Strike Magazine Orlando Issue 08 by Strike Magazines

ABOUT

he Issue

We ask that you bring your appetites for our eighth issue of Strike Magazine Orlando.

Indulge in issue “ATE” and embrace the delicacies that delight you. This mouth-watering edition will make you view your palette in a whole new light – and hopefully humor your hunger too.

As you flip through the pages of this issue, we will spoil you rotten with flavorful fashion and weird works of art. You will consume content that may look best in a museum or on a menu. These concepts will look so appetizing that you’ll want to eat the pages but be careful — you are what you eat. Let us serve you with a silver spoon, but don’t bite the hand that feeds you. There is no shortage of low-hanging fruit…some so low it’s by your feet. You’ve been craving this, you just didn’t know it yet. Nothing about this issue is half-baked

Take a seat at Strike Orlando’s table and let us serve you our finest issue yet.

WE ATE SO YOU COULD DEVOUR.

Letters From Our Editors

Alexandra Sullivan

This is a love letter to the magazine that changed my life. When I first came to college, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life until I joined Strike Magazine and immediately felt a sense of belonging… a sense of place. The first photoshoot was so life-changing that I left with tears in my eyes, just as I did at my last photoshoot. Strike Magazine Orlando has been a part of my life for the last four years and now It’s finally time for me to say my goodbyes.

When interviewing students to be on staff, a common question I get is “What’s your favorite thing about being on Strike?” and my answer is always the same: “The people we have on staff.” I want to thank everyone I’ve had the pleasure of working with during my time at Strike, though the friendships will continue on long after this chapter closes. While this journey hasn’t always been easy, the people I’ve worked with have been my support system through and through. I’ve been spoiled rotten. I’ve also had the pleasure of working with my best friend Grayson, who brings so much life to the creative side of the magazine.

Strike Magazine Orlando has taught me so much about not only what it takes to run a magazine but also about myself. I will never forget what I’ve learned from leading this magazine and the memories I’ve made. I will miss it all, from the late-night meetings to the early-morning photoshoots and the first time holding a new issue in my hands. As this chapter closes, my feelings can only be described as bittersweet. As I take my final bows, I know that I will miss this publication so deeply, but I feel grateful that I have three incredible issues to show for it. I am so proud of the work I’ve done while leading this magazine and I can’t wait to see what's next.

Strike Out, Alexandra Sullivan

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Grayson Keglovic

CREATIVE DIRECTOR

Once again we look back on a semester of new faces, old friends, fresh ideas and hard work. Strike is a revolving door, welcoming new members into our whirlwind of chaos and creation, and ushering them out the other side more than prepared for the next chapter in their lives. Ally and Grayson put their trust in me to lead the external team toward growth in Strike’s influence, and I will forever be grateful for the opportunity. I am inspired every day working with our wonderful staff.

For Issue 08, we wanted to create something tasty, something you would want to snack on. To live is to consume, and our art is food for the soul. It is important to fuel your body right, and even more important to feed your mind some Strike! Thank you to everyone who took part in making the issue special. Each member of this magazine exudes motivation. There is a certain…hunger in our eyes. Any time food was on our plate, you better believe WE ATE!

- Josh Arden

While my hunger for Strike Magazine Orlando has been satisfied, I will never be too full of the experiences and friendships I have gained from this publication. I came to Orlando anxious and unsure of a lot, but I am graduating from the University of Central Florida with a heart so fulfilled from experiences that it’s overwhelming.

Strike Magazine Orlando has given me freedom that I never could have imagined. Freedom to express my ideas. Freedom to try new things. Freedom to be my authentic self. I can confidently say that I would not be the current version of myself if I did not join the staff during issue 03. My five editions of this magazine have given me a sense of security and reassurance that I needed to finally push myself into the editorial industry – young Grayson on her high school yearbook staff would never believe it.

I want to thank all of you for trusting me with the creative vision and brand of Strike Magazine Orlando. This magazine could never be what it is today without the Editorial, Creative and External staff. I want to give a special thank you to Gabby Macogay for assisting me in a period of my life that felt foreign: the creation of issue 06. I couldn’t have navigated the role of a Creative Director without her by my side. I also want to thank Ally. Not only have I had the pleasure of leading a staff with her, but I have also had the pleasure of making a best friend outside of work.

The work we’ve done together makes my heart flutter and ache. We’ve created something that I am forever proud of and grateful for. The bittersweet end is no longer near, it’s here.

For one last time, Strike Out, Grayson Keglovic

Josh Arden

DIRECTOR

EXTERNAL

Beauty Team

Director:

Jaeli Gilyard

Hair Director: Assistants: Katherine Poglar

Jillian Brown

Naiya Barsallo

Lys Eri

Director:

Director Asst.:

Assistants:

Anna McLean Art Team

Jillian Proudfoot

Rebecca Montas

Cierra Mitchell

Kiera Mayott

Hannah Tucker

Styling

Team

Director: Assistants: Marc Anthony Miller

Ranya Wakash

Camille Evans

Deavion Deleon

Lauren Robinson

Thein Cordero

Calie Killam

Kylee Sutherland-Maxwell

Orlando

Photography Team

Photographers:

Sophia Lamberty

Brandon Eddy

Photo Editor: Estephanie Ortiz

Elizabeth Fernandez

Haleigh Grose

Cierra Mitchell

Magazine Orlando Issue 08

StaffList

Management

Editor-In-Chief:

Alexandra Sullivan

Creative Director:

Grayson Keglovic

Directors:

Matt Conte

Assistants: Ashlyn Buckman

Alex Duffy Set Design Team

Marie Brooks

Morgan Ryan

Mason Snowden

External Director: EIC Assts.:

Josh Arden

Jaydin 'Tiano' Valmyr

Sydni Torrero

CD Asst.:

ED Asst.:

Elizabeth Fernandez

Joshua Jacobs

Writing Team

Directors:

Director Asst.:

Copy Editors:

Staff Writers:

Nina Rueda

Gabby Macogay

Sarah Harwell

Hollis Humphrey

Olivia Wagner

Hadley Balser

Bella Love

Kendal Asbury

Richard Rentz

Victoria Lopez

Strike

Social Media Graphic Designers

Irene Triantafyllopoulou & Sophia Pollock

Brand Ambassadors

Social Media

Team

Director: Assistants: Nicholas Flood

Makayla Gray

Mason Snowden

Jalenah Darby

Gaby Valencia

Isabella Acosta

Janell Guillen

Dylan Torres

Director: Assistants: Trista Currier

Lance Lozano

Brooke Bonacker

Amarah Presley

Maggie Hagarty

Kirah Graham

Rebekka Thompson

Director: Assistant: Web/Social Coordinator: Reanna Haase

Delaney Gunnell Ariana Garcia-Fundora Blog Team

Video

Team

Director: Videographers: Trinity Pearson

Haleigh Grose

Marketing Team

Directors: Assistants: CalynneThompson

Roberto Cotto

Claudia Orisakwe

Laura Moreno

Amanda Janvier

Adryana Irizarry

Valentina Lorenzo

Elizabeth Fernandez

Sophia Lamberty

Estephanie Ortiz

Mariacamila Espejo-Garcia

Directors: Assistants: Kiara Alamo-Valentin

Isabella Vivino

Angelina Curatelli

Lilly Dame

Alexa Keller PR Team

Devan Gipson

Hanaa Sabir

Jade Newman

Max Kelly

Events

Team

Director: Assistants: Fabiana Ungaro

Kate Bednarek

Maddy Campbell

Alexis Calderwood

Gianna D'Alessio

Zine Team

Director: Assistants: Amanda Turko

Margaret Wynn

Camryn Nejaime

G Dunnivant

Faith Reid

Alexis Capuiso

ipe!

ipe! 7

You Are What You Eat Bite the Hand That Feeds You

Half-Baked

Consumption

10 22 46 34

Fruit by the Feet Spoiled Rotten Crave

58 70 82 TABLE OF Contents 9

You Are What You Eat

In the Catholic church, one is taught to avoid the seven deadly sins. Also known as cardinal or capital sins, these values – pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth, are considered to be the most tempting, yet the most evil virtues one can hold.

Growing up, I was taught of a different sin. One I still believe would curse me with unimaginable karmic repercussions to this very day.

The biggest sin an Italian can commit? Buying pre-made pasta sauce from the grocery store.

Cooking is a labor of love in the average Italian family, and this is especially the case in mine. From a young age, my grandma taught my cousins and I to all cook with her. Her sauce recipe, passed down to her from her grandma (and maybe even beyond that!), is the piece de resistance in each of my family’s favorite meals. From eggplant parmesan to spaghetti and homemade meatballs to sausage and peppers, each recipe provides a warmth and comfort for every member of my large, extended family. Each meal is a savory, yet oh so sweet, reminder of the people who have left the greatest impact on my life.

My cousins and I would roll meatballs, sprinkle seasonings into the sauce pot and stir with a wooden spoon as we gabbed about the elementary school drama we faced or the latest games we were playing in the backyard or on the Wii. Even today, this knowledge –and obsession with my grandma’s cooking, bonds us as we age. Whenever we reunite every couple months (or now years, with our busy schedules,) each one of us has a different recipe we are begging to

recreate since we’ve missed it so much while away at school or facing adult life.

Every holiday, my dad reminds us of his first Thanksgiving spent with my mom’s side of the family. What he once knew to be a quick 45-minute meal consisting of merely turkey, stuffing and mashed

No matter how many years go by, my mom, grandma and I will always set aside time to cook or bake together, laughing and making messes and reminiscing on old memories or catching up on new tales from the characters in each of our separate, yet still incredibly connected lives. And as we each grow and change, our bond remains consistent, tried and true, just like the recipes they have passed from generation to generation. Each of my grandma’s recipes has a story, a memory, a fondness attached to it - something I will continue to carry with me forever and ever.

Because of this, I do truly, sincerely believe that to buy a canned sauce is a slap in the face to such a triumph of lineage. What kind of daughter am I if I were to entertain the idea of Barilla or Ragu? (Italians are also known for their intense sense of melodrama.)

potatoes had now transformed into an hours-long marathon of five courses and a table so overflowing not everyone could fit there at once without having to share seats and lean against nearby walls. Italians are known for taking their food incredibly seriously, not only because it tastes so good, but because each meal is crafted with such a sincere dedication to the people it’s being shared with. Even a casual Tuesday night dinner at my grandma’s house will turn into a three-course minimum event, with trays upon trays of Italian cookies, cannolis, cakes and espresso to round out the evening.

Finding a constant in a world that is seemingly always, always changing at this period of our lives, is something invaluable. While we must go forth and embrace change to truly grow, holding tight to the traditions and values that have shaped us is a way to carry each version of ourselves further into the world. To know yourself at every age is to remember the things that have always remained, to remember the things that molded you into who you are. That always and forever, I am still the same girl who learned how to cook pasta sauce as a toddler, as is my mother, as is my grandmother.

by Gabby Macogay

The Strike Special

What is your favorite food + nostalgic memory? Any specific type of food that reminds you of a special time?

CHICKEN LITTLE

“Despite the number of times I’ve told my brothers and sisters, ‘If you eat any more chicken tenders, you’ll become a chicken,’ they still remain human. But it’s a funny moment, realistically a universal one; a tender memory, especially with dinosaur nuggets.”

MAC AND BEES

“Me and my little brother used to eat mac and cheese shaped like bugswhich looking back is SO WEIRD, but we loved it. I tried to find it recently and they stopped selling itI’m convinced it was just me and my brother keeping that brand alive.”

MANIC PIXY DREAM GIRL

“Pixy stix make me think of my family’s one-bedroom apartment in NY and how ratchet it was.”

PAD THAI-RIFFIC

“My favorite food is pad thai. I remember being 13, it was my first time in Los Angeles. My best friend and her family had brought me along on their family trip because it was a dream of mine to go to LA. They said they couldn’t go without me, and we indulged in so many different kinds of foods. I will never forget sitting in our hotel room and getting the order of chicken pad thai and feeling that my life had changed forever. I had a sense of enjoyment that I knew would last a lifetime.”

HOW ‘BOUT THAT STRESS DOUGH?

“Chocolate chip cookies have so much power. I grew up baking with my grandmother, so the smell puts me right back in her kitchen, trying to sneak dough out of the mixing bowl. Now, when I’m stressed from school, I bake.”

EDITOR’S FAVORITE

“I spent a summer in middle school reading all of the Harry Potter books for the first time, and that same summer I was also super hyper-fixated on Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Now every time I eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I think about Harry Potter, and every time I watch Harry Potter I think about Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

RECIPE FOR SUCCESS

Before you get ready to dine, set an idea of what you want your end product to be. I may be able to hand you some of the ingredients, but it is up to you to determine what that taste of success is to you. Imagine what you want, crave it, foster it and make sure to give it time to cook. Go in for seconds and don’t be afraid to be hungry for more– that will help you perfect your recipe.

INGREDIENTS

• A tablespoon of attention to detail

• Remove one ounce of self depreciation

• A sprinkle of risk taking

• A heaping handful of patience

• A cup of self reflection

• A dash of kissing ass, or networking, if you will– depending on your career of choice

• A few healthy (as healthy as you can get them) coping mechanisms

DIRECTIONS

You want to know the best thing about it all? I really don’t have any directions for you. Life doesn’t come with a how-to guide or nutrition facts, as I’m sure you have figured out. And I sure am not the person who should be telling you what to do.

I’m a 20-year-old girl who just found out what a high yield savings account is like last week– okay, I’ll tell you to do one thing… Go research high yield savings accounts, it will probably help you be more successful. As corny as it sounds, we are all just figuring it out as we go. Every single person that you know– your mom, your professors, your boss– is living their life for the first time. And quite frankly, they also don’t know what the hell they are doing– they have just gotten better at faking it.

Now have you been told this your whole life? Maybe… well, probably. But we all need to be fed a little reminder sometimes. And one thing that I can tell you is that intention is everything– the comments you make to others and even the thoughts you feed yourself. If you are weaving good thoughts into your work, the outcome will showcase that– and you will be that much more successful.

And one thing that I can tell you is that intention is everything– the comments you make to others and even the thoughts you feed yourself. If you are weaving good thoughts into your work, the outcome will showcase that– and you will be that much more successful.

I’m sure we all were all told at a young age, treat people as you want to be treated. I think this still stands true in our early adult years, with new experiences mixed in– whatever energy you put out into the universe will come back to you. Some people might think I’m just spitting out a bunch of nonsense, and who knows I might be. But that’s almost the point, it’s up to you if it’s nonsense.

Some people might think I’m just spitting out a bunch of nonsense, and who knows I might be. But that’s almost the point, it’s up to you if it’s nonsense.

Now I don’t know if I have sent you into more of an existential crisis or if you feel comfort in knowing that we are all just guessing. Either way, take everything I say with a grain of salt. And don’t forget, the secret ingredient to everything is just adding a little bit (or a lot) of love. Strike Out,

by Reanna Haase by Reanna Haase

BI

the hand that feeds you 23

silver Smile

you come to me with a silver smile sharp teeth, but all I notice is the shine

you sink those glistening canines in my neck and tell me it’s what I want you know better

you tell me you want a woman who speaks dig deeper- you want a woman who recites deeper- you want a bird pretty words, pretty feathers- be careful of the beak

my pretty words impress you shiny words to match your shiny teeth I look good on your arm your new favorite accessory

but I’m not Hemingway, or Joyce, or Dickens Men are Gods I am decoration

but I’m not Hemingway, or Joyce, or Dickens Men are Gods I am decoration something you can take out of the cabinet and show your guestsoh, this one’s a writer? they let the label hang off me a price tag social currency be compelling, but don’t speak

something you can take out of the cabinet and show your guestsoh, this one’s a writer? they let the label hang off me a price tag social currency be compelling, but don’t speak

“different” dressed up in new shoes you protect me from men with shiny teethif I gave you a mirror you’d tell me it was one of them

the men with shiny teeth they lurk in dark alleyways they don’t sleep in your bed they don’t stroke your hair kiss your face they don’t look like you until one day you open that perfect, pink mouth red tongue slithers across broken skina silver tooth

Bella Riley Love

Bella Riley Love 25

CLOSED MOUTHS DON’T GETFED

HALF

BAKED

DEAR GOD, Please Take Me Seriously: The Journey of a Dumb Blonde

by Bella Riley Love

Being a woman in academia is messy. You’re constantly second-guessed, ridiculed, the butt of every joke. You start to begin thinking something is wrong with you — not the system that constantly puts you down and builds barriers at every turn. Imposter syndrome becomes your shadow, a mirror self whispering in your ear, pulling at the threads of every accomplishment.

I believed, for a longer time than I would like to admit, that I needed to bend myself to fit other’s expectations of what a woman in academia should be. I tossed my girlish sensitivity aside — and became sharp. I became mean. If these men wouldn’t accept me, I would prove I was better than them — smarter, cutthroat, ambitious.

I’m sitting in the bathroom of a girl I just met — she and her friend are arguing over the perfect shade of hair dye colors. I bask in the fluorescent lights and watch as sun-bleached tendrils of my formerly long, blonde hair fall onto the linoleum and collect at my feet. The girls coat my hair in chemically smelling box dye — should I have splurged on better product? My scalp tingles as I wait for the color to set in. We pass the time — chatting, laughing, letting our secrets trade hands and slip through our fingers. Rinse. Dry. The dumb blonde is gone. I’ve traded my relaxed summer style for sharp, dark, and piercing.

I think this will make people take me seriously. I will walk through doors and people will not question who held that door open for me — or if I deserved to have that door held in the first place. I will no longer be talked down to by men who are writing “the next great American novel,” dismissed to a world of what they believe women’s fiction should be. I will belong.

Nothing changes. Maybe men take a second before dismissing my credentials and glare at me when I speak in class rather than talking over me, but I am still the same in their eyes. The dumb blonde is a myth. No matter how much hair dye I coat myself in, how much I sharpen my teeth and my words; I am still a woman. In the eyes of these men, I will always be seen as a woman before I am seen as a person.

I put my pitchforks down, stop picking fights and mincing words. I let my roots peek out, my jagged locks softening into gentle curls I tug into braids. I realize what women have concluded since the dawn of civilization — not every tool is a weapon.

I stopped trying to hide my sensitivity behind being cold, cutting intellect — instead, I let it become an asset. I approach my research with softness, flip through files with uncalloused hands and cry with the stories of gold-star mothers who’ve lost their sons. This delicate nature I tried so hard to tamp

down becomes a way to connect with those I write about, clasping their stories in my hands and heart.

becomes way to with those I write clasping their in my and

I find people who carry the same tenderness — who know that passion doesn’t have to be all tearing stories apart with your teeth, biting at the nib until you find the “real,” the “truth,” the “core.” We hold these stories close to our chest — but know, in the end, they’re not ours to keep.

No, the color of my hair does not carry the weight of my level of intelligence. Neither though, does my softness, my femininity, my careful nature. I will grow out my hair, or I will chop it off, dye it every color under the sun — my sensitivity is here to stay.

No, the color of my hair not the of my level of intelligence. though, my softness, my my careful nature. I will grow out my hair, or I will chop it off, dye it every color under the sun — my sensitivity is here to stay.

by Delaney Gunnell

BEWARE!

We’re best ...

SERVED RAW!

money at your favorite local coffee shop is supporting small businesses! Screw capitalism, guys.

I’ve seen a lot of people make resolutions to stop eating out. You might be hoping I’ll say you can still get takeout twice a week and save money. Unfortunately, this is a habit that is essential to cut back on. If your problem is a reluctance to spend money on groceries, going to Aldis and buying one-dollar pasta is a step towards spending less. If you truly love eating out and it brings you joy,

OSHup at night, and the decision to be smart financially and enjoy the things you love seems hopelessly at odds. Chances are if you’re one of these people, you probably have less to worry about than you think.

For the coffee girlies: I’m here to tell you it’s fine to order your really specific eight-dollar lavender latte with oat milk (my coffee order) when you go to a coffee shop to work. Let’s be honest: instead of buying more coffees with half of what you want, buying your favorite coffee less frequently allows you to spend less money and enjoy a coffee you actually love. To me, spending money needs to feel worth it, and creating joy for yourself through small purchases here and there definitely is. Another positive about spending

of choice doesn’t fit this rule, maybe it’s not for you.

With records, my rule is to only buy a record I have expressly decided to collect. For example, after agonizing over whether to buy a Bowie compilation vinyl or Rumors by Fleetwood Mac, I chose to go with Bowie because of my pre-established desire to build up my Bowie vinyl collection. These choices hurt but hey, if you really want the record, add it to your list for next time. (I’m also a big believer in fated thrifting and record matches: if you see the same item over and over again and you’ve been lusting after it

DE

one or twice every two weeks can make it something to look forward to. To make it more of an occasion (or a muchneeded break from work and school), bring your partner or best friends along, dress up and enjoy spending time together.

Now for my biggest hindrance: clothes

MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE 50

MORE 51

LICK THE PLATE

Clean

Come take this test!

Come take

See what kind of girl you are by simply taking this quick quiz. Are you a downtown girl, coquette, clean girl, or maybe you prefer dark academia? Take a look at the wide array of characters we can sell to you!

I have noticed the surge of new aesthetics and girl tropes being popularized online. Every week it seems like there is a new style being popularized along with a catchy name and a few moodboards to spark inspiration. Originally I loved these trends and went along with them easily. I craved making up different kinds of outfits to replicate those moodboards and I would seek out the vibe that I wanted on Pinterest for more inspiration.

Along with these popularizations, I started noticing how quickly new ones were popping up and then fading out,

filling the hungry mouths of consumers everywhere. New trends appear for a week or two, usually with a similarity to a trend that already exists. Different kinds of “cores” popping up like balletcore, fairycore, angelcore, or mermaidcore. Now, I have nothing against people exploring different styles and trying new looks to find out what they feel fits them best. I even think that these trends can be fun and create their own subcultures of fashion!

However, I think that it is time to take a step back from these fun fads and look at the hyper-consumerism behind them.

Nowadays, behind every one of these characters, they have a certain array of products associated with their image. I have seen it often with water bottles, and this can be reflected in the recent popularity of the Stanley Cup. In the past, it was Hydroflasks, but even those have faded out of popularity. When products are heavily associated with the image of one of these aesthetics, the more people try to achieve it, the more unnecessary items are bought. Not only that, but once the trend dies out these products, clothes included, are trashed or unused.

Fast fashion has made this easier than ever to achieve, with fast fashion shops like Temu, Shein, and Romwe mass-producing trendy clothes that appeal to these aesthetics. Since these clothing pieces are so cheap as well it makes it easier than ever to buy cute clothes to get the aesthetic you desire and then abandon them for the next up-and-coming “girl.” It is way too easy to pile everything onto your plate and not even get a second to fully taste what you are consuming, leaving you with a full stomach but no real satisfaction.

The “It Girl” concept has particularly interested me because it seems to go beyond just clothes and instead move into the realm of hygiene, skincare, and makeup. The it-

girl aesthetic to me also screams consumerism. Every single video I see involves a large amount of expensive skincare and makeup. There are some parts of them that I enjoy such as the videos that promote being healthy and taking care of yourself, however, I think it is important to acknowledge that you do not need to spend money to be this “character.”

I feel like it is important to acknowledge the dangerous overconsumption that these trends can cause and being aware of them is crucial. I know that I fall victim to these consumerist trends all the time so I feel the need to try and give some advice on how to stop yourself from falling into them!

Before you buy something, think about why you are buying it and if this is something that you can see yourself wearing more than just a few times. Consider quality over quantity, maybe you prefer to have a few reliable basics that do not fall apart over statement pieces that are not made well. What value does this add to your life?

Are you buying it because you have been really wanting it or are you buying it because it goes along with an image you are trying to build for yourself?

All of these are important questions to ask yourself before buying based on these aesthetics! I think the number one thing to keep in mind is that you do not have to buy yourself an image and it is completely okay to not buy into these crazes.

It’s art - and we crave it

The Forbidden Fruit Effect

We all crave something. Why is it

that the thing we crave the most is always what we can’t have? Or someone we can’t have.

There’s nothing I want more but to feel his touch again. But he no longer feels the same. He’s gone, but the yearning never leaves.

I’m homesick for arms that don’t want to hold me anymore (or never really did.) I watch his life through distorted pictures while she’s lying on his chest. In the place that was once mine.

But was it even?

No name was given to what I thought I had with him. What do you call something that had all the ingredients of the real thing, but expired so quickly and was void of the label that validates it? Off-brand? Fake? A knockoff?

What do you do when you realize you were nothing more than an appetizer that failed to satiate him as he waited for what he wanted? He saw you as nothing but a way to fill his time while waiting to be served what he already knew was coming. Although he knew it meant everything to you, he gave you little tastes of hope and affection that fueled your desire and blinded you. He had you convinced one day he would decide he wanted to make it real, too. Even though he knew all along that you were never what he truly wanted. Making it official was never something that was on the table.

Still, he allowed you to believe you could change his mind and that he’d be content if you gave him everything.

But his craving is never satisfied either. You thought his manipulative design of insincerity would dull your hunger for real affection, real love and the real him. But maybe part of you knew the truth deep down. You knew he would never be yours.

But what else can you do when your craving consumes you?

The Forbidden Fruit Effect. This psychological phenomenon seems to be a common experience, as many people find themselves trapped in the vines of an all-consuming desire. The components of this concept comprise a recipe that reveals why what we can’t have has such a hold on us. It may be the unrequited love of a parent or lover, the physical appearance of someone whose body or face we wish was ours or the dream job we worked so hard for but didn’t get.

But there is always something, just out of our reach.

The antagonizing allure of the unattainable is too appetizing to let go of and unavoidably leaves us wanting more.

These things are forbidden, off-limits, out of reach and yet we crave them so ardently that they consume us. The bitter taste left in our mouths reminds us of all we’ve lost by not being able to have what we perceived as once ours but was never really ours at all.

The only relief comes when we recognize that those things escaped our grasp for a reason. Perhaps they were never good for us in the first place. But their presence will continue to eat at us unless we accept their inaccessibility and learn what it is meant to teach us.

by Kendal Asbury

We historically see the female form as a canvas for all mediums of art- renaissance paintings of great and moral humanity hung on a simple nail, sculptures that embrace our anatomy to the finest detail, even naked bodies perched and perky on velvet cushions, ready as inspiration. Likewise, the male form has been portrayed just as delicate, yet strong, carved from stone that parallels their rough exterior. It was beautiful. It was savored.

Now, regrettably, the grease from our fine cooked meals has tarnished our sterling pans and shiny palettes. In fact, we now shield ourselves from the glorification of physicality as a whole. The modern day exposure of female and male bodies, unfortunately the former more than the latter, has been referred to as closely as the typical prostitution. The act of indulging in our physical confidence has remained to be slut shamed and dulled down, like a rusty kitchen knife, to a depth of sexualization.

Nina Rueda

Sexualizing our confidence, or even the simple act of showing it off, isn’t “grotesque” or “attention seeking.” It’s fulfilling to our souls, like a juicy cheeseburger with a cookies and cream milkshake. We present our passions as flawlessly as a French croquembouche and paint ourselves like one of those French girls too, just in the form of pixels and enticing messages- because we are sexy and we are handsome.

While many see Only Fans, I see Only Pans. A form of breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert. We feed on our individuality and this is how we express it. It isn’t necessarily the looking aspect, but the creating:

Lips pursed like a glistening strawberry, for clay sculptures lacked color.

Arms raised, bent and back arched, because paintings were missing dimension.

Veins out while we flex our confidence, since we sweat for genuine work and bleed for raw artistry.

So what if we use our bodies to do it? So what if we coat ourselves in whip cream and top our cherries with cherries like a delicious sundae?

It’s art, it’s seduction- and we crave it.

by Nina Rueda

Starving Artist

Being a film major, I’ve had the privilege of being exposed to media where the perfectionism to insanity pipeline is quite normalized. So many artists, similar to myself, are able to see parts of themselves within these fanatical characters who sacrifice so much to accomplish what they truly love. As we are reassured that this behavior is not only average but often expected, the obsession for perfection begins to grow. The “obsessed artist” sub-genre of film has begun to glamorize the toxicity of this craving to be perfect and has a huge impact on people’s aspirations and self-image. These unattainable goals are continuously put out in the media and consumed by viewers, only intensifying our desires.

The concept of the “starving artist” has come to symbolize the sacrifices artists make in pursuit of their craft. Financial struggles, societal pressure and self-doubt can plague artists, leading to a constant feeling of inadequacy, a tendency to pick apart their own work and the hunger for something more. This self-criticism not only hinders the artist’s ability to appreciate their own talents but can also stifle their creativity and inhibit their growth. The constant pursuit of perfection can create a sense of never being good enough, leaving artists in a perpetual state of dissatisfaction.

The familiar crave to be perfect is often rewarded at first, driving this motivation even further. To do better, look better and be better as if we aren’t already perfect the way we are. The idea of perfection is subjective depending on the standards one holds oneself to, however, at what cost would it be worth attaining? As artists, we are expected to put everything on the line for success. We repeatedly beat ourselves up about our appearance or work ethic and we lose sight of why we made the decision to become an artist from the beginning. We hyperfocus on every flaw and ultimately lose any enjoyment we initially had. The happiness we gain from our passions leaves once we feel our goals are aimless.

An ideal example would be the notorious 2010 film, “Black Swan,” which introduces Nina Sawyer, a ballerina who has succumbed to psychosis as she let her end goal blind her from everything else she had.

This narrative showcased the ‘all or nothing’ mindset, which tends to be a preconceived notion that consumes the minds of many artists. Director Darren Aronofsky uses a plethora of cinematic elements within the film to increase the viewers’ anxiety as they’re exposed to Sawyer’s world through her corrupted vision. By delving into the psyche of its characters and showcasing the destructive effects of pursuing an unattainable ideal, the film prompts viewers to reflect on the cost of perfection and advocate for a healthier approach to artistic pursuits. “Black Swan’s” impact resonates beyond the screen, contributing to ongoing conversations about mental health, the pursuit of excellence, and an emphasis on the need for a more compassionate society.

“Whiplash” is another prime example of the “starving artist’s mentality.” Andrew not only sheds blood, sweat, and tears for his practice, but he also prioritizes it over both his mental and physical health. Even after the car crash, he doesn’t think twice before running the rest of the way as the chance at success and glory is far more imperative than his body crumbling with each step he takes. Both Andrew and Nina are determined about their craft, with both making their respective art forms their entire world.

However, in Andrew’s case, perfection becomes a source of vengeance rather than what initially started as a love for music; Nina’s love for ballet remains, but is fused with her perception of success. Regardless, perfection and success, once obtained, become a drug for both characters. Neither practice their craft for the sake of getting better but for the chance of hearing applause, recognition, and validation. Thus perfection becomes fueled by society itself rather than those participating in its game. Success is society’s measurement of perfection, but it fails to regard the work and dedication it takes to get there, which is crucial to the journey in the first place.

The irony is that while these films show the dark side of chasing perfection, they’re also part of the problem. As “Black Swan” can be seen to romanticize the detrimental consequences of the starving artist mentality, this medium also is able to demystify society’s obsession with flawlessness and serve as a thought-provoking exploration of the human desire to be perfect. They set up these ideals that are just so far out of reach for us. It is important to remember that it’s okay not to be perfect. The more that media is created surrounding this struggle the more it emphasizes people further to follow this disordered mentality. Like a flash before our eyes, it becomes so easy to fall victim to this projected thought process as we have been surrounded by it for so long.

We should never be so hard on ourselves that we lose the love for something we once had. Even writing this article I find myself nitpicking every word I typeand why? The little voice within our heads that constantly lets us know that we aren’t good enough should be silenced, yet it continues to eat us up inside. The conformity that we’ve grown to accept has blinded us from the uniqueness of our imperfections. The craving for perfection can be a double-edged sword for artists, fueling their creative drive and pushing them to overcome obstacles. While the media has portrayed this quest as leading to remarkable achievements and groundbreaking innovations, the downside of this desire for perfection is the emotional toll it often takes on artists.

We’ve been fed this idea of perfection through all these sources of media, and been starved of the ability to just be ourselves. Perfection is nothing but a false hope. A condition humans created to justify sticking to what they know, what they’re good at- to justify not giving themselves rest. However, I think it’s okay to have flaws and make mistakes as that is what makes us who we are. Imperfections differentiate us, and that in itself is human.

by Olivia Wagner

fruit by the

FEET

FOOT

by Nina Rueda

Within the golden brown crust of a freshly baked ciabatta lies the fluffy, glutenous contents that make our taste buds happy and our stomachs full. Cut it dle, stuff it with some mozzarella, pesto, and prosciutto (my big Italian heart is salivating) and a flavorful combination awaits. The innards are delicious, but it’s important to never forget certain appendages that make or break the rest.

I’m talking about the butt of the loaf. Don’t let the feet on the page fool you.

But if you’re so keen on exploring that foot fetish of yours, I’ll entertain it.

Like any yummy, juicy, savory food item, there’s always the parts we’d rather not con sume. A majority of society neglects the peel of a banana, throws away the greens on top of a sweet strawberry, and leaves that poor outer edge of bread laying on the top- never to be eaten unless there’s no more slices of worth. To some, that might sound familiar, though it has nothing to do with food.

Feeling good about the food we eat is becoming vulnerable with ourselves, just as much as running our hands over our stomachs, judging our noses in the mirror, and covering our feet and toes with socks so we don’t have to look at, arguably, the “least attractive” part of our bodies. We garnish and beautify our necks, our wrists, our favorite features, but pay no mind to the parts that are easy to conceal.

We begin with the first glance of our face, trail our eyes down to our chests and our hips, pause, then finally end at our feet. The edges are ignored, their flavor entirely disregard ed. But the bread in between and the bodies that sit nicely amongst the rest of our persons cannot exist without their beginnings.

Our feet pave the path to our eyes, the windows of our souls. The peel of a banana allows the fruit inside to grow. It’s a long journey, maybe more than a foot long, but it’s ours, and it’s delicious!

When the opportunity presents itself to you, take the time to stare deeply at your reflection in a full-length mirror. Dare I say a foot-length mirror?

Analyze- but don’t judge- the start and finish of your beauty. From head to toe. Those inner contents and appendages (God, we get it, you have a fetish) matter just as much.

Tampico®

by Nina Rueda

Some days, parched and in desperate need of a memory, I become fixated on orange juice concentrate, trace the water droplets of my youth, and watch as they glide down the sides of my glass. I think of Her hands, old and wise, pouring the factory produced sweetness slowly. It was never homemade, perhaps it was just the thought that counted, but Abuela’s Tampico® reminded me of home.

Refreshing. Sweet. Nostalgic. Her late, curly, Colombian hair curled around her eyes, which stared at my chubby cheeks as they chugged down whatever percentage of high fructose syrup was contained. At its core, Tampico® was orange juice, fresh and enthusiastic with immaturity, yet to be branded with the realness of the world. Abuela held my hand through orange juice, and she always had crackers to go with it. Tampico® was tangerine juice too, foolish and sticky, succumbing to innocent situations with naive intentions. It was pineapple juice, sour, sweet, and childish. She was there for most of it. Comforting, gentle, and all with that floppy hat on her little head.

For such an abundance of artificial flavors, Tampico® filled my life with none of it. I was lucky enough to grow up with the influence of juvenile blunders, to nip at and lick the succulent juices of my childhood.

Tampico® has been everything I’ve ever loved, mixed to genuine perfection.

And you can’t enjoy the bitter tastes of grapes, those secondary colored counterparts, without those sweet beginnings.

The transition of fresh squeezed youth to heavily stepped on vines of adulthood isn’t easy.

There's messy foundations, splatters of mistakes against the wooden beams nailed together to create a slow stream of stress, anxiety and expectations. What better way to drown our sorrows than the fermented joys of our childhoodaged to fine wine as much as ourselves?

It’s pressed and squished and squashed with the same feet that ran across Abuela’s old carpet, matted down with memories and even spilt Tampico®

Now I have my own rug, my own memories, a glass clutched in my grasp. But it never would’ve meant the same, probably would’ve been an outlet for negativity instead of appreciation, if it weren’t for the flavors of my past to give way to the bitter and sweet tastes of fine, mature wine. I’m grown, Abuela, a high fructose product of all of the above.

by Richard Rentz

e’re all battling time. Time is the ultimate resource; it holds our life and our beauty and we would do anything to slow its effects. We are advertised photoshopped images of wealthy people to tell us that aging is something we are supposed to be preventing. There are billions of dollars to be made in making people desperate to stop the inevitable. There’s no reason elementary-aged kids should be worried about anti-aging skincare, and there’s no reason we should be discussing things like “preventative Botox.” The narrative around getting older needs to change.

Every new year, I can’t help but be a little bit freaked out by the passage of time. Life sometimes feels like it moves too quickly, and New Year’s Day is the most bittersweet reminder of this. I’m only 21, but like most of us, I’ve already been thinking about ways to preserve my

youth in the future. This year, I wanted to stop resisting the inevitable and focus on how to work with my current situation at any given moment. We treat ourselves, and others, like pieces of fruit that can spoil if left out too long. We see our aging skin as decay instead of life. We spend so much of our lives scared of time passing that we neglect to enjoy and savor life. I do not want to see the new year or a birthday as a grim reminder that death is near, but rather as inspiration to find joy no matter what stage of life I am in. A study by the Pew Research Center on expectations of aging showed that a majority of people believed someone was old once they hit their 80s, however, the life expectancy of an American is in the mid-70s. Most people die before they ever “get old,” and with that comes a huge risk of taking life for granted.

Life is a privilege. When I get worried about something stupid like smile lines, I think about my younger self, who didn’t want to be here anymore. I imagine that little boy who never heard his favorite album, never met his best friend, and certainly never had a gray hair or a wrinkle. It’s so easy to forget as a young adult that you’ve only been grown for a few years. In the grand scheme of life, your 20s are still your infancy. I don’t want to take this time of youth and development for granted because I’m so scared that it’s not forever. Age comes with wisdom. Age comes with the type of friendship you can only develop over 20 years. Age comes with experiences that you never thought you would be lucky enough to have. It’s not something you need to spend your last dime to prevent, it’s not a dark entity that will rob your life from you; it is the one thing we all should hope we are lucky enough to experience. You need to keep your mind and soul ripe, not your body. Life is short and insufferably long at the same time, and no amount of fighting is going to change it. Accepting and embracing the beautiful signs of a life well-lived seems much more fulfilling than chasing something you will never catch.

Taylor, Paul, et al. "Growing Old in America: Expectations Vs. Reality." Pew Research Center, 29 Jun. 2009, www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2009/06/29/growing-old-in-america-expectations-vs-reality/.

Richard Rentz & Grayson Keglovic

Thank you to Strike HQ and the Strike community for giving us this platform to create something special.

Thank you to everyone who has shown your continued love and support for this publication. We couldn’t do it without you.

Our time in Strike Magazine Orlando has come to an end. Creating a magazine from scratch is not an easy task, but we have had the most supportive staff during these past three issues. We want to thank our assistants who have worked closely with us to make these magazines possible: Marie, Delaney, Gabby, Sydni, Tiano and Liz. It has truly been the time of our lives growing and graduating with each of you. We’ll always remember when we got sick on nostalgia, had unlucky girl syndrome and ate down at our last supper together.

We’re so excited for the future of Strike Magazine Orlando.

With much love, Ally and Grayson