Vol. 35 / Issue 6 / April 2017
Limited Edition
REFORMATION: Artistic Submissions p.14
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Letter from the editor @dhirschnews /dhirschnews
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o say this has been a busy year would be an understatement. Since coming on as editorin-chief last summer, our team has grown Metrosphere from three issues of submissions to six issues of original reporting and features. Our distribution has expanded from a handful of locations around campus to several sites throughout the city. We’ve produced hundreds of stories from Denver to Black Rock City to Standing Rock, interviewed celebrities, students and politicians and have been honored with awards.
we turn to the future and introduce you to a woman working to alleviate textile waste in Branded: Lavender Elephant.
Personally, in the midst of all this, I graduated from MSU Denver, watched my daughter turn 13 and was accepted to the grad school of my dreams — a busy year indeed.
Speaking of roots, for our last issue, we wanted to honor our own with a special spread of creative content. In between our monthly sections you’ll find MSU Denver student submissions in ART, POETRY, FINE ART PHOTOGRAPHY, PROSE AND PHOTO JOURNALISM. Aristotle said, “The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.” The same could be said of journalism. In these pages, we aimed to make the two coexist. I don’t know if we’ve succeeded, but I do know we learned a lot in the process.
There have been long days, sleepless nights, fires to put out and successes to celebrate. Our staff has not just grown in numbers but also in excellence. I can honestly say out of all the places I’ve worked, this team is the best I’ve ever worked with. I will miss being in the trenches with them every day but take comfort in knowing that I will see their work in the field for years to come.
Thank you for the opportunity to be your editorin-chief, to learn and grow in ways I could never have imagined. Thank you to Steve Haigh, for having my back since the beginning and teaching me that I don’t need to share a person’s politics in order to respect them, or find common ground. And thank you to David Hirsch, for having my back for 16 years and teaching me the meaning of unconditional love.
We began this year with the theme of Reformation, the action or process of reforming an institution or practice, in the hopes of not only covering problems but also shining a light on solutions. With April being Alcohol Awareness Month, we take you inside one organization working to help children and families coping with addiction in METRO's Hidden figures: The Betty Ford Center Children’s Program. In honor of Earth Day, we look at its roots in Digging in: Earth Day celebrates 47 years. And in THREADS,
It's been a busy year, but more importantly, a blessed one.
Deanna Hirsch Editor-in-chief, Metrosphere Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6 | 1
Staff Editor-in-Chief Deanna Hirsch dhirsch6@msudenver.edu Managing Editor Teresa Diaz Soriano tdiazsor@msudenver.edu Metro Editor Alysha Prieto aprieto4@msudenver.edu Imbue Editor James Burky jburky@msudenver.edu Technosphere Editor Kaitlin Benz kbenz@msudenver.edu Threads Editor Kayla Klein kgash1@msudenver.edu Photo Editor Victoria Edstedt vedstedt@msudenver.edu Creative Director Ethan Casady ecasady@msudenver.edu Art Director Maddi Troisi mtroisi2@msudenver.edu
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Words Derek Gregory Adam Barnhardt Jenni Rukavina Keenan McCall Brooke Wallinger Photos Keenan McCall Derek Gregory Lisa Hall Kayla Klein Nikolai Puc’
Cover “The moon carries with it a sensation of lightness, suspension, a silent calm enchantment.” - Italo Calvino Art by Maddi Troisi.
Submissions Contributing Editors Jasmine Krapf Gardell Neal Jr.
Submission Dividers Art by Maddi Troisi
PR Associate Preston Morse pmorse3@msudenver.edu Director of Met Media Steve Haigh Assistant Director Ronan O’Shea Production Manager Kathleen Jewby Office Manager Elizabeth Norberg
Met Media P.O. Box 173362, CB57 Denver, CO 80217-3362 No part of this book may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior permission of Met Media, except in the context of reviews. Printed by Frederic Printing
Table Of Contents
SUBMISSIONS ART
METRO 6. Digging in: Earth Day celebrates 47 years 8. Hidden figures: The Betty Ford Center Children’s Program
16. Danielle Cunningham Tierney 18. Maddi Troisi 24. Conor Baldry 28. Ethan Casady
POETRY INTERSECTION 10. The gay’s gaze: Flung from space
IMBUE 12. Imbue review: "Sober Stick Figure"
TECHNOSPHERE 92. Striking gold: Steve Yun, from fan to master 94. In pursuit of a trivial good time
THREADS 96. Branded: Lavender Elephant 98. Tastemaker: Alejandra Colmenero, activist and alumna 102. About Town: The art of life
32. John Wilhelm 33. Daniel Nelson 35. Kelsi Long 36. Silvana Onofrio 37. Victoria Edstedt 38. Kristin Hogan
FINE ART PHOTOGRAPHY 40. Yeon Choi 44. Carl Glenn Payne 48. Victoria Edstedt 52. Amani Newell
PROSE 56. Matt Passant 59. John Wilhelm 62. Sydney Crain
PHOTOJOURNALISM 68. Karson Hallaway 72. Andrea Herrera 76. Teresa Diaz Soriano 82. Jordan Roland 86. Nikolai Puc' Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6 | 3
METROPOLITAN STATE UNIVERSITY OF DENVER BFA THESIS EXHIBITION \ SPRING 2017
1 2 SHOW 1: Opening Night 4/21 6-8pm Open 4/21-4/28 SHOW 2: Opening Night 5/5 6-8pm Open 5/5-5/12 CENTER FOR VISUAL ART 965 Santa Fe Dr. Denver, CO 80204 msudenver.edu/cva
Five Points ee
Buffalo Exchange 226 E. 13th Ave.
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lvd
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Center For Visual Art
Auraria Campus
City O’ City Fluid Coffee Bar MSU Denver Arts Building Auraria Library
Denver
The Market at Larimer Square
Av e
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E Colfax Ave
York St
2526 E Colfax Ave.
E Colfax Ave
Santa Fe Dr
Tivoli Station, 300 Level
The Bardo Coffee House
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E Colfax Ave
Tivoli Brewing Co.
1628 16th St.
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North Captiol Hill
Emmanuel Gallery
Tattered Cover Book Store
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St
Broadway Blvd
King Center
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16
51 Broadway
Downing St
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Cherry Creek
The Molecule Effect Racine’s E Alameda Ave
METRO
Digging in: Earth Day celebrates 47 years By Derek Gregory
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e’ve seen the bumper stickers. Some of us have even bought the T-shirt. But for those who’ve yet to drink the Kool-Aid from an eco-friendly cup, you might be wondering, “Just what is Earth Day and why should I care?”
in to promote sustainability, protect our shared resources, create new industries and safeguard science literacy for future generations.
e first rt D y ye rs o s re tion to major oil spill along our nation’s Western coastline Celebrated each year on April 22, in more than 192 t t elson itnessed first nd e urrent countries around the world, Earth Day’s purpose is struggle to keep oil pipelines from contaminating to celebrate our planet’s natural resources and to rivers and waterways is an echo of this decades-old promote a cleaner, sustainable future for all. With concern. Over the past year, the largest gathering environmental and political interests clashing yet of indigenous tribes in history attempted to stop again, this year’s Earth Day campaign is centered the Dakota Access Pipeline from crossing under on environmental and climate literacy. the Missouri River, potentially contaminating the fresh water supply for millions of Americans e first o fi i l rt D y s elebr ted below. Despite their efforts and former “If we on April 22, 1970. It was founded by Sen. President Barack Obama’s intervention, the continue Gaylord Nelson, D-Wis., as a national pipeline went forward after an executive to address teach-in on the environment. Students order President Donald Trump’s signed gathered in colleges and universities on n the issue of the around the U.S. in organized protest, environment where nd million meri ns filled For many, environmental issues and we live as though streets and parks in solidarity movements such as Earth Day with the planet we all share and have become partisan, but this we’re the only species call home. wasn’t always the case. The that lives here, we’ll create 1970 Earth Day event was a disaster for ourselves.” Initiatives around the Auraria widely supported by both Campus in celebration Republicans and Democrats. Sen. Gaylord Nelson of Earth Day 2017 are Their nonpartisan mission largely focused on was to call attention to viability. Members of the initiatives that protect our Students for Sustainability Club, a tri-institutional group, environment through mutual learning and education, plan to partner with the Ban the Bottle campaign to piece of common ground many are hoping we can reduce plastic waste around the Auraria Campus over get back to sooner rather than later. the next year. The idea behind Ban the Bottle is to in re se t e number o ter refill st tions ross t e Sen. Nelson once said, “If we continue to address the campus and to end the sale of single-use water bottles issue of the environment where we live as though in campus facilities and retail stores. we’re the only species that lives here, we’ll create a disaster for ourselves.” His words ring true today. Other Earth Day events around the country include the March for Science at the National M ll in s in ton D on ril i e t e first Earth Day event, the March for Science is a teach-
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Celebrate Earth Day at Skyline Park in downtown Denver When: Friday, April 21, 10 a.m. - 2 p.m.
Graphic by Maddi Troisi
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Photo courtesy of Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation
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By Alysha Prieto
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ubstance abuse doesn’t happen in a vacuum. The physical, mental and emotional damage that affects victims of addiction spills into the lives of loved ones. Children are especially susceptible and the impact it can have falls anywhere from glaring to all but invisible on the r mifi tion i ter s le n t e l te s ormer first l dy etty ord brou t attention to alcohol and substance addiction as a family disease. In 1982 she founded the Betty Ford Center along with Leonard Firestone. From the beginning, the center echoed Ford’s beliefs by focusing on rehabilitation efforts for the whole family. In 1997 the Children’s Program was developed to serve as a gap in existing services. The program works with children 7 to 12 years old who are impacted by alcohol and drug addiction. While it has grown and evolved in its two decades of operation, the intent has remained the same. “Number one, we want kids to know that addiction
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tt a is not their fault,” said Kathleen Rhodes, counselor at the program’s Aurora location. “We also want them to know that they’re not alone.” The program takes place over a four-day period and occurs one to two times a month depending on the time of year. During the four days, participants l y onfide nd le rn lon side eers o are struggling with similar issues. They help kids understand what addiction is, how people can get it and how people can get better. They also give them tools for their own prevention and for coping with the stress they’re experiencing. Research has shown that for people who struggle it ddi tion t eir e o first use is round to 13. The program hopes to educate children about substance abuse before they have the added pressure from classmates and peers. The focus on normalizing the experience is crucial in removing the stigma that children may feel and allows them to open up. Sharing statistics such as that one in
METRO
four kids have a loved one who is struggling with substance abuse aims to do the same. ildren re o ten re erred to s t e first urt nd last helped in cases of substance abuse. Rhodes attributes this to lack of opportunities for help as well as shame or disbelief that may be felt by the caregiver. “A lot of people deeply want to believe that their kids were not affected. Whether that’s because they weren’t around them when they were using, or they only smoked in the garage, or they dropped their kid off somewhere every time they were going to use, kids are still affected. They do deserve to have their voice heard in that way,” Rhodes said. Rhodes, an MSU Denver graduate, ilit tes t e rou s nd first learned about the program during on eren e in er fin l ye r s student. She immediately connected with their optimism for the future.
incredible people in the community who have el ed su ort us fin n i lly e’re ble to do that,” Rhodes said. e use t e ildren’s ro r m s t e e ibility to work with each family’s needs, they can play a part in what follows the four-day program. n our in ontinued t er y or first time visits to play, or family and couples therapy can be the next course of action. Community referrals and follow-up opportunities within the program are options as well.
“It was Mrs. Ford’s dream that no child be turned away.” –Kathleen Rhodes
“We really hope to change the legacy of families who have struggled for years with addiction. We see how it runs through families again and again,” Rhodes said. e su ested rti i tion ee is but no child has ever been turned away because of fin n i l need e ro r m or s it e mily and puts as much trust in them as possible. They ask that families who can pay the full fee do so. If they can’t, then they ask for a portion of that fee. “It was Mrs. Ford’s dream that no child be turned away. Through a lot of philanthropic efforts and
odes s e ifies t t every id presents differently in showing signs that they require further support. Some children take on parental roles in caring for siblings and parents. Others strive for high perfectionism and stress in doing things right, while others act out in class or at home as they struggle to express themselves in appropriate ways.
Getting involved is as easy as giving the center a call, no matter what stage of recovery the victim is in. While some people may be wary of reaching out, Rhodes hopes that once they do they recognize that the center is not there to blame or shame. “We understand that addiction is a disease and people don’t choose to get diseases,” Rhodes said. “We want them to know that we still know so many good parents, people who really want to do the very best for their kids even though they’ve had this struggle. We just want to help families overcome.”
The Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation is located at 14001 E. Iliff Ave. in Aurora. Hours: Mon. – Fri. 8 a.m. – 4:30 p.m.
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INTERSECTION
The gay’s gaze: Flung from space
Adam Barnhardt is a staff writer for Metrosphere and student at MSU Denver focusing on journalism and women’s studies. He is an advocate for the LGBTQIA community and an avid film-goer. He’s an artist and often looks like he’s late for a costume party. Email: abarnha1msudenver.edu
By Adam Barnhardt
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hen we use the term queer space, odds are we are talking about real tangible places where queer people can freely associate. This can be on campus, at home, at a bar, or even whole communities. But space, meaning the outer expanses of Earth’s borders are also ueer o ’m not sti in r inbo on the moon, or attempting to “out” the galaxy. What I mean when I say space is queer is that it is unknown and unknowable. It is concurrently observable yet intangible. This is all thanks to David Bowie. Am I claiming David Bowie was a queer alien? No, I have not the right. However, “Ziggy Stardust” was an androgynous rock star alien concocted by Bowie. What Ziggy represented was alienation. The feeling o not fittin in it humanity or being an outsider on this planet. Todd Haynes, the man who brought us the m nifi ent film rol lso m de film lled elvet oldmine is film very loosely follows the rise and fall of glam rock. Characters like Brian Slade and Kurt Wild were pseudonyms for David Bowie and Iggy Pop. Slade also aptly had an alien stage persona named Maxwell Demon is film t ou obviously fi tion l im ines s r ilde s le t on earth by an alien presence and with him came an artifact that sparked the queering of pop culture. This artifact, in
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the form of a green gem, inspires all who obtain it. e t e ve Mysterious S in film by re r i “Mysterious Skin” follows Brian, a young boy who has a UFO sighting and what he perceives as an abduction. In his search to recollect, he seeks assistance from his childhood friend Neil. Neil is a teen hustler who has an appetite for older men, which he claims was the result of being sexually abused by a Little League coach. Brian experiences lost time, a phenomenon associated with alleged alien abduction. In his attempts to recollect, it’s uncovered that he had actually repressed the memory of his sexual abuse by the same coach who abused Neil. st e ve Under t e S in film by Jonathan Glazer. “Under the Skin” follows an alien who takes the form of an attractive woman to sedu e nd onsume men rou out t e film the nameless alien discovers that men are very easily captured and consumed with the promise of sex. Within this body, the alien begins to disassociate with their alien identity and attempts to behave like a human. Despite its desires, it cannot physically eat human food or experience human intimacy. This culminates in its eventual demise after a failed sexual assault by a stranger. “Velvet Goldmine” is a very literal and positive understanding of this concept. It positions queer life and consciousness as otherworldly. Like this
Graphic by Ethan Casady
magical comet that crashed to earth and dispersed queerness and through it brought about a golden age of pop-culture. “Mysterious Skin” purposes that our experiences, be they consensual or not, can alienate us. Brian repressed his abuse and it manifested itself as an extraterrestrial encounter, where his friend Neil became hypersexualized by it. “Under the Skin” deserves a strict feminist analysis, because it positions one woman as a predator and men her prey. But more strikingly, it juxtaposes self-image along with its core premise. The alien chose a conventionally attractive woman to possess and in doing so experienced the highs and lows of being a woman in modern society.
“Velvet Goldmine” uses the extraterrestrial to be a metaphor for the advancement of art and therefore our culture. While “Under the Skin” tt s our sense o ob e tifi tion e osin o our attraction to aesthetic beauty is dangerous to both the viewer and the viewed. I think this is the thought tangent David Bowie had when conceiving Ziggy Stardust. He used his feelings of inauthenticity to breed something authentic. Or as Oscar Wilde put it , “A man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask and he will tell you the truth.”
The loneliness and feeling of abnormality in being queer in many ways matches our existential aloneness as earthlings. Its inability to be categorized is both its greatest quality and downfall. “Mysterious Skin” replaces the depths of space with the depths of our memories. Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6 | 11
Graphic by Maddi Troisi
IMBUE
Imbue review: “Sober Stick Figure” By Jenni Rukavina
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lcoholism is a subject that many people ve di fi ulty t l in bout or e r o ud ment or misunderst ndin mber o er t les t e sub e t in uni ue nd uir y y dis in it blunt onesty nd umor in t e orm o sti fi ures in er memoir Sober Sti i ure er style o storytellin s eds ne li t nd ers e tive on t e eelin s eo le o su er rom l o olism e erien e
I DON’T UNDERSTAND YOU.
OKAY. I’M LISTENING.
but lso be use some n be s o in s d nd even s ry ey rein or e er e erien es in di erent medium t t llo s t e re ders to see t em t rou er eyes in not er y o er’s un olo eti onesty nd sometimes d r sense o umor re te bold nd u ront yo ro in t e sub e t o l o olism S e doesn’t ti toe round t e stru les s e s ed or o di fi ult it s or er to on ront nd over ome er dise se nd t t e s me time s e m es it riority to dis uss t e benefits o er re overy S e s red er story in o es t t it mi t el ot ers
“Tozer’s unapologetic honesty and sometimes dark sense of humor create a bold and up-front way of approaching the subject of alcoholism”
ueblo born o er uides er re ders t rou er ourney o be omin st ndu omedi n t e ood nd t e b d o er rel tions i s it riends mily nd lovers nd er intern l stru le it ersel nd er l o olism
o er doesn’t old b in t e tellin o er story nd ives er re ders t e bl t nt trut bout er e erien e e m ny d r entert inin de t de yin nd il rious ne dotes s e s res m e t is story roller o ster ride o re din e erien e S e s t e bility to tell story t t m es t e re der l u out loud ile enuinely uestionin o s e m n es to survive some re rious situ tions er use o sti fi ure dr in s en n es t e story not only be use m ny o t em re uite il rious
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m one o t e lu y ones nd o e ’m s re din some sort o ositive mess e even t ou ’m bit in bout o rd it is o er s id in t e fin l ter ust don’t nt to su r o t t is s it ourse love sobriety didn’t ould drin be use ’m n l o oli
Purchase “Sober Stick Figure” on Amazon!
Danielle Cunningham Tierney In my artwork, I’m interested in magic and the role of mythology and legend in different societies over time. Recently, I read a book by Edgar Cayce generated through automatic writing. Cayce claimed to be a psychic during the early to mid20th century. He was especially concerned about America’s use of the atomic bomb. In these writings, Cayce transmitted information concerning the relationship between the mythical, ancient Atlantis and modern meri ns ll o t is in uen ed series of work I made pertaining to Atlantis and the nature-themed occupations I imagined its residents would have had.
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Atlantean Ancestor: The Geologist. Hand-cut, mixed media collage Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6 | 17
Maddi Troisi As a creative human, a designer and artist, I feel a sense of responsibility in addressing social and environmental issues. I want people to think critically and know that a ripple of change begins with the smallest gestures of kindness, courage and tolerance… the cost by the way, is free. I am Maddi Troisi and “I do not want to be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”
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Conor Baldry As I work toward a BFA in printmaking, the majority of my time is spent outside adventuring among inspirations and working in the studio as I translate those inspirations into visual windows. My art explores themes that deal with the interconnectedness between conscious and subconscious realms of thought as well as our everchanging perceptions on existence.
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Ethan Casady I have always had a passion for digital 3-D modeling and design. I aim to achieve hyperrealism in my artwork by using photorealistic textures and dynamic lighting. When creating architectural or interior 3-D scenes, I will often work directly off of a photgraph to ensure that everything is exact to the smallest detail. I try to manipulate my artwork to make the average viewer believe it is an actual photograph.
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John Wilhelm May I Get Nothing That I Desire May you get nothing that you desire, because your Kardashian Gang swung i eels over tele one ire our t er lu ury vill buyer your mother, climbed to the highest rung, so you et everyt in t t you desire You’re a pretty idiot and a dandelion liar, nd some o you’ve ot me un like high heels from a telephone wire. Inhaling your hair, burnt by blow-dryer, t e stin o vod on your ton ue your breath bellows my desire. ut you or rd not to ers ire and spend your youth trying to stay young, high heels slipping from a telephone wire. So ll or e se fire eating honey got me stung. May I get nothing that I desire. High heels falling from a telephone wire.
Coltrane Changes I take the singing drug and go downtown, it makes me see sharp, you know, be major. I take the dancing drug when I want to get down, ust minor t ste so on’t be t The skyscraper spire is a rig to the sky, the gods’ needle when they want to get high. ere’s no need to find vein no Instead, I hold the foil shiny side down. On it I can see further than the Very Large Array. oltr ne’s liver l st lon er t n ird’s but not as long as Lady Day’s. I try to outrun those Coltrane Changes. e old r lin oose es taking Giant Steps with strangers, t e e s nd v lleys li e mount in r n es n n lerfis li e me s ould st y in t e d r ’m u ly i mout lon teet s r At the bottom of the sea, light is a commodity. I catch what I need when the spotlight shines on me.
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Daniel Nelson Rae I.
e first time met you your silhouette i li ted by t e fireli t faceless, I fell in love it your l u ter Your hair leads me to your waistline. To the time I stole glimpses of your pale skin you stretched across the table Uncommon Grounds smo e filled Uptown, Minneapolis. II. Sun burnt skin along Highway 80, Nebraska. Silence each time I lit a cigarette. the truth— you ere in love it me s in love it er s in love it you Heading west, alone. ou moved to olor do Denver you offered me your bed I was with her.
III. The day we spent rafting— t e river t e movement water, melted snow. um ed in first Your hand brushed my bare skin My shoulder supported your weight. On the beach, itin s iverin you wrapped your arms around me. I walked away. IV. All day cooking, preparing, Indian spices, Indian cuisine I spent the day in the hallway, on the couch, next to the ashtray Chain smoking on the phone, with her. She didn’t know I was sleeping at your place. V. Home Silence drove out to your mom’s ouse in St ul e l ed in your mom’s garden, toes dragging in the fresh mud. o e is t e orst t in you
est
n ive someone
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Daniel Nelson Etude in E Major to start when the oak and maple trees n e t eir le ves rom reen to ruby-red and brown to the night he brought you to our apartment You found me alone; my ulino ern be uit r wrapped around me interpreting the notes from Tarrega’s Lágrima. As the last E vibr ted to its end your face appeared in my doorway; a smile, like the one I imagine inspiring Tarrega to write his Etudes in Minor only yours ould ve been written in E Major. You asked me what I was playing. Tarrega I staccato’d. Cool. you bounced away into his room. I could feel your crystal laughter—the strings vibr tin my le t nd
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nted to st rt it your love your passion for music. It crescendo’d my existence. I collected all that you offered; long talks about music theory, chord progression and harmonizing. The craft of writing dis ussed t l n S y ouse nd Caffetto. I warred with the dissonance created by my feelings for you; my loyalty to my best friend. Your depth sustained me and lost on him. e never elt t e or e when half of the soul binds to the other en t ey meet or t e first time
Kelsi Long Wunderkammer I. n t e orner t e udd sts is eyes do n voidin t e eyes o t e om n it t e uneven bre sts le s splayed against the rocks of an incomplete shore II. n olis ed l ss indo s on e s ell s elves somebody else’s copper-patina teapot, a thousand tea-times caked around the stiff upturned nostril. III. Mother’s prized necklace, hanging from brushed-nickel pins. Did her children string these semi-precious drops together, rolling chips of the blue earth in their hot palms? IV. A herd of stout stone horses, pushing against their translucent corral, legs reaching for the sunbeam leading out the door.
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Silvana Onofrio Final Throne for Rabbit 56 our oot is ll t t survives Frail and feathery remains perched upon my porch. Your death was not easy. ro en e osed bl ened blood t e l st little irs fi tin or i t end es rom es red tor’s ue sy reminder of sooty past life ponderings. our iller unted it ervor red stre it s liv ti ed teet grumbling stomach determination. s i t yi nd run si nified a hunter earning his lunch. You sprang about life till this. ll u nd t um like a battery fueled, fuzz ball of hunger and reproduction. You reek now, your death curdles my nose. Steaming in stewed sludge. Soft lumps, defecated with rot claiming rebirth returning nutrients to the earth. fin l t rone or t e b ne of another bunny slain.
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nd
Victoria Edstedt Напоследок
At Last (Translated) e ve my dre ms And maybe then we’ll forget. My absurd thoughts Ghosts of happiness beset. oy you re str n e Like a piece of ice that is hot. Deeper at night ou re s eet it vor o t rt lue rimson nd yello The sky has shades of it all. I pray for your future And you just snore by the wall. I buy a ticket with a trembling hand ut not in over o ers t e e rt t mo ns you n’t ll out o love si nd us rest rt
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Kristin Hogan A Death In November Sund y Mornin ull o o ol te overed erries in round t e fire l e Pacing back and forth. I saw the cream sheeted nested beneath your chin. The afternoon bore a corpse. o t e oors m de o ood nd bro en nees A pack of cigarettes down the street. I held my own head that night. Another Monday, this one I spent in a funeral home. The smell of formaldehyde and cheap cologne. Green carpets and curtains. A round table with empty chairs. uesd y never s o ed its Far too weak, to weep.
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et
t ee
Yeon Choi Landscape Imitation Categorizing landscape is always a struggle. Unlike portraits, the landscape can be everything that is in our environment. Any subject can form a landscape; it can be the nature, the city, people, color, perspective, dimension and even the title of the work can categorize as a landscape. This curiosity arose when I was looking at Abstract Expressionism painting. Autumn Rhythm (1950) by Jackson Pollock is one of nonrepresentational painting. According to curators, this painting is considered as a landscape because of the proportion of the canvas is in a “landscape” and the size of the canvas is a metaphor of l r e l nds e li e n o en field Another clue comes from the title even though his paintings all seem similar to one another, compared to One umber i s in uen ed by “jazz” instead of a landscape. Based on my reaction toward Abstract Expressionism, I re-created images usin rtifi i l ob e ts t t do not correspond to the actual landscape. For
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the traditional landscape photography, people usually take pictures with wide n le lens outdoors in t e o en field and trying to take pure nature. I the did opposite of traditional landscape technique and tried to mimic a scene by using a macro lens and narrow s e it rtifi i l b round by using the computer screen. For every image, there is no association with an environment, because they are found objects from everyday life, such as frames, boxes and clothes. By using a different texture, it creates an illusion of a traditional landscape. Dust on the black frame creates an illusion of night sky, the texture of a leather jacket gives an illusion of a sky view of the ocean and drought, and the edge of a box and subtle b dro illustr tes o en field on a cloudy day. This creates a whole series o rtifi i l l nds es ust s bstr t Expressionists construct viewer’s eye by adding conceptual reasoning.
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The Ocean Sky View, 2016
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Carl Glenn Payne Lately I have been getting bogged down from exposure to situations I chose to photograph, currently and in the past. To take a break from what I normally do, I started experimenting with double exposures. These double exposures are a super-imposition of two images to create a single image. I made portraits using different elements to make the photo surre l nd t e sub e t b rely identifi ble
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Victoria Edstedt In my world, every day is a deadline. If I am not out hunting for revealing stories, I am writing or shooting photos. If I’m not writing or shooting photos, I am editing. The dynamics of my life rarely allow for downtime. As a writer, dancer nd oto r er t ou find ins ir tion in little things that happen to me here and there. I dis over nd re e t t rou s es orms nd color, adding just a touch of a human element.
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Amani Newell Much like my writing, my photography covers uncomfortable subjects. My work has been called macabre, surreal and, occasionally, feminist. Either way, it is re e ion not so mu o o e see the world but what exists on the outskirts of the world we think we see.
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Matt Passant Trouble from the Start
T
he only thing of which there can be no doubt is that I was born. It was October 6, 1975, in a San Antonio hospital, the name faded from my memory’s hearing. It was a Monday. There is no knowing for the rest, not with any certainty. My parents tell the stories of their experiences and memory is leaned on more and more as time passes. Now, they tell the stories of the past recollected and mixed with others that have been committed to remembrances. Sometimes they get muddled and confused and a memory, at once solid and sure, changes, not unrecognizably so, but enough. I tell the stories that have been told to me from my memory of hearing them. It is a fault line of onst ntly s i tin round double n rr tive first theirs and then mine, a surface undermined by the opposite moving just underneath. But, does any of this matter all that much? No more so than anything else. ***
A tableau to start: My parents, standing opposite each other, a small it en t ble bet een t em t e er e t fit or space not-too-small and not-too-large. My mother, clutching the back of a chair, is slightly more than eight months pregnant with me. My father needs no chair for support, facing her. He is, from the window of photographs, different from the man I am familiar with: younger with darker hair and thinner. The discussion is about where to go for dinner. They both want Mexican food; however, they both want to go to different restaurants. My t er dvo tes or t ould find out l ter was our favorite restaurant, Don Jose’s. She wants to go somewhere new, a place that probably no longer exists. 56 | Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6
“Let’s try some place new,” she says leaning slightly on t e ir s o dis om ort ormin on er face and disappearing quickly. It remains within the niceties of civil discussion; both sides making good points, but neither convincing the other from their dug-in positions on either side of the table. s o d r ness t e slide appears.
rousel s i ts
nd
ne
The scene is the same: a table in a just right space and they are still facing each other across it. My t er o ever s moved sli tly t in t e first steps to go to the other side, his arm stretching out to my mother. She is standing as she was, but now the hand on the chair back shows smooth white knuckles, her other hand is clutching just below her belly. The expression of discomfort from earlier has returned to her face and stayed, this time with a more painful and lingering expression screwed on. The discussion ended and the food was forgotten; I was now on my way. *** I don’t know how they got to the hospital; they never tell that part of the story. In a wheelchair at the hospital I still can’t remember the name of, my mother looks uncomfortable, confused and a little angry. She is on a gurney suddenly, as if it happened in a dream. It is possible t t my im in tion is fillin in t e det ils nd s e was in neither wheelchair or gurney but walked. At the elevator, waiting to go to the maternity rd s e fin lly s s t e uestion t t s been bothering her since their arrival. “Where’s Dr. --?”
His name is lost or never related, only that the doctor was a man.
it’s been all three depending on who tells the story and when it is told.
“Where’s Dr. --?!” She looks from face to face in the elevator asking, sweat matting her hair at her forehead and temples. “Where is he?!”
A quick exam by the doctor-du-jour and we are under way. She starts to push. And again, she pushes and then pushes and pushes. Finally, the doctor (or whomever) announces that he sees something. OK. Almost there!
Only a heavy silence in response.
“It’s breech,” he proclaims.
She screams because she wants to push so bad, and there is no doctor, and no one is answering her. Frustration and pain and the presence of strange nurses overwhelm her completely; I was almost born right there in the emergency room elevator of that unremembered hospital, on my way up!
What he had seen was my ass. This would be the first but ert inly not t e l st time t t ould o ss first into t e un no n o ten onder i s that eager to come out or if I was trying so hard not to, gripping onto my mother’s womb like a cat struggling to avoid the bathwater.
I never picture my father on the elevator. He has never been comfortable in hospitals and was known to get a light-headed buzz in the presence o t e s iny ite oors nd t e ntise ti smell o the hallways. One time, as the story goes, he even fainted. He must have been with us somewhere along the way, but now, the waiting room seems more likely. I can see him settling in front of a 1970s design TV with wood paneling on the top and sides, a knob to change the channel. The game is about to start: Monday Night Football, the Dallas Cowboys vs. the Detroit Lions. *** “Where’s Dr. --?” Finally, an answer: at the golf course or in a car accident or a wedding, a party. I never remember what the verdict is, but he wasn’t there and, as e er s s to ome out ould be di fi ult birth. Due to his absence, I was to be marshaled into this world by a strange doctor or a physician’s assistant or an intern from the emergency room;
After my rear end was out, my body came relatively easy, up to my shoulders. They had to angle me like an oversized couch through a too-small door. Once that was cleared they could see the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, like a noose, more than once, my mother says. How could she know? Starting to lose circulation, I was turning blue. As fast as they could they shimmied my head out like rin t t on’t ome o s ollen fin er s out but there was only silence at my arrival. The doctor spanked me repeatedly with no results. Just when concern overran joy, I cried. I cried because I wanted to be put back, I like to think. But that may be based solely on my subsequent experiences: an apocryphal memory. Kickoff! My father, distracting himself from his own worry and discomfort, was watching the lead up to the game that night. Frank Gifford, Howard Cosell, and Alex Karras kept him company until the doctor nnoun ed my di fi ult but s e delivery into t e world. Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6 | 57
s born t m my first bre t s corresponding with a football being struck by a foot at the Dallas Cowboys’ Monday Night Football game. Unknowable, but treated as truth. The Cowboys beat the Lions, 36 to 10. You can look it up! *** Years later, in teasing me, they would joke that t eir first t ou t or n me s Mur troid t eir second Xymeltrophy. After resting and coming to her senses, dragging my father along with her, my mother suggested Bartholomew, but Bart was too disagreeable of a sound and they settled on Matthew. We named a plant Xymeltrophy. It died. *** While the events at the hospital transpired, my grandmother was at our house taking care of my sister. During the next day, she had to call 9-1-1. e ind our ouse in t e first ours o my li e a man died.
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He was mowing some open space that had a very steep incline on a riding mower at an unsafe angle; the machine tipped over and fell on top of him, crushing him. For years, afterward, his family would come on that day, and commemorate the place where their husband or son, father or brother died. ey ould l e o ers on t e e t s ot I always think of this story when I think of my birth. There is no real connection but I continue to think of his family, and I wonder if they still go to t t ouse every tober t it o ers nd remembrances of their own. Somehow, I’m sure that they do.
John Wilhelm The Molecule Effect
I
have a super power. I can be in more than one place at a time. I am actually rarely all in one place. This may sound unusual, but we all have this ability to some degree or another. I have spent countless hours cultivating this power, so I am rather advanced when compared to an amateur. It is a technique that is basically the opposite of that practiced by Buddhist monks who aspire to spend their lives in the present moment. Let me provide an example of my biolocational, or rather multilocational, talent. The Molecule Effect is presented as a coffee shop and wine bar compound. It is the last stop for any northbound aesthete, caffeine addict, or alcoholic tryin to et er fi be ore de rtin rom e rt District, and hitting Colfax and Auraria Campus. The one-way stretch of Santa Fe Drive that The Molecule Effect concludes is lined with dozens of little art galleries. There is a ballet studio, a Tai Chi Society, garages, theatres, restaurants, bars, and an abnormally copious selection of barber shops and salons. Currently, it is the most conspicuous of all these manifold organizations along Santa Fe. Namely because, visible through the window, there are probably eighty square feet of custom television s reens r idly s in ite te t over a black background. Everything about the interior of The Molecule Effect is binary. It serves coffee, which stimulates the central nervous system, and wine which acts as de ress nt t s s ientifi n me but its lls are entirely devoted to art. Even the ceiling is a dichotomy so apparent that it seems intentional. It is divided in half. Making up the eastern bisection is an old, ornate, plaster ceiling, with dozens of six inch by six inch squares, bordered by crown molding, all painted ivory, but not recently; it has begun to turn beige in some of the corners. The other half of the ceiling is composed of those generic two square foot foam panels that provide no y in most o fi e buildin s nd element ry
s ools e oor is tired s r t ed rd ood surface, which supports brand new tables, chairs and couches. One wall is old brick, faded to cantaloupe, with dirt covering sections of the gray mortar. The opposite wall has a fresh coat of paint the color of pencil lead. Hanging on this wall are the screens. The screens are what drew me in. I was driving by one night, looking to kill some time before meeting a friend, when I was struck by the panel’s luminosity My first t ou t s t t it s some modern ticker tape or something, and the people that I could see sitting in front of the screens from the window were stock-market enthusiasts who ere revie in t e d y’s fin n i l tivity over glasses of sauvignon blanc. Upon entering the establishment, I saw that the letters s in ross t e s reen ere ords not sto symbols but t ey ere s in so st ould only decode a word or two at a time before it would be replaced by another. I approached the counter and ordered a small coffee. As the barista poured the caramel liquid from a spigot centered on the shuttle I asked about the words on the screen. She explained that this was an art installation, and that the text was poetry. I sat down and looked at the ords s in or lon time ee e to i was jarring and sort of irritating. At certain intervals one of the screens would pause just long enough, that if someone were really determined, they could snap a picture. When the screen nearest my table used brie y s ble to m e out t e first e sentences. Relax. Breathe Deeply. Enjoy the present, the panels urged. I began to try to interpret what the person who created this piece was trying to convey. Something about how the modern human is constantly bombarded with images from T.V. screens and computer monitors, and it is becoming increasingly rare for someone to slow Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6 | 59
down, or depress themselves enough to enjoy something that demands to be taken slowly. Like a poem for example. As I was sitting there, drinking my o ee nd lettin t e bsorb into my bloodstream, I was leaving. Suddenly I was in an Aesthetics seminar six months earlier. I was listening to the professor give an animated lecture about Martin Heidegger’s “The Origin of the Work of Art.” He was discussing the topic of what Heidegger calls World (German: Welt). Heidegger argues that great art sets up World. orld is n tu l l e ere si nifi n e nd meaning structure the way we move around in the world from the ground up!” The professor proclaimed. So, in short World is a world of si nifi n e but it is only essible to us rom works of art. Heidegger gives an example using a painting by Van Gogh, called “Peasant Shoes.” The painting is just two black leather boots on the round but it sets ort orld o si nifi n e “From out of the dark opening of the well-worn peasant shoes the toil of the worker’s tread stares forth. In the crudely solid heaviness of the shoes accumulates the tenacity of the slow trudge through the far-stretching and ever-uniform urro s o t e field s e t by r ind n t e leather lies the dampness and the richness of the soil. Under the soles slides the loneliness of the field t s evenin lls Before I know it I am no longer in Aesthetics class. It is last June, and I am in the Impressionism Exhibit at The Art Institute of Chicago. I knew little about art and did not take it very seriously at the time. I had mostly come to the museum to see the paintings featured in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” but I forgot all about that when I saw a painting called “Young Woman Sewing” by Pierre-Auguste Renoir. It blew my ir b t first rdly even noti ed t e
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youn om n in t e ore round t s t e o ers in the background that moved me so much. They ere so ild ey ere fire or s s o fin le Explosions of ballet slipper pink, periwinkle, tangerine, pearl, scarlet, and gold, threatened to burst off the canvas, and burn the building to the ground. They gave the appearance of motion. They refused to stay in once place, and I could not look away. It was as if the painting was projecting a self-contained dimension that I had stepped into. In this realm I understood the mighty yet delicate sublimity o not only t ese s e ifi o ers nd t is s e ifi youn om n but ll be uti ul t in s rro ntly nd brilli ntly s in t eir vit lity but ll too brie y be ore so tly v nis in li e t e l st s r rom re nly to be re l ed by not er en ntin inst n e o bein s so oored had hardly ever been this moved before, and was so surprised that it had come from a 136-year-old painting. How can it be that swabs of oils inflame more fervor than a solitary landscape I can walk upon? This is a question asked by the poet Renée Ruderman. I think the answer has to do with World. What anything at all is, is for Heidegger revealed in or o rt e si nifi n e nd t e ild virile be uty o o ers is only truly v il ble to us through art. If I was actually in the same place as this v se o o ers ould not be ne rly s stirred s I was when I saw the painting. Further, Heidegger ould r ue t t more ully underst nd o ers and why they are compelling, now that I’ve had this experience. Presently, I am back in The Molecule Effect. All in one place. I am thinking about the piece in front o me e strobe li t oetry s in be ore my eyes seems to have a message that I think Ferris said best, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop
and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” But this piece did not seem to be doing anything like what Renoir did for me. It seemed more like a Public Service Announcement than an unveiling of truth. Perhaps that was not a shortcoming of the piece but rather a shortcoming of mine. Blake said, “It will be Question’d, ‘When the sun rises, do you not see round dis o fire some t li e Guinea?’ O no, no, I see an Innumerable company of the Heavenly host crying, ‘Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty.’” Perhaps if Blake was at the Molecule Effect with me the other night he could ve m de mu more out o t e s in s reens than me, the Guinea. Here I go again. Now it is last July, and I’m at MoMA in New York. At this point it has been less t n mont sin e enoir’s bl in o ers m de me a catechumen. I was working my way up to t e to oor nd s tr velin it every ie e I saw. Gauguin took me to Tahiti, Matisse took me dancing, Kahlo took me to Mexico, I am not entirely sure where Picasso took me, but he took me far, and of course, Van Gogh took me to France, just before dawn, and invited me to marvel with him at the giant, menacing stars. en ot to t e to oor o MoM t t is ere I stayed. I became stuck. There was an exhibit by Yoko Ono. It featured people underneath a sheet, and chairs and shoes painted either black or white, and cut in half. There was also a chessboard that she had cut in half. I guess she was trying to give piece a chance. I was experiencing the feeling that I would have months later looking at the screens in the Molecule Effect. I didn’t get it. I wish Blake would have been there with me to explain the si nifi n e o t ese ie es M ybe ter t t e could put on Double Fantasy and he could explain Yoko’s screaming. I felt grim looking at Yoko’s work, and I wished that I could understand it. This feeling began to multiply until I was struck by a forlornness
for John Lennon, so I decided to go to Strawberry Fields and think about all of the places his songs have taken me. I was sitting on a bench in Central Park when my phone started ringing. The sound immediately teleported me back to The Molecule Effect. I answered the phone. “¿Que onda?” the voice on the other end of line asked. “You ready to meet up?” “Yep.” “I’ll be there in twenty.” Before I left I took one last look at the screens. I thought about World and the lack thereof that this piece produced for me. My mind skimmed Heidegger and his involvement with the Nazis. I thought about National Socialism in general and then I thought about Ferris Bueller again. “Ism’s in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself. I quote John Lennon, ‘I don’t believe in Beatles, I just believe in me.’ Good point there. After all, he was the walrus. I could be the walrus. I’d still have to bum rides off people.” That cheered me up a little. Ferris was a wise philosopher and a world class aesthete, and even without a car he went more places in one day than most people do in a month. With that thought I stood up, pushed in my chair, and physically left.
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Sydney Crain Grown-up Love
E
lna’s toes dug into the olive shag carpet as she st red t t e roblem or rob bly t e fi t time that afternoon. When the body was up against the north wall, she couldn’t easily get into the kitchen and when it was in the corner, the sun re e ted rom t e di mond onto t e ndelier and then straight into her eyes in the worst way. She looked the body up and down. Sophia, fortyone years old and four years dead. Pink and plump with all of the satisfactory peaks and valleys. Hips. Waist. Breasts. Course strawberry hair. Craig’s di mond rin still on er fin er Elna met Craig on a single’s cruise. The ship motored up the Caribbean, stacked like layer cake with boys and girls looking for love. Back then Elna was a divorcee and Craig, a widower. She remembered the way she welcomed his words about Sophia over surf ‘n’ turf. “Well, we were married for twenty-one years before she died— married young.” The butter dripped from the dangling lobster onto his bib. “Had two beautiful kids though. Evan and Sam. Nineteen and— uh— twenty-two. What about you?” Something about the way the ocean swayed underne t t e bo t filled er e d it sim le pleasant fog. She could only bring herself to sweetly skim over the details of her broken union. Eight years. His affair. No children. It happened when Sophia hit her head falling into the pool during a family barbeque. Something about the sun in her eyes near the diving board. The body was shipped off and mounted at Park’s Funeral Home before they could get all of the pink out of the water. Craig’s bib moved up and down on his mountain of a belly as he explained how the original plan was “cremation” but decided that he,
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“Just couldn’t stand the thought of the kids never seeing their mom again.” Elna found the sentiment heartwarming. Craig, the family man with a taxidermy wife. Only two months later, there she was— a newlywed, barefoot on a Tuesday afternoon in the living room, tryin to fi ure out ere to ut t e old i e The body sat frozen in a blue, white and green outdoor scene. The colors were vivid and simple. She was a beautiful cartoon, legs crossed in a lawn chair reading a book over AstroTurf. The company sent their maintenance guy out earlier that morning. Elna skipped coffee with her sister to let him. She pretended not to watch while he sprayed the standard chemicals and brushed up the paint, hoping he wouldn’t notice the change in her nail color. He never did. S e s tr nsfi ed by t e y So i ’s limbs ere so easily manipulated. He held a long metal pole, moving her arms up and down and neck side to side. Making sure to service each peach crevasse, he placed her strawberry braid back upon her shoulder. The sight of Sophia’s displaced body brought back the sweet fog in her head. After he left, Elna and Sophia took to their routine. Her hands were steady and meticulous as she painted Sophia’s nails again. This time, a sort of emerald green. Though it made Elna’s empty fin er e s e s vored e o ortunity to run er fin erti s over t e or se’s di mond She rearranged the body for hours. The corner. The window. The wall. Then back to the corner. The window. The wall. The fog in her head thinned and
the day got away from her. She wheeled the case a few feet to the wall. Near the window would have to do. *** The scent of roast chicken and fresh formaldehyde swirled in the air. Elna climbed up the step stool, arching herself over the sink with the work of opening the only kitchen window in mind. Cracked white paint lined the seal. Her arms weren’t enough. The knives were in which drawer? She searched like a stranger in her own kitchen, pausing when she heard the car door slam. Craig placed his coat on the rack and tossed his keys in the dish, running his hand along Sophia’s glass casing as he moved into the kitchen. “Smells good in here!” Turning to Craig, “Where do you keep your knives?” He moved past Elna and reached for the middle island drawer. It glided open silently, revealing a set of wooden handled knives. Each were nicked and worn with years that Elna wasn’t a part of. “Right here, you can move them if you want.” He rested his palm on the small of her back. “It really smells great in here, honey.” Elna smiled and closed her eyes in preparation for his mouth on hers. He brushed his chapped lips against her cheek and began opening the mail iled on t e ounterto ln fis ed out rounded cheese knife and began working on the window. “Don’t you think it’d be nice to have some new ones?”
“Hm?” He thumbed through bills and coupons. “Knives. Jackie’s got some nice new sets in at the store. And with her discount—” “Maybe, I think the old ones still have some life in em’. Whattya cookin’?” “Well, I made chicken, but the maintenance guy came today…” Her breath shrank as she continued chipping away at the window. “I can’t stand the smell of those chemicals.” Craig laughed, “Can’t stand the smell?” Shaking his head, “and you say you want to remodel the place, now that’s a chemical nightmare.” Elna bend over and chased her breath. “Here—” Craig kicked the stool out of the way, scraping the linoleum. With a rattling of the window, a small crack in the paint grew and the cool sunset air began to settle in the house. Her face folded up like tissue paper as she smiled at him. “Thanks. Food should be done soon.” She gestured to the pile of mail on the countertop. “Did you see the rings I circled in the catalogue?” “Oh no, I didn’t. I’ll take a look later.” “Alright. I’d love to get one soon. You know, Jackie s ys it’s not re l until t ere’s rin on your fin er She let out a stale chuckle. e l ed is fin ers on er i s nd tu ed until they met his stomach. “Real? I thought you said it was romantic, getting hitched on the ship like we did.” His nose met hers and they exchanged sour air. “I thought it was.” Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6 | 63
“I did too, but-”
***
is llused t umb i ed er in li e t e eo a book. “You know if I’d known I was going to meet you, would have brought a ring on board with me.” “Your mother’s ring?’ His hands fell, the space between them grew. “You mean Sophie’s ring.” ell yes
ut
sn’t it your mot er’s first
“Elna, we’ve talked about this already. I can’t just t e t e rin o o er fin er “I know, but-“ is voi e what?”
s be innin
to fill t e room
ut
t’s fine ’m bein silly t’s ust t t ’ve ust s ent the whole day cooped up.” She looked down at the scuffed linoleum and tucked the hair behind her ears. “It’s driving me bonkers. I’m getting lunch it ie tomorro t’ll be ust fine His voice softened. “That’ll be good. I’ll take a look at the catalogue tonight- maybe we can even go downtown and pick one out this weekend.” He’d said that before. “That’d be nice.” She could feel her insides twisting over themselves in order to accommodate him. “I love you.” “You too.” There was barely a moment of silence before he crashed his hands together and is voice brightened; “Now let’s eat, huh?”
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The next morning, Elna sat alone in her yellow housedress, legs spread wide in front of the swamp cooler. She thumbed through her magazines, drinking coffee and eating strawberries while she waited for her lunch date. Every so often her eyes wandered away from the glossy pages and over to Sophia’s side of the room. The smell had since cleared and now she looked almost as real as she did in the pictures that still hung around the house— everywhere but the bedroom. She stared at the body’s ointed ite ts t en s nned t e s irt never noticing that it was corduroy before. The wrinkles in her hands were so small and delicate. What book was she reading? She couldn’t make out the words. Elna moved in closer to the body then her phone rang. Jackie’s voice crackled and squawked on the other line. “Hey babe! How are things? “Fine. I’m so excited to see you! I was thinking we could try that sandwich place on Rockford.” “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Mandy’s school just called. She got sick— threw up, actually. So now I have to go and get her. I can’t make lunch. Rain check?” The sunlight weighed down on Elna as she paced in front of the window. “Can’t Kevin pick her up? I really need to get out of the house.” “He’s in California on business. It’s just me. Oh honey, is the remodel just terrible? Why don’t you go and take in a movie or something? Craig’ll be home before you know it.”
She shook her head. “He’s working late tonight. Besides—” Her voice curled up in a sigh. “Everything okay over there? I don’t hear any workers.” “They took an early lunch. It’s a real treat to get a second of peace and quiet.” “See, that’s good. Has that louse gotten you a ring yet?” She sat back down in front of her strawberries, feeling Sophie in her periphery. “We’re going this weekend.” “I sure hope so.” Jackie laughed. “Or else you’re just going to have to get one for yourself. ” Elna mirrored her laughter. “I suppose so.” “Just be patient, the remodel will be over before you know it. Kevin and I can’t wait to come over for dinner nd fin lly see t e ouse “That’ll be nice.” “Op! Just got to the school so I’ll have to let you go. Love you! Get out of the house, go and get yourself some lunch. Bye!” Elna sat staring at her strawberries, soothed by the hum of the swamp cooler. She thought about going down to the mall and catching a matinee like her sister had suggested. Or maybe rearranging the furniture again. Or perhaps even stopping in at the jewelry store to just take a look at a ring or two.
Elna crossed her legs and turned to Sophia, tying her own hair into a thin braid that couldn’t quite reach her shoulder. In the glass of the case, Elnas e re e ted in So i ’s i e s eet o tr in paper only slightly off center, Elna’s body almost matched the one behind the case. “You know, I think Jackie’s right. Let’s take in a movie.” She spat toothpaste, sprayed perfume, and applied lipstick. She plucked white heels from the loset oor nd tore into t e dry le ner’s l sti covering of a blue corduroy dress. If there actually were real workers at the house, doing an actual real remodel, they might have been surprised to see Elna in something other than her housedress. She searched for her purse on the living room coat rack, pausing when she felt eyes on her. The body was frozen as before. “What?” Elna knew Sophia wouldn’t talk, but in that moment she desperately wanted the rules of the rational world to bend ever so slightly. Her words hardened. “I can feel you looking at mewhat is it?” She saw the white of her feet, the blue of her skirt; she saw the shine of her ring. Her body tensed and o filled er e d S e smiled nd lided ross the olive shag carpet. “I don’t think you’ll need this today.” She opened the case, Sophia’s hand felt heavier than it felt
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before when she picked it up. Her palm was glossy and dense and didn’t give in when she squeezed it. A bit of peach paint chipped when she twisted the ring loose. The band was cold and left a small s r e do n So i ’s fin er s s e y n ed it over er nu le le vin b re emer ld fin er ’m going out for a while but I promise I’ll get it back to you later.” e t on ln ’s fin er s illed out on eit er side o the gold band but she only noticed the diamond. She took a picture of the ring and sent it to her sister as if it were her own. He surprised me! S e o ted s eetly numbly bout to n t rou the afternoon and into the evening. The movies, a roast beef sandwich, a long walk home. The fog sent her to bed early with her prize still cutting off her circulation. *** She half heard the car door slam deep into the night but kept herself buried in sleep. Craig threw his keys into the dish that sat next to the coat rack.
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He reached his hand inside of the open case to stroke Sophia’s thigh as he passed through the unlit living room and into the bedroom. The worn mattress sank in as Craig laid his body next to Elna’s. She rolled over in the dark and spoke sleepily, “You’re home.” Cradling his face in her hand. Her fin er s numb e didn’t noti e t e b nd tou his cheek. He rubbed her back “Long day, long, long day. Did you have fun with Jackie?” She smiled in the dark, “mmhm” “Oh good, goodnight Soph.” Her lips on his, she stayed sweet in spite of his mistake. “Goodnight.”
Karson Hallaway The photos seen here serve as my testimony to the art of documenting reality. My purpose-driven life, which I have assigned to the role of storyteller, has led me into low-lit bars, restaurant kitchens, darkened alleyways and into the minds of Denver’s up-andcoming performance artists, all for the sake of telling the story of our city. The always within-reach, yet unattainable, moment that weaves the fabric of our lives is what drives me as a photographer and it always will.
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Line cook Cameron Baker preps for dinner service at Mercantile Dining & Provisions.
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A sign language interpreter translates to a crowd of protesters in downtown Denver on Inauguration Day.
Luke Thinnes performs live under his stage name, French Kettle Station.
MSU Denver alumnus Joseph Lamar takes a break from working on his upcoming album.
Andrea Herrera Life in Lily’s shoes While many people would fall into despair for far less, young Lily Alonso, onfined to eel ir still m n es to smile and live her life to the fullest.
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Lily ends her long day of school by enjoying alone time in her room. She shows off her avorite ortrait rom er first tra meet.
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Lily waits patiently as her bus driver begins the slow process of getting her off the school bus.
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Teresa Diaz Soriano Women in Mariachi As an aspiring photojournalist, I made it my mission a year ago to document the mariachi movement on Auraria Campus. e musi re e ts not only ie e of my culture, but it also opens a communication line to my people, in a language we both can understand. This year, mariachi music was celebrated at the Statewide Mariachi Workshop on Feb. 18 on campus. Special guests JosĂŠ and Chuy Hernandez of world-renowned Mariachi Sol De Mexico taught students and music enthusiasts the unique style that is mariachi. Kids from around the state gathered in the concert and recital halls to practice alongside the masters. The workshop opened my eyes to what mariachi culture means to the community and those who are invested in it. For me, feeling that warmth radiate from the students, of all ages, was inspiring.
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Two students from Bryant Webster’s intermediate mariachi class perform alongside other schools during the concert in St. Cajetan’s church on the Auraria Campus for the Statewide Mariachi Workshop.
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Violinists from Timberline PK-8 in Longmont pluck their strings during practice. Mariachi music is traditionally passed down through families and is played by ear and with passion. The workshop was an opportunity to teach musically literate students the style of mariachi.
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Genesis Ruiz
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Jordan Roland Portraits of addiction Colorado residents are heavy consumers of more than just marijuana. For Momma Josie, crack is her comfort. For Fresh, it’s his livelihood. is is t eir story unfiltered
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Momma Josie says she smokes crack daily to stay functional. She always has a “secret stash� of crack pipes that she keeps. If she loses one, she has another at her disposal.
A small amount of crack cocaine being broken down and processed to be distributed to buyers.
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Fresh weighs each individual crack rock on the scale to make sure that each one equals 0.20 grams.
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Nikolai Puc’ Faces of the world “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.” That quote from Ferris Bueller is the driving force behind why I pursue photography. Although it seems like a simple and useless saying, if you dive deeper into the meaning behind those words, I guarantee your life will change. The goal of this series, “Faces of the World,” was to take a strong “street portrait” of whomever I saw who struck me as an interesting individual, regardless of where I was at the time.
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What I realized while working on this series is that I couldn’t “capture the moment” unless I slowed myself down. This series is where I really took Ferris’ quote to heart and slowed down my life. Because of this, I was able to look around and not miss my opportunity for the perfect shot. I hope that in these photos you can see the emotion I tried to capture on the faces of strangers I had met only seconds before.
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Kathmandu, Nepal
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Beijing, China
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San Lorenzo, Ecuador
Chicago, USA
Agra, India
TECHNOSPHERE
Striking gold: Steve Yun, from fan to master By Keenan McCall
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ocal, adaptable and dedicated to pursuing his passion, it’s no surprise Steve Yun is a role model for anime fans and creators worldwide.
that I’m working at Harmony Gold on “Robotech,” I feel like I have an opportunity to give back to the show that helped my childhood.”
Yun has made a name for himself in the anime It wasn’t a straight shot to Yun’s dream job. In industry both as a fan and a creator. He is the 1998, he was hired on as a digital animator for an webmaster for Harmony Gold, a motion picture anime company where he worked an average of distributor and production company 80 hours each week. responsible for various anime After reaching his series, including one of his lifelong limit from working a favorites, “Robotech.” In addition record worst 100-hour to managing the content for the work week, he quit and company’s website, he also returned to college to “Find something that you provides editing for story pursue a degree in creative want to do and get good at content across comics, video writing. Through this, Yun games and movies related to found a new appreciation it. Keep practicing that rather the series. for better understanding how than focusing on getting into a a series and its creator convey a particular industry or company.” message, including in his own work. They are jobs he is thrilled to have, thanks in part to the impact “When I had screenwriting in college, –Steve Yun the series had on his a professor made it very clear to us own life. that you’re always communicating a world view, whether you’re aware of it “When I was little, or not. If you just want to make a movie we moved and one of the things that helped me bout e losions nd unfi ts nd r ses adjust as a 10-year-old to the new place I was that says something about you and what you think moving to — moving from Kansas to California — was is important. I want to make sure when I write a [watching] a lot of cartoons during the afternoon. story, I’m trying to communicate an opinion or “Robotech” was one of those things that helped t ou t t t t in is somet in benefi i l me adjust to California, not being so upset about to others, or something that is thoughtful and moving and leaving my friends behind,” Yun said. uplifting,” Yun said. t’s o met my first lose riend in li orni was through “Robotech.” He had “Robotech” toys Soon after graduating college, Yun was hired on and we started hanging out because of that. Now to work for Harmony Gold and tasked with putting
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Photo by Keenan McCall
together Robotech.com. Through punishing deadlines and nights spent sleeping on a cot in t e o fi e t e ebsite s re dy or l un in February 2001. Since then, his duties have expanded to include story editing for other types of media related to “Robotech,” from comics to video mes nd even to m or film rele ses “With the video games and the “Robotech: The Shadow Chronicles” movies, I worked as story editor on those, so I’m just looking forward to doing more of that — overseeing those stories,” Yun said. “I want to make sure there’s something we’re communicating about relationships, about war, dealing with others that are different from us.”
His biggest piece of advice for fans looking to break into a career in anime is to be aware that one should not only have a passion for something, but apply it to pursuing a skill as well. This can help them to be adaptable in how they pursue doing what they really love. “In anime, there’s always people who just want to get into an anime company just to tell their friends that they work at an anime company. You should get away from that mentality and instead get good at something, just drawing or writing or whatever,” Yun said. “Find something that you want to do and get good at it. Keep practicing that rather than focusing on getting into a particular industry or a company.”
Yun has been happy to speak with fans over the years. In addition to online communications through email and forums, he’s appeared at several anime conventions to speak directly with anime fans about is love or di erent nim ted s o s nd films s well as his experiences in making the jump from a fan of the industry to a working member. Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6 | 93
TECHNOSPHERE
Photos by Derek Gregory
In pursuit of a trivial good time By Derek Gregory
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s the daily commuter rush winds down, Denver’s bars and restaurants revup, offering distractions to workweek weary sensualists, gastronomes and adult beverage lovers. Founded in Denver, Geeks Who Drink hosts the nation’s largest pub quiz. Nationally, Geeks Who Drink hosts nightly events at 700 plus bars and restaurants in 42 states each week. Fado Irish Pub is one of Denver’s best spots to drink and be quizzed. Quizmaster Micah White serves up a new quiz here each week as players gather in small groups around the pub’s numerous high-top tables and long, cozy bar tops. A Geeks Who Drink pub quiz is eight rounds, covering a broad variety of themes and topics of general knowledge, movie, TV and music trivia. Most questions include verbal or audio clues to nudge the players along and keep the game
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moving. Players compete for bragging rights, and a few tables even win gift cards or cash prizes. None of the questions are repeated. Geeks Who Drink employs a full-time staff to ensure their questions are factual and new each week, at different locations throughout the city. “We very rarely ask rote trivia questions,” said Ken Brill, director of public relations and marketing for Geeks Who Drink. “We wouldn’t ask, ‘What is the capital of Bulgaria?’ unless we build in some kind of context into the question, like Sophia Loren, for example.” White delivers each question with a staccato of mild innuendo and a healthy portion of humor. He knows that bar-goers come to trivia night to play and compete, but also to have fun, no matter how many questions a player or team gets right. Lauren Patrick has been coming to Fado Irish Pub every Thursday for three years. She likes to play at
TECHNOSPHERE
do be use it’s do nto n t’s terrifi y to unwind at the end of the week,” Patrick said. Her opinion is echoed by many quiz regulars, who come for the fun but enjoy challenging questions that change from week to week. e om ny lso rtners it non rofits in “Quiz for a Cause.” The quiz on March 2 was for Florence Crittenton Services of Colorado, which works to educate and empower teen mothers and moms-to-be. Players never pay to participate in a quiz, except for the cost of food and drinks. On nights when the Geeks partner with a local non rofit e l yer is iven t e o tion to contribute a small amount toward it, usually $5 or $10 each. This money is earmarked for the charity, and participating players are entered into an additional prize drawing — win or lose — for a portion of the proceeds. “Last night was a blast. Our Junior Board raised a little over $225 — 100 percent of which is going to programs and services,” said Maggie McHenry, Development Associate for Florence Crittenton Services. “As a frame of reference, $100 buys a month’s worth of diapers and wipes for one child, which is a hefty expense for our young families.” With a focus on fun, food, drinks and team-based friendly competition, and in partnership with a great cause, everyone wins.
The Geeks Who Drink pub quiz is a regular event every Thursday night at Fado Irish Pub at 7 p.m. Geeks Who Drink hosts numerous quizzes each
week at locations throughout Denver (and around the country). Check out their website at: www.geekswhodrink.com for more information.
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THREADS
Branded: Lavender Elephant By Kayla Klein
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rowing up, Abbey Arabie described herself as “the art child,” and for good reason. She recalled her mother’s shocked face when she walked in on her young daughter dressed like Madonna, in a costume she had made using her mother’s hosiery. From that point forward, Arabie’s mother enrolled her in sewing camp in the summers, and even though Arabie claimed to hate it, she never lost her zeal for fashion design. In high school, Arabie made her homecoming and prom dresses using found fabrics from thrift stores and trash bins. She attended Louisiana State University to study apparel design and textile manufacturing. After college, Arabie moved to Hollywood and worked for multiple high-fashion brands. Even though her résumé was fillin u it bi n mes nd hefty responsibilities, Arabie felt disconnected from high-fashion’s money-driven operations.
restoration and other fashion design. “I do pretty much anything you need with a needle and thread,” Arabie said. But it’s not just a needle and thread that kept Arabie going. She also offers wellness services and art. By 2012, Arabie was branding everything she could get her hands on as Lavender Elephant. She conducted consumer research and concluded that she stands for products and services that come from the heart. It’s a business technique that propelled Arabie to success in Winter Park and pushed her to open a Lavender Elephant storefront in 2015. Arabie prides her brand on sustainability over consumerism. She uses found materials and thrifted items to create gorgeous, one-of-a-kind fashion and jewelry designs. In fact, Arabie hasn’t purchased any items new in over a year.
“I’m doing something that’s going to alleviate textile waste.” -Abbey Arabie
“I appreciated the artistic vision I was under, but I didn’t really understand the consumerism mindset,” Arabie said. At 22 years old, the market crashed and Arabie was faced with deciding how she wanted to use her experience and degree. She relocated to Winter Park and began doing textile and gear repairs in the space above her garage. Arabie realized fashion in the ski town was seasonal, so she expanded her offerings to include bridal services, vintage gown 96 | Metrosphere Vol 35 | Issue 6
While the sustainable slow-fashion mindset appeals to many people, Arabie must still compete with fast-fashion brands that care more about making money than about fashion wellness. Nonetheless, Arabie knew the risks when she decided to pursue sust in bility nd s e’s onfident in er bility to create products that extend beyond the landscape of mass production and consumerism. “I’m doing something that’s going to alleviate
Photos by Lisa Hall
textile waste,” Arabie said. She takes garments that are no longer wearable and transforms them into couture. Arabie seeks to share this mindset with those willing to learn. In 2013, she spent a month in Uganda with SOUL Foundation, teaching women how to resource textiles to make fashion more available. She stayed in a rural area near Bujagali Falls, where access to fabric is mainly limited to imports from the Congo. Arabie promised the women that one day she would wear something that she had made from only the materials in her room to teach them that anything can be transformed into fashion.
“I went into my room, and I made this cute skirt out o bed s irt t s ru ed nd embroidered nd I made a pair of earrings out of wire. I put the wrap skirt and the earrings on with one of my tank tops nd t ey ere oored ust oored r bie s id Arabie’s riveting past and experiences helped shape what Lavender Elephant is today. The brand’s focus on sustainability and customer satisfaction set it apart from fast fashion and most high fashion. Arabie pours her heart into every stitch she makes and her happiness radiates through the storefront and to every customer with whom she interacts.
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THREADS
Tastemaker: Alejandra Colmenero, activist and alumna By Brooke Wallinger
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find it di fi ult to re d ot er eo le le ndr Colmenero is an open book. It’s easy to tell she’s passionate about making an impact on as many people as possible. Colmenero started her journey at MSU Denver in 2009 and kept switching up her major. She fin lly ound ssion or os it lity nd enrolled in the program in 2012, concentrating in hotel management. She graduated in May 2015. During that time, Colmenero became interested in sustainable tourism. Her love for improving human rights and promoting an eco-friendly and vegan lifestyle grew through her studies. “It opened a whole different world for me when I started learning about sustainable tourism, because it really tied with the work that I do outside my volunteer work,” Colmenero said. Currently, Colmenero works in guest services at the ART hotel near the Denver Art Museum, which uses art to attract tourists. “The art theme really did attract me,” Colmenero said. “I’ve always been attracted to art since I was younger, and I’ve been wanting to get back into that environment. It’s such a fun place to work.” She brought her interest in sustainable tourism to t e o fi e en s e ound out t e otel did not have a recycling program. As a result, ART has now gone paperless with guest statements.
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“Learning about sustainable development and sustainable tourism in the hospitality department is something I always have in my mind when I’m at work,” Colmenero said. “Sustainable tourism really played a huge part of my life overall because whenever I travel, it’s also about being mindful of where I’m staying and why.” As for her personal style, in January of 2011, Colmenero became vegan after making a New Year’s resolution to start developing healthy eating habits. Her biggest inspiration? The book “Skinny Bitch.” “Skinny Bitch” opened Colmenero’s eyes to a new way of living, giving her new information about how animal products affect people’s skin, hair and nails. It helped Colmenero solidify her passion to fi t inst nim l ruelty nd romote ve n lifestyle. “I said, ‘After knowing all this information, I cannot eat animal products again.’ So, that was a turning point,” Colmenero said. “Then I started eliminating all the animal products from my diet, and then it went to, ‘All right, let’s take a look at aesthetics and the beauty products and everything that I have in my household.’ So, it’s been amazing. It’s fun to shop around for cruelty-free products. Every time some new company or product comes and it’s cruelty free, it’s just super exciting.” However, the vegan lifestyle doesn’t come without challenges. Colmenero said ordering at rest ur nts n o ten be di fi ult
Photo by Kayla Klein
“Sustainable tourism really played a huge part of my life overall because whenever I travel, it’s also about being mindful of where I’m staying and why.”
THREADS
“If it’s just a regular restaurant, I have to look at the menu and always ask, ‘Can this be made vegan?’” Colmenero said. “Aside from that, it hasn’t been hard. I think once you know so much information and you’re educated on what to eat, the nutrition and everything, it’s pretty easy.”
“I wanted to get involved with an organization that ou t um n tr fi in nd U me u Colmenero said. “In January of 2012, UNICEF had l un ed ro r m lled t e nd r fi in program. So, I read about that program, and then I read about everything that UNICEF does and I completely fell in love with the organization. So, veganism brought me to UNICEF.”
Colmenero’s vegan lifestyle has even translated into her fashion and beauty choices. Without hesitating, she said Tarte Cosmetics is her go-to makeup brand. She loves trying “I’m doing so much for different vegan and cruelty-free animals; I’m donating beauty brands for nail polish and lip products. to charities. What am
Above everything else, Colmenero puts much of her focus on her career in sustainable tourism.
“The No. 1 thing to all the new college students: Get experience right away,” Colmenero said. “When you’re in hospitality, it doesn’t matter if it’s at a restaurant, –Alejandra Colmenero at a hotel, for events. It doesn’t matter, just get the experience as soon as you can. That’s something I always put off because I always thought once you have a degree, “I was signing petitions and reading about animal that should almost be enough. But I’ve seen that in rights and I became an animal activist,” Colmenero hospitality, it’s so much about experience.” said. “And I thought, ‘I’m doing so much for animals; I’m donating to charities. What am I doing for my fellow human beings?’” Aside from her passion for veganism, Colmenero works with UNICEF and campaigns such as the Tap Water Project and Live Below the Line.
I doing for my fellow human beings?”
After doing months of research, she settled on focusing her human rights activism toward ending um n tr fi in
Colmenero’s top 10 cruelty-free beauty products
1. Gifted Amazonian Clay Smart Mascara by Tarte 2. Urban Decay Lipsticks (love all!) 3. Urban Decay Naked Eyeshadow Palettes 4. Mineral Fusion Nail Polish 5. Alba Botanica Enzyme Scrub 6. Alba Botanica Make-Up Wipes 7. Tom’s Simply White Toothpaste 8. Trader Joe’s Nourish Shea Butter Hand Cream 9. Oway Shampoo and Conditioner 10. Giovanni Organic Hair Care Line
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STUDENT & FACULTY DISCOUNT!
With your valid ID. (Happy Hour excluded)
The art of life By Nikolai Pucâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;
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THREADS
P
hotography, for me, is an endless possibility to express myself through photos and the emotions of others. If I am feeling joyful, I can photograph someone in such a way that it expresses my joy, and when I’m sad, I can produce a piece of art that conveys s dness et er ’m usin s oto r y to portray a high fashion look or using natural light to show off a hidden moment, without photography, I would not be able to share my opinions and feelings
of life to the extent that I do. The photos in this spread are just a few of the delicate moments that I am blessed to capture everyday. Photography allows me to free my mind and see the little moments I would have normally missed. As the wise Ansel Adams once said, “There are always two people in every picture: the photographer and the viewer.”
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51 BROADWAY - DENVER 226 E 13TH AVE - DENVER 1813 PEARL ST - BOULDER