damiera Cruz ’20...................................................9 Prose, From the Sea We Came and There We Shall Return..............................Jasmine Flanders ’23...........................................11 Art, Drift......................................................................Emily Oh ’21........................................................13 Photograph, Green Eyed Lucy....................................Carolina Bulkley Armas ’20...................................14 Poem, Perspective.....................................................Joanna Lin ’20.....................................................15 Poem, Pink Window and Bike.....................................Anna Cole ’21......................................................20 Photograph, Satin......................................................Savannah Halvorson ’20......................................21 Prose, Boat with Sails Down.......................................Gracie Gaon ’21...................................................22 Art, An Uncertain Demand..........................................Kiska Corrigan ’22................................................23
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Prose, Mind Over Matter............................................Emily Oh ’21........................................................24 Art, She Can Be Anything...........................................Anna Gorman ’23.................................................25 Art, Green Sea............................................................Martya Estrada ’20...............................................26 Art, Advice from a Wanderer in the Endless Sea.........Katalina Villarreal ’20............................................27 Poem, Paths...............................................................Sarah Sallee ’21...................................................29 Prose, Getaway Car...................................................Caroline Bulkley Armas ’20...................................30 Art, Swan in Focus.....................................................Anna Cole ’21..................................................... 31 Art, Butterfly Kisses....................................................Corinne Christian ’20............................................32 Photograph, Purple Flower.........................................Maryta Estrada ’20...............................................33 Poem, We Live In a Bubble.........................................Marina Butler ’21..................................................34 Art, Corona Time........................................................Damiera Cruz ’20.................................................35 Photograph, La Novela de Senor Raton......................C.C. Shaw ’23.....................................................36 Art, Diamond Walkaway..............................................Cooper Clements ’20...........................................40 Photograph, Redemption...........................................India Gonzales ’20...............................................41 Art, Snow Covered...............................................................Angelia Shi ’21..............................................................42 Poem, The Awaited Season of Fall.............................Anonymous..........................................................43 Photograph, Sonnet...................................................Charlotte Juge ’23...............................................44 Art, In London Supermarket........................................Holly Liu ’22.........................................................45 Photograph, Finding Eden..........................................Emily Oh ’21........................................................46 Poem, Son of God......................................................Corinne Christian ’20............................................47 Art, Summer...............................................................Joanna Lin ’20.....................................................49 Art, Pink Skies............................................................Wendy Liu ’23......................................................51 Poem, Introspection...................................................Emily Oh ’21........................................................52 Art, A Bar On Midnight Street.....................................Katalina Villarreal ’20............................................53 Art, Mt. Sopris............................................................Anna Cole ’21......................................................54 Poem, Series of Shorts #3..........................................Corinne Christian ’20............................................55 Art, Civic Center Station.............................................Julia Bledsoe ’20..................................................56 Poem, Mushroom.......................................................Hailey Boe ’20......................................................57 Photograph, Hello Fall................................................Ingrid Yu ’21.........................................................58 Photograph, The Autumn Series.................................Adrienne Wood ’21..............................................59 Photograph, Snaps You’ll Never See..........................Corinne Christian ’20............................................60 Photograph, Spinning Heads......................................Audrey Avelino ’22...............................................62 Prose, Nights Like These............................................Emily Oh ’21........................................................63 Photograph, My House..............................................Caroline Bulkley Armas ’20...................................64 Photograph, Olive Green Door....................................Katalina Villarreal ’20............................................65 Photograph, Time Preservation...................................Holly Liu ’22.........................................................69 Photograph, Falling Leaves.........................................Uma Sinha ’20.....................................................70 Photograph, Oh, Fall...................................................Anonymous..........................................................71 Photograph, 4am Blues..............................................Damiera Cruz ’20.................................................72 Prose, Half Moon Bay.................................................Holly Liu ’22.........................................................73 Art, A Blessing for the Class of 2020..........................Dr. Nancy Hunt.....................................................74 Photograph, Between Two Places..............................Ms. Claire Lerner..................................................75 Prose, Reflections.......................................................Angelia Shi ’21.....................................................76 Photograph, Dancing Water.......................................Uma Sihna ’20.............................Inside Back Cover Photograph, Golden Gate Bridge...............................Amy Li ’21..............................................Back Cover
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Sunflowers, Melody Shen ’19
Acknowledgments Ms. Meg Bradley Mrs. Julie Lenherr Edson ’88 Sister Claire Sister Christine Mrs. Jaime Ball Ms. Crystal Boyd ’89 Ms. Katherine Busch Ms. Jeannie Evers Ms. Beth Jones Ms. Liesel Kuehl Ms. Claire Lerner Dr. John Murphy Ms. Sarah Paff Ms. Jen Rocha Mr. Fred White …and all the students of Santa Catalina who submitted their work.
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I Live Here Hailey Boe ’20
I live in a place where nature blooms year round, Where sunbeams move unhindered to heat crisp wind, Where grass whispers sweetness between fronds, Tangled in the sun, Rippling with joy as the wind softens their lithe forms. Where concrete glistens like jewels from stars, Dropped from the sky while it set. Where cool shade meets brisk grassy earth, And cherry blossoms fall from their perch, Way up high, and there is a wonderous blue in the sky, And clouds make their migration, slow… “It sure is a wonderful day.” I also live where buildings made of glass, And metal groan under heat, And let loose hot sighs, Where people live under schedules, Places to be, someone to be. Where backs ache, and eyes throb, And squint back up at the sky… “Yes, it is a beautiful day.”
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Echos Lauren Gebreamlak ’21
Wait! Turn around,
No, now I’m running,
Didn’t you hear that sound?
I am wheezing!
No? Okay,
I hear laughter behind me,
It was probably nothing anyway...
As if a child is playing, But is it a child?
Step one, two, step one, two,
Or a demon in the making?
step one-Under my feet I crunch the
I don’t pause to find out.
butternut leaves and pause,
Reaching for the door, I grab it
Footsteps echo behind me.
and shriek.
Who is there!?
There was a poisonous sting,
I turn and ask,
And I feel light headed.
But only a shadow dances past.
With trembling legs, I fumble as I walk, Maybe the door back-and-around
Now isn’t the time for fun
won’t be locked?
and games… The hills are getting darker,
But as I turn the corner,
It seems like a fog is about to rain.
And take my final steps,
I could have sworn that I heard
I see I wasn’t the winner.
something!
Mister shadow beat me to it,
Alright… just keep breathing.
So I now become his echoed dinner.
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Mailboxes, Bailey Brewer ’20
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8 mosaic Crystal Ball, Jacqueline Palshaw ’22
Shattering Ceilings Damiera Cruz ’20
The alarm flashed 5:00 am; Delilah rolled over and threw her arm over her eyes. She contemplated going back to sleep, but her practical side told her it was best to start the day. Begrudgingly, she awoke. She stretched her arms above her head as she stumbled to the espresso machine, gifted to her from her friends. This morning was exceedingly painful-Delilah’s espresso reminded her of her friends back at home, everything in her tiny apartment seemed to remind her of home. The nostalgia was overwhelming, to say the least. These past few months have been brutal; they seemed to have sucked all life out of the young, hotshot attorney. She had started this voyage hopeful and excited, however as time went on she felt drained. Now, life consisted of two things: work and missing her old life.
She had moved to the East Coast because of a work opportunity that she couldn’t pass up. Supposedly, everything she had worked for was here. But she instead found that this life didn’t meet her expectations. She often found it tragically funny how much she was willing to sacrifice for her goals. She was like a dog chasing an evermoving bone. But, c’est la vie. Guilt always flooded Delilah when she felt dissatisfied with her privilege to chase after her goals, so she hid these feelings deep inside. She hated being ungrateful for her opportunities. There were so many people who believed in her and wanted her to succeed--she didn’t want to disappoint them, but all she wanted to do was go home. Usually she sucked it up and continued on, but today was different. She couldn’t seem to shake these feelings. Every time she
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closed her eyes she saw him; she could hear his warm laugh and feel his tight embrace. “Babe, you’ve always wanted to do this, so just do it! I’ll be proud of you no matter what happens.” Tears started to roll down her check, and she broke down into ugly sobs. Tears stained her blouse, but she couldn’t stop. Work started in a half
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an hour but here she ways crying. Eventually she regained control over her breath, blocked out her emotions, and stopped crying. She assessed the damage and tried putting herself back together with a wardrobe change and fresh makeup. Delilah was homesick-but she knew that opportunities came with sacrifices, so she turned ready to break some glass ceilings.
From the Sea We Came, and There We Shall Return Jasmine Flanders ’23
O beautiful and talented Muses, sing your stories of strong and heroic Odysseus. Tell me the tale of great Odysseus’ lowest moment, when one can see that he is a mere mortal man. The sharp movement jerked me from my deathlike slumber. I sprung to my feet, anger coursing through my body. My men stood before me, the bag open, almost empty, their faces contorted in shock and horror as the winds whipped around them, but it was nothing like I felt, for I knew the worst had not yet hit. As if it had been waiting for me, the last wind tore out, the North wind. Before I could even shout, the ship was ripped out from under me, depositing me far from shore and far from help. The water enveloped me, clam and warm, with the Mediterranian summer. “Those mutinous fools-- “ I griped, “how dare they open that bag, how dare they go behind my back?” I seathed, driven on by the fire of my rage. But as one finds out, water puts out all the flames, no matter how strong. The sun shone peacefully down
on the turquoise water, the picture of calm and serenity. My once strong body was bogged down with fatigue. Masking another movement felt impossible. The water seemed to have crept up on my mouth, rising. “Someone would come for me, “ I thought, panic rising. Some deathless god would come for me, I, the cunning Odysseus, blinder of the Cyclops, sacker of Troy would not meet my demise alone with no one to blame, nothing to add to my legacy. “I WILL NOT DIE A QUIET DEATH,” I yelled, but it came out more a screechy plea than the pronunciation and demand I needed it to be. Any true man could out think such a simple death. But my arms were getting awfully heavy. I tilted my head back; the water slipping into my open, gasping mouth. All I could do was sporadically flail my arms in an attempt to keep even a bit of my head over the cursed water. I thought to myself that when I saw my crew again I would go right home and never look at the water again. Continued next page
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My movements seemed frugal. The water seemed to have thinned. Each kick, each stroke did nothing to keep me up. I felt the water creep up to my face, dipping into the hallows of my eyes and finally swallowing me. My tears flowed like the river of Lethe, only to be claimed by the ocean. Holding your breath should be easy, child’s play, but the pressure in my chest got worse, soon crawling up the back of my throat, like a wild animal pushing and clawing, demanding to be let out. My chest started to pulse, begging for air, a breath of life.Maybe the underworld would be better than they say. I could see all the people I wanted to meet. I would have a place of honor at Elysium. I relented to the godless monster inside me. Apparently inside all of us there is a mutinous fool, out for our own
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destruction. I took a deep breath, the water came rushing in, filling my lungs. Hacking, choking, inhaling more and more. The spots came-- aren’t they beautiful? Suddenly, I felt like giggling. My toes were tingly, I snickered, sending a stream of bubbles up. “I’m all tingly!” I happily gurgled. The black dots were filling my vision, creepin gin from the sides. I happily squirmed around, trying to catch the pretty black dots, but my hand went right through--where did they go? The exhaustion hit me like a wave. I attempted a sigh but all that came out was a weak stream of water and spittle. Maybe it was time to rest. I, the great Odysseus will be remembered for my legacy. My crew, my family-- they will keep my memory alive. So long as I am remembered, I still live. I closed my eyes and accepted the fate we all share.
Drift, Emily Oh ’21
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Green Eyed Lucy, Carolina Bulkley Armas ’20
视角 Perspective Joanna Lin ’20
-我是我我真后悔昨天玩到那么晚。半夜醒来， 我忍着尿意艰难地坐起来。我按亮了床 头黑暗中的 闹钟。“啊……才3点半。昨晚真不该 跟她们去联谊的……喝了我一肚子的饮 料，睡都不安稳 。” 我小声嘟囔着，将黏在脖子上的 长发拨到脑后。我似乎是没睡醒，或者 我以为我还在 做梦。当我的脚触到地板想用力撑起我 身子的时候，我身体却失去平衡，摔在 了地板上 。“我去！这是什么东西！” 我摸索 到了灯的开关。嗒的一声，灯亮了。我 惊恐地发现一个 从头到脚穿着黑衣服的人正趴在我刚刚 落脚的地方，脸朝着床底。我害怕地不 能发出声音 。我一边瞪着那人，一边扶着墙走出我 的房间。他一动也没有动，这令我能安
全移到门口 。嘭，我关上了房门，忘记了本来要去 厕所，径直往爸妈房间跑去。我听见咪 咪的叫声微 弱地想起，似乎是从……我房间里传出 来的？ -我是小偷我今天简直走了狗屎运。 我是个善良的人，真的。只是因为家有 老母急需钱财救命，所以才入室抢劫 的，真的。 我进了一户人家。这家似乎有个女儿， 玄关口摆满了芭比娃娃，让我想起了初 恋……等等 。我收好了撬锁的工具，蹑手蹑脚地走 进正对着门口的卧房。让我猜猜看，是 主卧，还是 …… 是次卧。床上睡着的是一个女孩子。
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噫，睡相真差。我深呼一口气，仍然抑 制不住内心的 激动。这是我第一次入室抢劫！这将会 被记入史册！这定会成为我人生一次难 忘的经历！ 不管成功与否。我摸出我老母的照片， 凝视着她皱纹遍布的脸。 妈……你看到了吗……儿子今天……长 大成…… 人了。今晚风有点儿大。我一个激动手 一抖，照片旋转着飘到了女孩床底。我 眼睛一瞪， 毫不犹豫地伏下身子往床底探去。我摸 到了一些毛茸茸的东西。正疑惑着，我 趴在地上， 往床底看去。 那是一双绿莹莹的眼睛。 那是一双闪着光的绿莹莹的眼睛。 那是猫！！我在内心尖叫着。不！那是 猫！我整个人都僵硬了。中学时翻墙去 初恋她家被 猫抓花脸的经历还历历在目。我感觉到 手碰到的猫爪渐渐亮出了尖指甲。怎么
办！我不想 死！ 突然一阵撕裂的痛从颈部神经扩散到全 身，痛的我昏厥过去。我手一挣，两眼 一翻，失去 了知觉。我脑子里最后的图像就是那双 绿幽幽的眼睛。 -我是警察我从没见过这样的案例。 我到达案发现场的时候，那户人家的女 儿正抱着他们家的猫。“她们”两个是 唯二的目击证 人。据女孩说，当时那只猫，叫咪咪， 在女孩床底下睡觉。突然一个男人，就 是那个犯人 ，朝她的方向看了过去还伸手去碰她， 于是她就被吓住了。后来女孩就起床 了，一脚踩在 了犯人脖子上，就成了现在的情景。我 看了担架上的犯人一眼，不敢相信简直 会有智商如 此低下的小偷。他不适合这个行业。
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最后判了他两个月的拘留。提起来就来 气。在审讯的时候，问他作案动机，他 口音太重，
都没。
但我很肯定他骂我了。他竟敢骂我！？ 他当时就是这样说的：“我老母！” 可是看犯人当时
喵。这家伙怎么办？
情绪稳定，也并没有造成什么困难。 唉，真是一朵奇葩。
经检查，病人颈部粉碎性骨折一处（别 问我怎么活下来），脸上划痕多处，很 长时间都处
-我是猫当我被那家伙吵醒的时候，我很不高 兴。 当他伸手碰我爪子的时候，我更不高 兴了。 再后来他想要张开手挠我的时候，我上 去挠了他一脸。然而他好像什么反应
这时我看见主人出了房间。
-我是医护人员-
于昏迷状态。 这也是个倒霉可怜的犯人啊。听说还什 么都没偷到呢。 -我是照片就是……谁能将我从床底弄出去？
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Perspective (Translated) -I am meI regret partying out late so much. I woke up in the middle of the night wanting to pee so badly. I turned on the clock on my nightstand. “Ugh… it’s only three thirty. I shouldn’t have gone to the mixer last night…Drank too much orange juice, and now I can’t sleep.” I grunted and tied my hair in a pony tail to free my neck. I think I either did not fully waking up, or I thought I was still dreaming. When my feet reach the ground and I am trying to support myself up, I lost my balance and fell. “Holy guacamole! What the heck is that!” I reached for the bedside light and turned it on with a flick. I looked in horror at a man in black lying on his stomach right where I just stepped on, facing under my bed. I couldn’t make a sound. I stared at the person intently and carefully slid little by little towards my door. He did not make a single move, which allowed me to make it outside. Bang, I slammed the door. Forgetting that I was going to the bathroom, I ran towards my parents’ room. I suddenly heard Kitty’s voice. It seemed to be……coming out of my room?
-I am the thiefI have the best luck today. I am a person with good morals, seriously. I just really need the money to save my mother’s life so I have to break into a house and steal something. That’s all. No joke. So into a home I broke. This family here probably has a daughter. There are barbie dolls everywhere, which remind me of my first love… okay pause there. I put my lock pick away and tip-toed towards the room right across from the entrance. Let me guess, is it the main bedroom, or… It’s the second bedroom. There’s a girl sleeping on her bed. Ew, what a terrible sleeping face. I took a deep breath, but still couldn’t calm my heart down. This, is my first time stealing from a place! It will be recorded into my family history book! It will definitely turn out to be one of the most memorable experience in my life! No matter if it’s a success or failure. I took out my mother’s picture from my pocket, staring at her wrinkled face. Mom…did you see me…I finally became an…Adult tonight. Twas just a little breezy tonight and it blew the picture out of my hand. I watched it twirl and land beneath the girl’s Continued next page
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bed. Immediately I got on my knees, reaching under the bed. I felt something furry. As confused as I was, I laid flat on my stomach and looked under the bed. It is a pair of green eyes. It is a pair of reflective, bright green eyes. It’s a cat!! I silently screamed. It’s a friggin cat! My body immediately tensed up. The memory of being scratched by my first love’s cat when I tried to climb over her fence is still as fresh as the watermelon I had this morning. I could the cat’s nails are extending out of its paw. Oh lord, what should I do! I don’t wanna die! And that was right when I felt a dull pain spread from my neck all the way across my body. It was so painful that I passed out, unconscious. The last image in my head was those green eyes. -I am the policeI have never seen this kind of case. When I got to the house, the daughter of the family was holding their cat. They were the only two witness. According to the girl, the cat, named Kitty, was sleeping under her bed. And then suddenly a man, that thief, looked in Kitty’s direction and was trying to grab
her, so Kitty was shocked. After that, the girl woke up and stepped right on the guy’s neck, and that was it for the scene. I looked over at the guy on the stretch. I can’t believe a thief can be as stupid as this. He isn’t for this career. -I am the catWhen I was woken up by that guy, I was unhappy. When he tried to touch my paw, I was even more unhappy. So when he was trying to grab me, I scratched him in his face. But he didn’t seem to give any reaction And then I saw my human walked out of her room. Meow. So what’s up with this guy? -I am the nurseAfter the medical examination, the patient fractured his neck spine (don’t ask me how he survived), has cuts at multiple spots on his face, and is still unconscious after this long time. What a poor guy. I heard he couldn’t even steal anything. -I am the pictureSo…anyone can get me out of here?
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Pink Window and Bike, Anna Cole ’21
Satin Savannah Halvorson ’20
Juniper Satin sat on the couch of her office. The curtains of her window overlooking the city were open, letting sunlight stream into the room, but only because she could not be bothered to close them. Satin leaned forward, brushing the hair from her face in the same motion as pressing her hand against her forehead. She could not be certain whether she was thinking through a thousand thoughts at once, or if she was thinking of nothing at all. The musty atmosphere made it difficult to tell where her mind ended and where the air began. Were her office door being knocked upon, she would not have noticed; it might as well have been sealed completely, since she had no intention of leaving the cluttered room. Opening one eye, she looked dubiously forward to the bookshelf full of case files, sideways to the floral arrangements from various hopeful suitors, down to the backgammon board which remained at the perfect standstill of a player whose opponent was herself. Satin’s empty teacup hung dangerously from her hand by a single finger. She leaned forward, closing her eyes once more.
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22 mosaic Boat with Sails Down, Gracie Gaon ’21
An Uncertain Demand Kiska Corrigan ’22
Forget your name for me Forget your name for me Or else I’ll use my charms! Make you Whisper it in my ear Let it run, then disappear. Scream it into the air No one will hear it if you’re the only one there! Forget your name for me Forget your name for me! Or plundered will it be... Make you ...Draw it on your skin Inky webs that spin Engrave it on your hard outside That cracked because of how hard you criedMake you Write it in the sky! Hold it higher than high Watch it drift away. Your name means nothing today. Forget your name for me Forget your name for me, I need to set you free!
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Mind Over Matter, Emily Oh ’21
She Can Be Anything Anna Gorman ’23
She is someone who never gives up; she can do anything she puts her mind to. No limits will ever hold her back. She has a powerful and strong voice. She is a person who knows that no words will ever be able to define her. There is nothing that she cannot do. She is loving, yet aslo a hard and dedicated worker. This person is an advocate for equality. The way she lives her life proves that she works hard for all that she has. She is not afraid to stand up for what she believes in. She knows that doing the right thing sometimes comes at a price. As a person, she is wise and inspiring. This person gives the best advice. Generosity is second nature to her. She gives of herself so that everyone receives what they need. She is someone who will stop at nothing until she knows that future generations will all have equal chances at success. No one will ever have the power to tell her what to do. The way that she lives her life makes world wide peace seem possible. She never stops to think about herself. This person is someone who will never change herself to fit anyone’s standards. Her life will always inspire the good in others. She truly is dedicated to finding a way for equality for all. Her smiles give great hope to a whole nation. No one should ever underestimate her.
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Green Sea, Martya Estrada ’20
Advice from a Wanderer in the Endless Sea Katalina Villarreal ’20
Ah, looks like I’m in the same boat as you, friend. Hmph. Here’s what I have to say about our dilemma: Go away, far away. Go on—get! No wait! Not just anywhere! Or maybe that’s where you want to go… Anyway, make it meaningful. You know, Go to that place that you’ve always wanted to go. You yearn for that place so badly that you live there in your head, Wishing you were there instead. You go through routine motions, yet truthfully you live in a vacant ocean. Vacant oceans... everyone has them; far off shores where everything is greener. The shores you always look towards but can never see. Those places always seem better than the currents right under your nose. Ha! So go on, get! Get out into those shores you desperately pine after-I’m sure you’ll find the missing link to your disappointment… Whether it’s out there, Or on your way back. Hey, are you following my boat? No, no, friend--you can not copy me-let me explain again: Slowly, over time, You feel like you’ve been here and have done everything, but you aren’t full. How come? How so? Even though you left the rough open waters, You still find yourself missing what you once had. So you pack up, go home! And when you get back, You miss what you once wanted all over again! So I guess you won’t be happy, no matter where you go. I guess that means you don’t fit in... anywhere. Continued next page
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What was I saying? Oh! Yes, so where is the place for you? You may keep searching, reaching all the shores of distant views. But you’ll never find one quite like home will you? I’m sorry to break it to you, But this will be disappointing, yet again. You won’t fit in, not if you never settle. Now I don’t mean just physically. You can move from a house to a home, But you won’t feel full at heart till you make the true journey to find you within yourself. Anyway, go off sail and sail to wherever you want, hopefully you’re lucky. I’m glad we got to talk, I told you already that it’s okay to drift because you will eventually be found where your heart is, But ultimately we are both here, on our boats, rowing from shore to shore. I hope that you can settle your soul and be content Without all of this doubtful anxiety of our world pressed against our chests. I know I’ve sat here, gazing at the stars over this endless sea, But I still wonder if there is a place for me. It’s strange, I always thought I knew where I belonged, And so I thought that in knowing that, I could go anywhere, and always return home. But now that I’m back, I realize I can no longer settle here either. My words to you are true still, But I guess it’s easier said than done, huh. I want you to know that I’m here to support you, no matter where you travel. You are your own main self after all, so make sure you find your story and settle. Who knows! Maybe this was helpful for you, But mainly it was helpful for me. Thank you, for letting me sort this all out. I think even though I’m not sure where to put my heart, I feel now that I’ll be able to carry it out of this sea, Sometime, anyway. So thanks! Oh, And good luck to you as well, friend. 28 mosaic
Paths, Sarah Sallee ’21
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Getaway Car Katalina Villarreal ’20
All-day we’d been driving in various stages of silence and radio static. I didn’t mind the silence. I felt that it was another way to punish them. Ethan minded it, though. Anyone could tell. His hands fidgeted in his lap and every so often he would change the station, in hopes of finding some lively upbeat music or a talk show with a sarcastic host with political jokes to make people laugh--anything to break the silence. Two hours in, after God knows how many radio stations, Mom slapped his hand away and told him to stop. Yet she didn’t turn it off. I don’t think she could hear it. She was too angry. Her face was the color of a ripe tomato and her hands clenched the steering wheel so hard you could see her pale bones through her skin. On the one hand, I’m glad she was angry because I got the satisfaction of knowing that I caused it. On the other hand, I’m terrified of her wrath, that was rapidly approaching over the horizon.
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I tried to distract myself from the fear because it gnawed away at me and became a ferocious beast focused on the happiness. So I began categorizing them. Each of them had an emotion. Mom was angry. Ethan was scared. Dad was probably happy with the same bottle of whiskey we left him with. Me, I was somewhere between scared and happy no matter how hard I tried. They mixed together in my stomach. I began to feel sick. I decided I didn’t like being the odd concoction of scared and happy. I didn’t like seeing Mom angry. I didn’t like seeing Ethan all jittery. I wanted to see them happy and laughing again. It had been weeks. I wanted to see Mom kiss Dad’s cheek before he left for work, no matter how gross it was. I wanted to play with Ethan before he started crying. I want to be home. My stomach made its final twist. “Momma, I’m gonna be sick.”
Swan in Focus, Anna Cole ’21
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Butterfly Kisses Corinne Christian ’20
Sometimes it’s just the two of us You never notice me but I’m there Admiring your doe eyes that hold such innocence and at the same time such cynicism Taking in the slope of your nose down from your eyebrows How I wish I could place butterfly kisses down from your nose to your sweet lips Those lips that are somehow always that bubblegum pink Longing to be close enough to run my hands through your soft hair until you’re asleep in my lap Because it’s just the two of us and you’re soft and innocent and awkward now You aren’t like this with other people This is the person I fell in love with This soft, innocent, awkward, albeit loud person Who cares so much Who takes so little Sometimes it’s just the two of us and I wish you were actually here To hug and kiss and love But I know even if you were here you’d refuse because there are always people around And you aren’t this same rose gold love around people that you are with me So sometimes it’s just the two of us And I’ll butterfly kiss down your nose to your lips in my mind And I’ll hug you tight like there’s no tomorrow Because sometimes when it’s just the two of us It feels like just me
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Purple Flower, Maryta Estrada ’20
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We Live in a Bubble, Marina Butler ’21
Corona Time Damiera Cruz ’20
Delilah covered her face with her palms. When was it? Was it Tuesday? What time was it? She knew she couldn’t tell a soul the answer to any of those questions. Time had become a life sentence with no chance of parole-she had stopped counting the minutes weeks ago. Normal life seemed like a distant world, a surreal dream, one only attainable in a parallel universe. Despite her utter confusion, Delilah threw back her covers and stumbled out of bed. As she made her way to the kitchen, Delilah caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked like a shell of who she recently was. Before this chaos, she was on top of the world; she was pumped to finish the last few months of senior year before she was to take on the big scary world! But alas, it was ripped away from her--just as things had finally gotten good: She had the boy of her dreams, the freedom of knowing where she was going to college, the time to enjoy the bucket list she had created with her friends and had begun to savor the last of her time at Catalina. Now, her old life was
all but a distant memory. One she never got to say goodbye too… Nowadays she was stuck in her room because of an invisible enemy; she was trapped inside a prison of her own making, praying to God that each day could pass by just a little bit quicker so she wouldn’t have to deal with the same colorless day again, and again, and again, and again. Everyone kept saying they’d rise once again. She was told that she was strong and capable; she could handle this disaster and be better for it. But in reality, it was so painful she couldn’t bear facing the pain. All she could do was let the cool golden liquid of a corona ease the harshness of reality. The reality of having everything you know and love-torn away from you, while simultaneously being forced to move on. A corona a day keeps the feelings away, Delilah thought triumphantly as the last of the liquid gold traveled down her throat.
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La Novela de Señor Ratón C.C. Shaw ’23
Mr. Mouse was a good fellow. He lived with Mrs. Mouse and Baby mouse in a lovely tree by the river. El Señor Ratón era un buen hombre. El vivía con Señora Ratón y bebé en un casa muy bonita abajo del río. One day, Mr. Mouse went walking along the path to a little redwood grove to gather some flowers for Mrs. Mouse’s birthday when he was stopped by Mr. Raven. “Mr. Mouse! Mr. Mouse! I can’t seem to find my bag! I just had it a minute ago!” said Raven. “Oh dear that’s dreadful! Let me help you look.” said Mr. Mouse. The pair looked and looked and were about to give up when Mr. Mouse noticed the bag poking out from behind a tree. “I found it!” Cried Mr. Mouse “Thank you so much” Raven said, “I’ll just be on my way, say where are you going?” “To the redwood grove for some flowers for my wife’s birthday” said Mr. Mouse “Oh! Well then here is some lovely cheese for you and your family to enjoy. Think of it as a gift from me and my wife.” said Raven, “Thank you very much! Would you like to come to the party?” said Mr. Mouse, “Yes, Thank you very much!” said Mr. Raven and the two headed off. Un dia, el Señor ratón fue caminar a lo largo de la vereda de secoyas, para recogía flores para la cumpleanos de Señora raton. Cuando Señor ratón fue caminar, Señor cuervo se detenio Señor ratón. “Señor Raton! Señor Raton! No encuentra cartera mia! Yo tengo esto hace un minuto!” dice Cuervo. Señor Raton digo, “Oh que terrible! Yo puedo ayudar buscar por tu cartera!” Los dos miraban mucho y estuvieron muy cansado, cuando Señor Ratón se miró la cartera detrás de un arbusto. “Aqui esta!” grito Señor Raton! “Oh muchas gracias Señor Raton! Necesita comitiva para tu Continued next page
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travesía?” dije Cuervo. “Si! Si tu quieres, o sea. Pero, no pierdas tu cartera un tiempo más!” Entonces, Señor Cuervo dijo, “Aqui esta poco queso por tu esposa!” y Señor Raton dijo, “Gracias! Quieres ir a mi casa por la fiesta?” “Si, muchas gracias!” Señor Cuervo contestó. The pair came across Ms. Honey Badger next. She was hanging the laundry out to dry when she noticed the pair coming across the bridge. “Would you mind helping me hang the laundry?” she asked. Mr. Mouse glanced at his watch. There was only another hour until the birthday party for Mrs. Mouse would start. “It’ll only take a second.” she said “Well, if it will only take a second, Sure!” said Mr. Mouse and the three began to hang the laundry. Luego, los dos llegan a Señora Ratel. Ella fue colgar la colada afuera para secar cuando ella vi a Señor Ratón y Señor Cuervo caminaba sobre de la puente. Ella dijo, “Yo necesito ayudar con la colada. Ayuda me?” Señor Raton miro a reljo tuyo. Solamente un hora antes de la fiesta de Señora Ratón. “Ojalá que nosotros regresemos a mi casa.” Señor Ratón dijo a mismo. “Ok! Seguro!” el dijo, y los tres empiezan a colgar la colada. Más tarde, ellos terminan y Señor Ratón y Señor Cuervo fue a la calle cuando Señora Ratel dijo, “Aquí está meil por tu esposa para su cumpleanos.” Después, Señor Ratón dije, “Gracias, pero tu debes dar la miel a ella. Ven!” Señora Ratel dijo, “Muchas gracias! Es perfecto!” y los tres salieron debajo de la calle. A little while later they were done and Mr. Mouse and Mr. Raven began to start up the road to the grove when Ms. Honeybadger called, “Here is honey for you to give your wife.” “Thank you very much, but you should give her this. Please come with us!” said Mr. Mouse. “That sounds perfect!” she called back and the three of them set off for the grove. A little while later the group reached the grove and saw that none of the flowers were Continued next page
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there. “Oh no! What am I going to give my wife?” Mr. Mouse asked, “I have nothing!” He glanced at his watch. “There’s no more time. We need to head back.” he solemnly said. Luego, los tres encontraron a la bosquecillo y no miraron flores. “Oh no! Donde esta los flores? Que di a mi esposa?” Señor Ratón dijo. El ojeo a la guardia, “No tenemos más tiempo, la fiesta comenzará en treinta minutos! Necesito vamos a mi casa.” They were just about to cross the bridge near Mr. Mouse’s house when they spotted their friend, Mr. Toad. He sat on the side of the bridge staring sadly at the river. Ellos fueron caminar sobre de la puente cerca de la casa de Señor Ratón cuando ellos se toparon con Señor Sapo. El se sentó en la puente tristemente miro a la rio. “Mr. Toad! What seems to be the problem?” said Mr. Raven. “No fish are biting today. I’ve sat here for hours and nothing is getting even close to my line. I don’t know what to do!” said Mr. Toad. “I might as well give up.” “Nonsense!” cired Mr. Mouse. “Mr. Toad, have you tried fishing in other areas? Or checking your bait?” said Mr. Mouse asked. “No! I haven’t, but that’s a great idea! Thank you so much! He said picking up his line. “Here is some string for you in return for your help! Give it to your wife, I hear it’s her birthday today!” He said. As he began to walk away, Mr. Mouse said, “Would you like to come tonight? We are just about to go in, you should come!” Mr. Toad smiled, “That would be great.” “Señor Sapo! Que es la problema con la rio?” dijo Señor Cuervo. “Es extraño que no pez este en la rio! Yo me senté aquí por muchos horas y no pez está ni siquiera a mi sedal! Yo no comprendo por qué no tengo picadas!” dijo Señor Sapo. “Yo pienso que yo necesito darme por vencido!” “tonterias! “ dije Señor Raton. “Señor Sapo, pesco en otras zonas? O cambio tu cebo?” “No! Pero es un buen idea! Muchas gracias!” el dijo cuando ello escogió la sedal.
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“Aqui esta un poco de cuerda por tu esposa! Yo escucho es la cumpleanos suyo hoy! El dijo. Como el camina en la dirección opuesto, Señor Ratón dije, “Querería venir a mi casa para la cumpleanos de mi esposa? Nosotros vamos a la casa ahora! Señor Sapo sonree, “Gracias!” Mr. Mouse walked to the door and let him and his friends inside. Music was playing and the table was littered with delicious tarts, pies, and cakes. Mrs. Mouse stood with her friends and baby mouse laughing and talking. Mr. Mouse sneaked up behind her and gave her a great big hug. “Happy Birthday!” he cried! Señor Ratón camino a la puerta de la casa suyo y llamó tres veces. Señora Raton dijo, “Esta abre! Ven!” Señor Ratón dejó sus amigos en la casa. Adentro, los mesas tiene bollos, pastels, y tartas deliciosos. Señora Ratón se paraba con su amigas y Ratón de bebe risa y hablaba. Señor Raton di un abrazo largo a Señora Raton. “Feliz Cumpleanos!” el dijo! “Thank you so much!” she said. Mr. Raven, Ms. Honey Badger, and Mr. Toad followed behind to present their gifts. One Ms. Mouse had expressed her gratitude to everyone she turned back to Mr. Mouse. “Gracias!” ella dijo. Señor Cuervo, Señora Ratel, y Señor Sapo caminaba detras de ella y regalaron los regalos. Señor Cuervo di la queso, Señora Ratel di la miel, y Señor Sapo di el cuerda. Cuando Señora Raton dijo “gracias” a todos ella doblo a Señor Raton. “I’m so sorry but I don’t have a gift for you.” he said. “Yes you do.” said Ms. Mouse. “You have the gift of your kindness. The one that I get to experience every day.” “Look at these people. They are all here because you are kind and helped them and asked them to come, even though it meant giving up something else, and that is the best birthday present of all.” she said. “Lo siento que no de un regalo.” el dijo. “Si.” dijo Señora Raton. “Tu tienes la regalo de bondad. Esto es la regalo yo siento todos los dias. Mira a los personas. Todos esta aqui porque tu esta bien y ayuda ellos. Tu contestas si quieres venir a la fiesta. Se rindió los flores por ellos. Este es la mejor regalo de todo.” The End
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Diamond Walkway, Cooper Clements ’20
Redemption India Gonzales ’20
Why do we want redemption for a man Who tortured children as he mourned her? His grief was not the boys’ fault, but began With men in love with power, and with her. From a troubled home, he looked for others As different and lonely as he felt. At school, she wasn’t enough. He found brothers That fought for the control that power dealt. At school, the boy found family at last. But as his light grew, so did the darkness. Surrounding him. A man stuck the past, Hurt him for seven years, he wasn’t harmless. Are you “the bravest man he ever knew?” I can not understand how he forgave you.
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Snow Covered, Angelia Shi ’21
The Awaited Season of Fall Anonymous
The awaited season of fall When the orange trees stand tall Autumn leaves are golden and brown gently, slowly they sail down they twist, twirl and whirl around Till at last they touch the ground the cold weather falls upon The tremors of cold dawn The night crawls and grows Eerie scratchy sounds of crows send shivers down my spine needles are grown on trees of pine and leaves are dry and wilt as my heart’s filled with guilt
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Sonnet Charlotte Juge ’23
What is the fairest bloom of the harvest The vegetable grown ‘neath slumbering sods? Have it mashed, or in sushi, or however thou carvest Sweet potatoes are surely the food of the Gods What can match its lovely orange inside Its exterior, rough, yet most compelling? Once you’ve pierced its husky, and very hard hide What sweetness is found to be therein dwelling! They say that once the entire planet froze And nothing grew, not even a sapling! Yet the good Earth warmed, and now sweet potatoes Are ours for the chewing and tasting and grappling This dear thing which delights the tongue Is the bounty of nature, springing unsprung.
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Finding Eden, Emily Oh ’21
Son of God Corinne Christian ’20
I don’t want to hear how he preached I want to hear how he cried at night because he couldn’t handle the responsibility I want to hear how he tried to find comfort in the town’s preachers only to be tested I want to hear how no matter how much he tried he couldn’t get Joseph to see him as a son I want to hear how Mary’s desperation turned to his ruin in private I want to hear how no matter how much he tried he couldn’t stop hearing the jeers of fellow children Because God is good but children are mean And children are mean but the adults raising them are worse And those are the adults that raise children starved for attention unreceived at home Wishing to be like the one chosen by God under the eyes of their world And yet he wishes it would stop because every day he doesn’t know if he can do it He doesn’t know if he’s doing the right things And so he cries to God Cries for reprieve, for mercy, for guidance For something more than a party trick miracle to spare his life one more day And when the Roman prefect called him in his stomach sank And he knew it was the beginning of the end And he was resigned as they nailed him to the cross And he wouldn’t let them see his tears of pain and agony in the light of day But he couldn’t help but let them fall in the dead of night Continued next page
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And he couldn’t help but die in three short days with his knees bound up Sobs forcing his death faster He wished he could have lived to teach and to help That’s all he wanted And then his body was stolen from his crypt and he wept and still God looked serenely on And the oppressed became oppressor and the tortured nothing more than a symbol His tears embalmed in stone, glass, and wood forever And he looks on resigned feeling as though part of him is forever missing And yet we only hear of a stony child, a stony man I don’t want to hear what made him stoic I want to hear what made him a man
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夏日 Summer Joanna Lin ’20
夏日注定不平凡。 艾瑞克说，没有冰淇凌的夏日不是一 个完整的夏日，所以他一天吃进去六 个雪糕，还丝毫 没有拉肚子等不良迹象。放学的午 后，我们坐在学校后面的草坪上。我 看着他砸吧砸吧嘴 ，眼睛却闲着眺望面前河涌的对岸。 夕阳，河水上映射着的光彩和他的雪 糕有着同样赤红 的颜色。他今天吃的是草莓味的呢， 我揪断身下的草叶这样想到。 温迪说，夏日是短裤的季节。女孩子 们穿着各式的短裤和超短裙，将涂过 防晒霜的腿无畏 地曝露在太阳下。许多男士的目光便 被粘在了那些白花花的大腿上。夏天 啊，真热。我最 近异常讨厌穿短裤，因为蚊子这种生 物的存在。该死，为什么会有这样的 生物存在呢。好 像夏天过于盛大的太阳一样，都该消 失了才好。
卡尔说，汗水造就他最理想的夏日。 不在乎什么运动，哪怕是看不见汗水 的游泳，都能充 实地用尽夏日九十多天的时光。他是 班里最帅气的男生。每次当汗水流过 他的脸颊，浸透 他的背脊，他因炎热而解开制服上的 两粒扣子的时候，许多并未剧烈运动 的女生的脸也是 绯红的。卡尔还说，夏日的花才是最 惹人爱的。这时的花朵不似春日甜 腻，反而清香。他 说他的她最喜欢这样清淡的、纯真美 好的东西。 这样看来夏日是青春，是属于生命 的。
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Summer (Translated) Summer ought to be extraordinary. Eric says, it won’t be a complete summer without ice cream. That’s why he eats six ice creams a day, and he never has any bad stomach reaction. After school, we sat on the lawn by the river. I was watching him gulping on his ice cream, and he was looking over at the other side of the river bank. The sun sets into the far horizon. Its reflection on the river has the same red as his ice cream. Huh, he’s having strawberry today. I thought about that as I pulled the grass out beneath me. Wendy says, summer is the season for shorts. Girls in all the different styles of shorts or skirts, exposing their limbs in the sun. With sunscreen on, of course. Many guys’ eyes would be glued to those legs. Ugh, it’s so hot in summer. I hate wearing shorts lately, because of the existence of a bug,
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named mosquito. Dang it, why would that kind of creature exist on earth. They should just disappear with the overly heated sun. Carl says, sweat makes for his ideal summer. No matter what sports you do—even swimming where you can’t really feel you are sweating—it can always fill up the ninety something days of your summer. Carl is the cutest guys in the class. Every time the sweat drips down his face, soaking his back, and he unbuttons the top two buttons on his polo shirt, many girls’ faces, who hasn’t done any sports, are also faintly red. Carl also says, the flowers in summer are the loveliest. They are not as sweet as those in the spring yet much more refreshing. Summer is youth. It belongs to life.
Pink Skies, Wendy Liu ’23
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Introspection, Emily Oh ’21
A Bar on Midnight Street Katalina Villarreal ’20
Two thoughts, loseley connected, bring forth the unexpected. Shivers claw down my spine, drilling tiny holes into my muscle. My back becomes taut as I take in the smell of her blood, But as she creeps out of the demon’s den, I watch her withdraw from the inward bustle. She tilts her head, there is fading malice in her eyes, I notice her canine fangs as she unfurles and seethes like a snarling wolf. “Why did you do such a thing to yourself?” I braved to sound unwise. Hardly caring for my presence, I got my reply from the beast herself: “It was not I, but the men who wanted more. Unrestrained and hollow to their core; I only took what was mine--the right to avenge their crimes. My mother has died, they beat her for being a whore; So I slipped in and slit their throats three times. Of course you can see what a mess they have made of me. But I have no repent to give, I am now sin free.”
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54 mosaic Mt. Sopris, Anna Cole ’21
Series of Shorts #3 Corinne Christian ’20
3. The last time I’d heard her play she was showing off and she was so focused it was harsh and it was beautiful but something about it was wrong. And her wide searching eyes never met mine as I sat on the risers and watched her rigid form stabbing the keys. I hadn’t heard her play in four years and the next time she was alone. It was dark outside, and cold. And I heard the most beautiful melody from behind a closed door. And she was there playing, but this time it wasn’t harsh and she wasn’t so focused. This time she let her fingers skate across the keys and it was haunting and I couldn’t help but think that was how it was meant to be played. And I looked into the music studio and she looked at me with tired eyes and after a beat I kept walking.
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Civic Center Station Corinne Christian ’20
A cold breeze brushed her cheeks as the repetitive clicking sounded as she made her way down the worn concrete steps. She was welcomed with a monotonous conversational buzz and the continous pitter-patter from shoes as they connected with the concrete. A distinct musty smell hung in the air and invaded the senses of fellow pedestrians. She reached into her warm, enveloping fluffy pocket to retrieve a thin blue plastic card with a smooth exterior. She joined in with the continuous pitterpatter as she walked up to the scanner. A quiet mechanic beeping sound allowed the cold metal bars to open, prompting her to walk down the decaying antique stairs to secure a train. A loud droning voice emitted from the walls of the station, notifying the pedestrians of each train’s arrival. After a short wait, a long gray train with red and yellow detail whisped by, pulling to a screeching halt, and opening its indestructible doors. She entered carefully, observing potential spots to sit or stand, and settled for remaining by the doors and grasping the trustworthy cold silver metal pole that so many entrust.
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Mushroom, Hailey Boe ’20
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Hello Fall, Ingrid Yu ’21
The Autumn Series Adrienne Wood ’21
Love Autumn turned my leaves to gold Before they fluttered down And became stepped on Rotting slowly into the earth that was you Lost Leaves don’t fall suddenly They fall slow Beautiful until they fade Into the ground And all that’s left are sticks and branches Pointy and sharp Digging into skin Clinging onto life Truth Nature turns autumn leaves gold Hiding death with her beauty
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Snaps You’ll Never See Corinne Christian ’20
Snaps you’ll never see 1: I miss you I know it’s only been a day but I still do, I wonder how long it’ll be before you open these Probably a while, you never look at Snapchat It’s okay I still love you Snaps you’ll never see 5: I’m going to college At this point I know you won’t look at this so you’ll be the first to know I’m committing to a college on Friday Maybe you’ll be able to guess which one from what I’m wearing No, I know you won’t care enough to look I still miss you, I wish we’d hung out more Snaps you’ll never see 12: I’ve been thinking You know, sometimes I think about that time that you thought I had your phone And so you choked me to the ground And I thought I’d have bruises I don’t bruise easily In case you’re wondering, I’m okay Snaps you’ll never see 13: I’m not sure I miss you I was talking to some people and I think we need to talk I don’t think our relationship is super healthy for me
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[EDIT: unsent] Snaps you’ll never see 14: [EDIT: redacted, unsent] Snaps I never sent 14: I miss you still I’m tired and sad and I think my depression is getting bad Snaps I never sent 15: I don’t know what to think I have bad depression and you make me sad I’m not sad that you don’t open these You make me sad Does that makes sense Snaps you’ll never see 20: hey I miss you How are you Besides work You looked cute in your story I miss you Snaps I never sent 16: hey again It’s been a while Why don’t we talk It feels like you’re ignoring me Why Why don’t we ever talk anymore Whatever I did I’m sorry I miss you I miss you
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My House Caroline Bulkley Armas ’20
From the outside, it looked normal. A simple modern design with glass windows replacing a few of the walls. It was blue completely normal, average. I wished it was dirty. Cracked paint, broken windows, unwelcoming. A place that had do not enter rewritten across the garage door. Because it felt that way. The air inside stank of anger hurt and betrayal and was thick with fear. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but it never changed. Enough tears had been cried inside, to flood the entire house. Everyone inside held short fuses with determination to set someone else’s alight.
be alright.” I wanted someone besides myself to look at me and then the house. Me and then the house and back again before saying you don’t belong there. But that day seemed forever away. So I told myself that when I grew up. When I had a life and a family of my choosing. I would buy myself a house. A nice house, far away, where the outside matched the inside. Where everyone hugged and kissed and smiled. Where anyone could whisper, “I love you” in the dead of night and know it would be heard, understood and returned.
There was never any hugging or kissing, simply the dealing of money.
Where only happy tears hit the floor. Where the air was breezy and light and smelled of lilies.
The outside didn’t match the inside. I wanted it to, so when I pointed at it and said, “Yes that is my house.” People would pat me on the back, give me a hug and tell me “everything’s gonna
A house that would be blue with white shutters, an overgrown rose bush creeping onto the porch, average yet different. A house where the outside matched the inside.
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Nights like These, Emily Oh ’21
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Olive Green Door Katalina Villarreal ’20
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale... As warm air left my lips, small white clouds formed in front of me. It was already late January, another new year, and a cold one at that. My frozen fingers fumbled to find the key to my olive green apartment door. Honestly, the door had been unlocking and locking itself frequently enough that I came to terms with the thought of living amongst a ghost. Of course, I wasn’t afraid of any ghost… “Ah… has it been three years already?” I shook my head, “That means it’s almost mom’s anniversary again,” I continued talking out loud to calm my nerves,” I think--I think I’ll order the flowers instead of trying to buy them in a store this time. I’m sure mom won’t mind...” I shoved my left hand into the warmth of my wool coat’s pocket and let my right hand freeze as the matching apartment key turned the lock of the olive green door. But there was no click . My heart dropped as I sensed it: someone was waiting for me on the other side of this door. My eyes widened, and my body began to shake involuntarily. “Oh god.oh god.oh god,” I breathed out as pressure filled my head, as my heart pounded, and as the door slowly creaked open. The only light daring to enter my cold apartment was coming from the wintery outside, where I stood shaking. My eyes saw a figure, cloaked in darkness, lounging on my couch. I stayed in the doorway, not breathing or making any attempt to go inside, despite the bitter air. Run, run, run! My brain screamed as my legs twitched. But my cat Lysandra’s loud purr stopped me. My eyes darted to the figure’s lap where she lounged with him, letting him pet her. My fears melted as I realized it was finally time. Continued next page
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She stood there with the door open, letting any bit of heat that may have been trapped in the old apartment out into the crisp winter. She was shaking, but I knew it wasn’t because of the cold. I had been coming into this apartment for weeks now, deliberately locking and unlocking the doors to see if there was any physical reaction. To my surprise, there was. Of course, that is protocall for my job. She continued to stand in the doorway, but her shaking subsided; I decided it would be rude to continue this without any introduction. “Ms. Lee, Maggie Rose Lee, I am Supernatural Investigator Kincade, but you can call me Gabe,” I waited for a response. She merely blinked. “A month ago, I got a call from Mrs. Gonzalez, you would have known her by her maiden name Danny Lopéz, about an issue with this apartment,” I waited again. “I know that Danny Lopéz is now Mrs. Gonzalez. I was at her wedding,” was her only response. “Ah, I see. Well, Ms. Lee, thank you for responding. I take it that you are not going to run away? If that is the case, would you please come into the apartment? I did not take the liberty to find your thermostat or lights, and I am frankly freezing.” She only looked and blinked at her cat. Lysandra clenched and unclenched her paws. “I promise I will not harm either of you, Ms. Lee,” I inclined my head. “Right… right…,” she made one swift motion into her apartment, flicked the lights on, shut the olive green door without locking it, and made a direct path towards the far left wall to turn on the heat. “I would normally get up and properly introduce myself, but I wouldn’t want to move Lysandra,” I said, attempting to be casual. Continued next page
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“Humor doesn’t suit you, Mr. Kincade,” Maggie said as she stared me down from the opposite side of the room, “You got a call from Danny. What is wrong with my apartment?” I sighed, “Ms. Lee, a month ago, I got a case about unnatural movement in this apartment. Mrs. Gonzalez asked me to come here directly. She gave me a key to this olive green door and explained that there was a family here about three years ago--” Maggie took in a sharp breath. “--but the girl’s mother had passed away in a terrible car accident. According to the girl’s boyfriend, Josh, she broke up with him and moved out when her mother died. But Mrs. Gonzalez claimed that the furniture and cat remained. Mrs. Gonzalez had tried to find the original apartment keys, but never could. She had tried to feed the cat, but she was always fed. Normal ghost activity, if you ask me.” Maggie was no longer looking at me. She stared at something on the wall behind me. I stood to look. Lysandra leapt up at my movement, and silently strolled over to rub her face on Maggie’s legs. She bent down to scratch the cat’s head. “Your mother… this was Catherine Rose Lee before the accident, wasn’t it?” Maggie exhaled sharply, “Don’t pretend that you haven’t seen that photo, or haven’t been in my apartment before. Lysandra doesn’t take kindly to liars. And you can call me Magdalena. Only my mother called me Maggie, and Ms. Lee is too weird.” “I see… my apologies Magdalena. Alright, since you already know that I have been here a few times, I am sure you know why I am here as well?” She looked at me, and her eyes showed no hint of fear, sorrow, or anger as she stated, “My mother died three years ago in a car accident. I have been dead for eight. I must leave...”
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“Ah, so you were bound to this world by your mother’s will, until she left as well…. But you did not follow?” “No. I couldn’t leave Lysandra like that. I made enough of an attachment to this world to form a relationship with a mortal, but when my mom died I ended it. I couldn’t leave her too.” “I interviewed your boyfriend, Josh. It seems like he is also a gifted one, like me, which is how he could talk and see a ghost like you. I offered him a job as an investigator, but he didn’t feel inclined to meet any other supernatural beings. I don’t blame him. Anyway, he said he loved Lysandra, and he made an offer to take her once I explained the situation,” my eyebrows rose in question, “will you take it?” Magdalena stood still, thinking for a moment, before she picked Lysandra up and faced me. “I want to see my mother again. I do not wish to remain tethered to this earth any longer,” she showed no sign of fear or pain as she admitted it, but I felt a hint of relief wash over her as she handed Lysandra to me, “I knew you were here. I knew that this would be my last day…” “I am glad you decided to go willingly, I do not enjoy forcing this choice on any of the supernatural beings that I deal with…” “Hmm… Gabe? On the twenty-fifth, that is my mom’s anniversary, can you please put pink tulips on her grave? That is all I want.” “Of course,” and with that, Magdalena breathed out one last time, and turned to air. “Well, looks like you will be living with Josh now, Lysandra,” I said as I turned down the thermostat, flicked the lights off, and locked the olive green door one last time.
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Time Preservation, Holly Liu ’22
70 mosaic Falling Leaves, Uma Sinha ’20
Oh, Fall Anonymous
Oh, fall, You seem to fall out of view, with the impending Christmas season it seems we forget about you, But with no reason! You can’t fall from my heart, for I love you so with your mellow vibes And confused atmospheric conditions. You are my favorite yearly edition. Fall you bring me joy, I just wanted you to know. I will pick up your leaves and carve your pumpkins too oh fall. How much I love you
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4 a.m. Blues Damiera Cruz ’20
Delilah stared blankly at her MacBook; a blank google doc glared back at her. Frustrated, Deliliah blindly grasped at her desk. Where is my damn coffee? She took her eyes off screen, and tried focusing on her desk but everything was blurry. Woah! Is the room spinning? She started laughing. She couldn’t tell you why! But what she did know that she was so screwed! She had a research paper due tomorrow, couldn’t find the stupid missing bracket in her code, and had a math test tomorrow. Not to mention, all of the other work she had from her extracurriculars. Boy, she was in for a good time! She figured, if she was going down, she’d go down swinging. The sun had begun to rise, and she couldn’t remember the last time she slept—but she’d succeed at all costs. Even at 4:47am!
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Half Moon Bay, Holly Liu ’22
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A Blessing for the Class of 2020 Dr. Nancy Hunt
To the athletes and the poets, the scholars and the artists, The divas and the hipsters, the meek and the brave, Inventors, creators, dancers, the gentle and the spirited: We saw you, every one. And you will be missed. We will remember your goodness and hear the echo of your voices. You have changed this place with your presence. May you continue to move through the world with confidence. Everyone has something to teach you, even if it is only patience. May you look for opportunities to learn. You will find what you look for. May you look for goodness. The more love you give, the more you will have. May you find those worthy of your love and love bountifully. Life will make you more beautiful every day. May you share those gifts with the world. You will fly, soar, and triumph. May you celebrate with joy and grace, humility, and generosity. You may also stumble. May you discover then that we are all connected And you are never alone.
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Between Two Places, Ms. Claire Lerner
76 mosaic Reflections, Angelia Shi ’21
Student Editors
Katalina Villarreal ’20
Hailey Boe ’20 Faculty Advisor
Dr. Nancy Hunt
Staff Prose
Photography
Dylan Barry-Schoen ’21, section head
Anna Cole ’21,
Caroline Bulkley Armas ’20
section head
Heidi Hansch ’21
Sophia Lamarque ’21
Lauren Gebreamlak ’21
Ava Owens ’20 Sara Harley ’23
Poetry
Corinne Christian ’20, section head
Foreign Language
Jane Hoffman ’21
Rosemary Lee ’20,
Jasmine Flanders ’23
Isabelle Nagy ’22
Lucia Butler ’23
section head
Holly Liu ’22 Visual Arts
Joanna Lin ’20
Madeleine Nowak ’22, section head
Ashley Liu ’21 Dancing Water, Uma Sinha ’20
Amy Li ’21 Audrey Morrison ’20
Design & Production
Communications Office
Front Cover: Golden Skies on the Gate, Gracie Gaon ’21 Back Cover: Golden Gate Bridge, Amy Li ’21 All content © 2020 Santa Catalina School students as indicated.
6/2020-Digital
mosaic The Publication of the Arts SPRING 2020 1500 Mark Thomas Drive | Monterey, CA 93940-5291 | 831.655.9300 | santacatalina.org