Thoroughfare Fall 2010 by Thoroughfare Magazine

Thoroughfare Magazine

THOROUGHFARE

a multimedia literary arts magazine

Fall 2010 Edition

GET PUBLISHED IN THOROUGHFARE 1. Paint a picture. Write a story. Compose a musical piece. Take a photo. Create a work of art.

2. Submit your artwork to thoroughfare.mag@gmail.com as Windows-readable (.doc, .docx, .jpg, .mp3, .fld, etc.) attachments. ***

3. We review your submission(s) with a committee of specialized and dedicated staff members.

4. If we like your submission(s), your work will be published in the CD and online version of Thoroughfare Magazine. 2

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THOROUGHFARE a multimedia literary arts magazine Thoroughfare is a multimedia literary arts magazine catering to the diverse creative pursuits at Johns Hopkins University. Published once a semester on CDs and online, Thoroughfare showcases the best of student fiction and poetry, as well as music, film, art, and audio recordings of readings. Check out our website for more information: web1.johnshopkins.edu/thoroughfare/

*** Please submit all visual arts in the highest possible resolution under 5MBs. Feel free to include additional comments and/or information about your submission(s) such as medium, subgenre, background description, etc.

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THE STAFF Executive Board President Alexis von Kunes Newton Vice President Jean Fan Secretary Ann Wang Treasurer Gabrielle Barr Publicity Chair Kathryn Alsman Webmasters Curry Chern Jean Fan

Editors Editor-in-Chief Alexis von Kunes Newton Poetry Committee Gabrielle Barr (head editor) Isaac Brooks Eva Gurfein Jennifer Hui Alexa Kwiatkoski Christina Luk Leemor Nir Kiran Parasher Ann Wang Jessica Yoo Prose Committee Jerusha Barton (head editor) Shoshana Akabas Meaghan Bresnahan Allessandra Bautze Hillary Jackson Briana Last Doyen Kim Michael Nakan Kate Orgera Vicky Plestis Katherine Seger Sharon Sun

Art Committee Jean Fan (coeditor) Curry Chern (coeditor) Julia Bradshaw Georgina Edionseri Alexandria Kim Anna Kleinsasser Caren Lewis Luma Samawi Ava Yap Film/Music Committee Curry Chern (head editor) Kunal Ajmera Michael Nakan Emily Schiller Web Committee Curry Chern Jean Fan Rachel Louie Layout Committee Jean Fan (head editor) Curry Chern Hillary Jackson Diana Xu

Interested in joining the Thoroughfare staff? Just send an email to Thoroughfare at thoroughfare.mag@gmail.com and request an application. No experience necessary; just enthusiasm!

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TABLE OF CONTENTS 06 Audiophile by Ava Yap

Dinner Party by Angela Hu

Cognitive Dissonance by Shayna Abramson

Tai O, Hong Kong by Brittany Leung

Deja Vu (remix) by Charles Zogby

Storm Approaching by Diem Vu

ASDF by Charles Zogby

A Typical New York by Farhad Pashakhanloo

10 Perfume by Jean Fan

Snapshot Saigon by Diem Vu

Audition: Take One by Angela Hu

An Evening, Late September by Colleen Dorsey

Fragile Beauty by Karla Hernandez Cuevas

Weeping Wisp by Sindhoora Murthy

Breakfast Time by Jean Fan

Locked by Sindhoora Murthy

La Porte Jaune by Kathryn Alsman

Stormy by Diem Vu

18 Villanelle of Silence and Indecision by Colleen Dorsey

Self Recognition by Farhad Pashakhanloo

Outside My Window by Jean Fan

Entropy by Kathryn Alsman

Bird with Flower by Thanapoom Boonipat

Vineyard 1 by Vanessa Verdine

General Guan Yu by Thanapoom Boonipat

Bartender by Angela Hu

Full Moon Flying Duck by Thanapoom Boonipat

Duet by Jean Fan

Opera by Ava Yap

Victoria Harbour, Hong Kong by Brittany Leung

A Summer Reunion by Angela Hu

Bubble and the Kid by Farhad Pashakhanloo

Thoughts of Commerce by Kathryn Alsman

Heinz Baumann Emulation by Brittany Leung

Memory’s Price by Isaac Brooks

Good Times by Kimia Ganjaei

The Voice in Your Throat by Kaetan Vyas

Brushes by Kimia Ganjaei

30 Psalm by Shayna Abramson 32

Peacock by Thanapoom Boonipat

Mothra by Alex Neville

Flower of the Sea by Ryan Bickley

Otherworldly by Diem Vu

Me So Sleepy by Curry Chern

Yosemite by Jean Fan

Majesty by Samuel Cook

Obeisance to the Sun by Sindhoora Murthy

45 My Back Porch in Arizona by Lauren Adelaida Villa 46

An Olive Branch by Michael Nakan

New World by Angela Hu

Palace in the Sky by Sindhoora Murthy

Sandbox by Jiyoon Kim

90 Screams for Tina – One Last Show at the Viper Room! by Chelsea Rinnig 92

Unmoved Mover by Eric Luitweiler

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on the cover:

Audiophile by Ava Yap

Visual Art (Mixed Media)

Additional information: Lineart and hair done with ink pen. Colored in Photoshop.

Cognitive Dissonance by Shayna Abramson Poetry

At times I wish I did not believe in heaven; no comfy white chairs, or floating clouds that puff around your body like feathers, no loversâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; eyes. I would rather the brown earth, mud bubbling beneath pouring skies, the nitrogen from my body seeping into roots of roses like sweet dreams on fall evenings. For then there is no possibility of hell, my life played over in a loop-de-loop of broken film; each curse, each scream, each woman I made cry. Then there is no fear of living with the knowledge of all I could have accomplished and did not, no fear of living with the knowledge of what could have been, even after death, which they call the great escape, not realizing that God is sitting there laughing, or crying, and His tears are so silent we do not hear them fall. Atheists say that man created heaven, forgetting perhaps that while man has an infinite capacity to create diversions and drunk debaucheries, his ability to create means for confronting himself is rather limited; even pen and paper prove fickle and unworthy of the task. I would rather I did not believe in heaven or hell, or maybe even love, but only lust and the thrill of your hands on my breasts, closing my eyes to the beating of your heart, and a rush of thighs.

Music with MATL

Although MATLAB is intended primarily for numeric computation and data visualization, Cha pieces by clicking on the links below:

Deja Vu (remix) ASDF

Artist’s Comments:

All songs were made with the MATLAB mathematical programming language using sine waves for the tones and white

Deja Vu (remix): This is a re-make of the song “Deja Vu” from last year’s Thoroughfare. This time, it was made using m cians of the sub-genre of electronic music called Chiptune where musicians use old video game hardware to create new sentation in New York City and Philadelphia, where there are often live performances.

ASDF: This song actually will not sound right if your speakers don’t have any bass frequencies, because each note only

LAB?

arles Zogby has used the mathematical programming language to make music. Listen to his

stock image

courtesy of

n on sxc.hu

Peter Suneso

e noise for the drums.

music-programming software written for the original Nintendo Gameboy, called LSDJ. LSDJ is commonly used by musiw music with the unique sounds that were characteristic of those systems. The chip tunes scene has its largest repre-

y has one frequency component, and the bass line uses bass frequencies.

Perfume

by Jean Fan Photography (Digital)

Additional Information: Camera model: Nikon D80 Camera lens: Nikon 50mm F1.8 Nikkor

: N O I T I E D N U O A KE TA

Artist’s Comments: Self portrait. Manual focus. Christmas lights in the background.

by Angela Hu

Prose (Short Fiction)

She would not have been completely intolerable, he surmised, had it not been for the colored contacts, bleached hair, her insistence that she was quadrilingual (she was, in fact, no such thing), her reduction of all true emotions to play-acting gestures, and her special brand of idiocy and self-importance mixed with a borrowed vocabulary (Quote: “I don’t understand the stigma against plastic surgery if it makes you hot”), her period of rapping and dressing gangster (to which he could only ever say, “You’re not black”), and lest he forget, the home-grown marijuana. On a second thought, the only part of the woman that was royal was her royal attitude problem. As Helen, turned Helena, and now referred to solely by her Korean name Ha-Neul, finished describing her regal family lineage to the captivated casting committee, Gael buried his face into his palm and massaged his temples. “So you see, I am actually a princess. Every girl’s dream come true.” She smiled with her eyes creased shut, tilting her head to one side like a kawaii kawaii fucking Harajuku doll. Gael repressed his urge to barf right then and there. It was enough that she was accepted into his college with her tanked, stoner GPA and “my hard-working dry-cleaning immigrant parents” sob-story. Now she was trying out for actThoroughfare

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ing positions for student films, and as an accomplished student director, and the only one on the committee who had known her all through middle school (when she was normal, thank god) and high school (when she went flipping out of her mind psycho) it was his duty to reject her ass before she could parade her mediocrity across his screen. The film professor, Professor Wilkins, commented on how it was so unexpected to be in the presence of royalty, and Gael all but burst out laughing right there. “Tell us again how you’re a mix of Chinese, Japanese, and Korean blood again?” Gael asked stalely, not expecting an answer. He kept glancing at his watch to count the minutes he could have spent writing his term paper instead. “I’m only one-sixteenth Chinese and one-sixteenth Japanese, so I’m mostly Korean. But you would know this, Gael. I told you back in eighth grade, jì de ma?” “Oh, you’re just one fascinating factoid after another,” the professor interjected, as if he’d never looked ethnic diversity in the eye before. “Forgot.” Gael answered with a shrug. What he did remember was her constant copying of everything he 12

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did. When he started drawing manga, she started drawing manga and butchering Japanese. When he switched to designing, she amassed tomes of her ugly dress designs, and told the whole school she’d put on a fashion show. Three guesses whether it happened or not, and the first two don’t count, Gael would always tack onto each retelling of the story. When he landed an internship at a graphics company, Helena followed suit. And now, Gael was sure that the perfect medium for his art was film, and here Helena was, like a wrecking ball aimed at his life. And it was so like her to tag on some Chinese just for him. Being half-Chinese and half-Scottish, it was a sore point that Helena used more Chinese than he did. The professor, genuinely impressed by her looks, if nothing else, fumbled for a stapled screen-play of their production, “My Life After Simon” written by Gael. “Here, Ha-Neul.” He struggled to pronounce. “How about you take a stab at reading the main part of Emily with me? Just read over it first and let us know when you’re ready.” She curtsied, raising the usual pitch of her voice a few decibels to appear younger than she was. “Thanks, kamsamnida, arigato gozaimasu, and xie xie!” she piped. Gael tapped his pencil roughly, gloomy enough that the part was being made into a female role when he had clearly intended the role to be for a gay male, such as himself. While the rest of the film students in the production club liked the choice, it had been shot down by Professor Wilkins, a “staunch” Methodist. He probably liked the fucking Twilight movies, Gael seethed. In the emotional climax of the scene, when Emily was expected to cry, Ha-Neul produced a sound akin to a kicked puppy tumbling down creaky stairs. Wilkins doled out unconditional praise like Dean Corll’s candy bars, and Gael knew that with the limited number of actors, Ha-Neul was assured a spot on the cast, if not the lead female role. This is it, Gael thought. His screenplay had been bowdlerized beyond recognition. It now had the stamp of approval from Wandering Eyes Wilkins and would star Helen-Helena-Ha-Neul, and he wondered now why he had wanted to be in the film society at all. Gael was sure no one could direct through the bureaucratic bullshit. Between a span of seventeen minutes, he had counted, his brainchild had been raped and murdered, and no member on the committee had the balls to face Wilkins on this matter, not even himself. With the auditions over, Gael rose from his seat to leave...only to find Helena blocking his path out the door.

“Hey,” she said, “do me a favor?” “Good to see you too. I’ve been swell. How about you? Oh, wait. You didn’t ask me how I was, you asked me to do you a favor. In that case, NO.” “Gael, come on. I know I got in with a bad crowd, but I want to eradicate the past and press the reset button, ‘kay? Look, I’m not here to get your forgiveness or follow you around like in high school. I’m done with copying you, aight?” “Then what are you here for? Because you suck at acting.” “Yeah, yeah. My friend in film studies has been harassed by Wilkins from day fucking one. And she knows he’s got this thing for Asians.” “That’s...disgusting. He’s a relic.” “Yeah. So do me a favor, and walk into the film closet in about ten minutes, ‘kay? I want to get back at him for all the girls who can’t speak up, y’know?” “You willing to take it that far?” Gael asked warily. Helena turned and shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t done before.” Gael realized that with her lips glossed in a cherry hue and hair worn in French braids, her look was much younger than her norm. Under the professional studio lights, Helena’s eyes shone with a false silver glow that was much icier than he had seen them just minutes before during the audition. He frowned at his own inattention now, seeing her glide up to Wilkins with all of the personalities she had donned throughout her life in tow. Perhaps she was a much better actor than he had given her credit for. He shook his head and the briefly positive thought away, thinking, “fuck all.” Gael looked down at his screenplay, sighed, and waited.

. . O O O

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Fragile Beauty

by Karla Hernandez Cuevas Photography (Digital) Additional information: Camera model: Nikon D3000 Camera lens: 18-55mm Nikkor Focal length: 55mm F-stop: f/8 Exposure time: 1/500 sec. ISO speed: ISO-200 Artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Comments: Natural outdoor lighting. Polarizing filter. Manual focus handheld. Blue paper used for surface, glycerine for making the droplets. Desaturation of all tones except cool tones in post editing.

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Breakfast Time

by Jean Fan

Photography (Digital) Additional information: Camera model: Nikon D80 Camera lens: Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro Focal length: 90mm F-stop: f/4.0 Exposure time: 1/30 sec. ISO speed: ISO-100 Artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Comments: Minor curve editing in GIMP to enhance contrast.

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la porte jaune By Kathryn Alsman

Visual Art (Traditional Art) Additional information: Colored pencil drawing

Villanelle of Silence and Indecision by Colleen Dorsey Poetry (Villanelle)

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I haven’t seen you in days, but when you call, I come. In bed, you ask me why I sigh. I don’t know how to answer you at all. The week goes hard, and you begin to pall in my mind, your silence souring you. But you’re sly. I haven’t seen you in days, but when you call me ‘rabbit’, what can I do? You forestall my neglected pouts with whispers, stroke my thigh… I don’t know how to answer you at all. Despite myself I miss you, miss your small moues when we tease, the way your hair’s awry. I haven’t seen you in days, but when you call, I come and roll around with you and sprawl on your bed. There’s something new you’d like to try? I don’t know how to answer you at all. You love my dishabille the best, the fall of my straps and hair. I guess I realize why. I haven’t seen you in days, but when you call, I don’t know how to answer you at all.

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Outside My Window by Jean Fan

Photography (Digital) Additional information: Camera model: Nikon D80 Camera lens: Nikon 50mm f/1.8 Nikkor Exposure time: 1/30 sec. Exposure bias: +3.0 ISO-speed: ISO-100 Artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Comments: Self portrait. IR remote. Natural window lighting. Multiplied yellow layer at 50% opacity in GIMP.

Chinese Paintings by

Thanapoom Boonipat

Bird with Flower

by Thanapoom Boonipat Visual Art (Traditional Art)

Additional Information: Chinese painting

General Guan Yu

by Thanapoom Boonipat Visual Art (Traditional Art) Additional Information: Chinese painting

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Full Moon Flying Duck by Thanapoom Boonipat Visual Art (Traditional Art) Additional Information: Chinese painting

About the Artist Thanapoom Boonipat, a student from Thailand and a BME undergraduate 2011, has been painting Chinese paintings since he was 9-10 years old. He studied Chinese paintings with a private tutor and in classes in China and Thailand. In addition to exhibitions at JHU and publication through Throughfare, Boonipat has exhibited his paintings in national events on numerous occasions. He has donated proceeds from paintings sales to various hospitals and charities such as Siriraj, the largest and oldest government hospital in Thailand, and the JHU Childrenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Hospitalâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s affiliated organizations. Want to be featured? Include a short biography with your submissions to Thoroughfare. All medias (poetry, prose, film, music, visual arts, photography, and more!) can apply.

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Opera by Ava Yap

Visual Art (Traditional Art/Mixed Media)

Additional Information: Acrylic, pen and tissue paper on canvas.

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stock image courtesy of Sarah Barth at sxc.hu

Psalm by Shayna Abramson Poetry

Dear God, please grant me a poem out of this: I twist the knife in my hand, its light playing upon my fingers. You laugh, your fingers scything through oysters. Reflected through the steel sheen: diamond earrings, rocks hard enough to rip your larynx like a lily. Your hands were whiter than lilies when they crawled up my neck like a fly. The knife squirms against my palm â&#x20AC;&#x201C; its light plays upon the pink petals of your fingers. My mother taught me never to scythe flowers - only wheat, a sheet of gold drier than the hair of corpses, on which I once burnished my body with yours.

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Peacock

by Thanapoom Boonipat Visual Art (Traditional Art) Additional Information: Chinese painting

Natural Selection a collection of artworks Inspired by Nature

Mothra by Alex Neville Poetry

Her rainbow-wings fill the twelve inch screen. A dragon made of foam and rubber lets loose atomic flames, and she falls from heaven to earth. Her limp body, a hollow, plastic prop guided by wires, comes to rest on her egg, and the empty-headed insect shows a mother’s love for her larvae. I saw a moth fluttering by, from the kitchen to the porchlight. “Stupid moth,” said my father. There was a bucket of water beneath the light, full of moths compelled to fly into the false, electric moon they saw on its surface. On TV, two cartoon birds kissed like people. I heard my brother cry. Mother picked him up quickly, and automatically began to wrap his small, pink form in a white blanket, and as he became a sleeping, motionless bundle of cotton, I wondered if she could do otherwise.

Flower of the Sea by Ryan Bickley

Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Canon EOS Digital Rebel XT Focal length: 80mm F-stop: f/5.6 Exposure time: 1/80 sec. ISO speed: ISO-800

Otherwordly by Diem Vu

Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Olympus u830/S830 Focal length: 6mm F-stop: f/3.3 Exposure time: 1/60 sec. ISO speed: ISO-63

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Me So Sleepy by Curry Chern

Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Olympus EVOLT E-410 Camera lens: Olympus 40-150mm f/4.0-5.6 Zuiko Focal length: 123mm F-stop: f/5.6 Exposure time: 1/40 sec. ISO speed: ISO-1600

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Yosemite by Jean Fan

Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Olympus EVOLT E-410 Camera lens: Olympus14-42mm f/3.5-5.6 Zuiko Focal length: 22mm F-stop: f/4.5 ISO speed: ISO-100 High Dynamic Range imaging (HRDi) 4 exposures compiled using Picturenaut Exposure bias/time: +1 step; 0.77 sec. Exposure bias/time: 0 step; 1/2 sec. Exposure bias/time: -1 step; 1/5 sec. Exposure bias/time: -2 step; 1/10 sec. Artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Comments: Minor color balancing and tone editing in GIMP.

Want your work featured? Include a description of the techniques, tools, or just thought process that went into your work along with your submissions to Thoroughfare. All medias (poetry, prose, film, music, visual arts, photography, and more!) can apply.

Majesty

by Samuel Cook Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Samsung PL50 Focal length: 12mm F-stop: f/13.2 Exposure time: 1/90 sec. ISO speed: ISO-100

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My Back Porch in Arizona by Lauren Adelaida Villa Poetry I am the Mountain Chickadeeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cheer song, bare feet on cold cement. I am summer liquor, boozing in the sloshes of SpruceFirs, Desert Scrub, Juniper and Ponderosa Pines. I am the afternoon thunderstorm, soft whispers of neighborhood hikers, I am a granddaughter homethe deep booming hoot of the Great Horned Owl, white feathers ruffled, the favorite roost and perch spot, the smell of earth, showered. I am sunset shadow and the spiderâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s silver, laced in sudden snow.

Obeisance to the Sun by Sindhoora Murthy Photography (Digital) Additional information: Camera model: Canon EOS Digital Rebel XS Camera lens: Canon EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 IS Focal length: 55mm F-stop: f/5.6 Exposure time: 1/2000 sec. ISO speed: ISO-800 Thoroughfare

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An Olive Branch a film by Michael Nakan

click to watch

stock courtesy of Swetko Qwertz at sxc.hu

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New World by Angela Hu

Prose (short fiction) Señor Domínguez was not dearly missed when his body resurfaced beneath the docks in the Guadalquivir River this July. Few witnessed the discovery of the floating corpse due to Sunday Mass, though they would have derived some morbid absolution from his plight. Seville was rife with talk of the new world, of savages, of fortunes to be had, but these burgeoning tales could not yet rival the news that Domínguez was dead. He had it coming, some might say. A no good gambler. A swindler. No better than a common thief. He had shifty eyes, others would add. By the time he was discovered by some poor tannery apprentice and his sweetheart, his carcass had bloated to twice its size, was scored in pecks from seagulls and pigeons, and the flesh atop his cheekbones and shoulders were beginning to slide off his bones. The tannery boy vowed never to shirk his duties, cupping a hand over his mouth as he gagged. His companion was seen better off, looking in the way of a crew of sailors who immediately bought netting and long poles to fish the man out. It seemed that the last to know of the body were the man’s second wife and son, when it was carted over to their home. “I don’t care what you do with him, but I will not be responsible for the bastard’s funeral.” No one knew what to say, but an old fisherman amongst the group stepped forward saying, “He is your husband, Señora. His death must be honored so his soul may rest in peace.”

To which the group observed her twisted lips scathingly asking after whether the bastard ever afforded her any peace. “Sink him with stones. Scuttle him like those wrecks in the shipyard. I never want to hear of him again!” The son was the only one still sympathetic towards his father. Tulio Santiago Domínguez was fourteen years of age and had the luxury of a private tutor for only the first years of his education due to his father’s gambling with the sailors, all gathering to explore the new world. The other children all knew of Tulio, because he spied on their classes outside the window. He practiced his writing by tracing words with water on the walls outside, reciting Latin under his breath. He was a testament to personal motivation. His father only ever took him from dice games to cock fights. His mother, the poor bird, had long since died of malaria and could not voice her dissent, and the Señora no longer slept in the same bed as her husband. Who was she to care for another woman’s son? No one said a word to her for throwing him out after the body floated up, though they prayed for her eternal soul during mass. Only one with a icy heart and a jealous, barren womb could resist the boy’s charm, they said. It was not the sort of charm anchored in physical appearance: his ears were large like whelk shells! It was rather the nature of his origins, wellknown within certain quarters in Seville, that opened hearts and pockets to the sound of clacking dice, and his challenge to best him in a game of Hazard. Busy folks passed by, walking faster as they approached him. The sun was high in the square, packed with merchants selling spices and silk, musicians singing of distant lands, and soothsayers, trying to make a living from natural curiosity. Tulio was the only dice roller, standing alone to one corner. He called, “Come one, come all. Test your skill against the son of Domínguez himself! Can you roll big? Do you trust in your fate? Come all, come all! Good sir, would you fancy a roll? One roll of the dice would pay for my dinner. Or it may make you all the richer! There is nothing to lose!” One young musician in the square stopped his singing and walked over to Tulio with his gittern tucked under his arm. “I’ve heard of you,” the blonde teen said, looking Tulio up and down. “That’s not how it’s done though, my friend. I’m surprised you eat at all, shouting out your father’s name like that.” Falling into a steady silence quite unlike his calls for business, Tulio tossed his dice in his left hand. “Could you not crowd around me? You’re driving away my customers.” “What customers?” the other teen asked. “They’ll come.” Looking at the blonde teen, Tulio fought the urge to stamp on his feet and run in the opposite direction, and find another square to swindle people in. The other boy’s expressions seemed to him to resemble a stray dog. More accurately, an overly excited puppy. “Not if you tell them it would pay for your meals! No one likes a beggar.” “I’ve had enough time on the streets to know what people do or do not like, and it isn’t nosy self-important people like you.” Shaking his head, the blonde laughed. “You’ve been here for a week since your mother threw you out! Others have come before you.” Tulio seethed. “The bitch was no mother of mine. I’m tired to people feeling sorry for me for being thrown out. Tired of everyone who seems to have forgotten that his body was tossed back into the river. I know my father wasn’t a good man, but he had a better heart than that hag. Now, are you here to play games with me? Because the only game I’m interested in is Hazard.”

“Easy there. I’m just trying to help. You look like a skeleton under your clothes. You can’t put all your faith in winning Hazard!” The other boy tugged at Tulio’s thin blue shirt, frayed and worn around the edges. He himself was dressed in red and looked to be eating well. “If I had any faith,” Tulio began, leaning into the blonde’s ear, “I would not be playing with loaded dice.” The teen’s eyes widened for a brief second before his lips curled into a smirk. “And how far to you plan on getting before people start catching wise?” “Rich enough to skip town. Perhaps get inland and away from this heat,” Tulio answered, pocketing his dice. “Leave Seville? You must be mad! This is the town people are moving their entire lives to!” The teen waved his gittern with each wild gesture. “Hardly. They come for the new world, not Seville.” “Seville is the door to the new world. Can’t you appreciate how close we all are to our fortunes here? Imagine what it would be like to find gold and come back richer than the King of Spain himself!” At this, the boy strummed the gittern, accompanying the fantasy he had woven. “Suppose it’s true. Where would we fit in that picture? Only Spain’s finest can make the journey. As if a penniless gittern player would be allowed to go. What’s your name, kid?” Tulio asked. The eccentric teen held out his hand. “Miguel,” he answered. “Call me Miguel.” Somehow in the gittern player’s strong grip, Tulio found it easy to forget his recent tragedies, and the watching eyes of Seville’s underbelly. “Miguel,” he said, “I’m Tulio.” “I know,” Miguel said, tucking his gittern back under his arm. “I’ve heard of you.” Tulio walked out in front of him, off in the direction of the baker with the few coins he had won during the day’s efforts. With a glance back to the smiling musician, he answered, “Don’t believe everything that you hear.” In its echo, Miguel heard, “I am not my father. We will not be disregarded.”

stock courtesy of Billy Alexander and Kriss Szkurlatowski at sxc.hu

Palace in the Sky by Sindhoora Murthy Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Canon EOS DIGITAL REBEL XS Camera lens: Canon EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 IS Focal length: 18mm F-stop: f/10 Exposure time: 1/250 sec. ISO speed: ISO-100

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Sandbox

by Jiyoon Kim Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Olympus PEN E-PL1 Focal length: 14mm F-stop: f/3.5 Exposure time: 1/60 sec. ISO speed: ISO-200

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Dinner Party by Angela Hu Poetry

As a kid I wore out sandals and father’s razor-thin patience (how was I to know he was a full-time student, full-time worker full-time father, and part-time cook?) and pecked like a songbird at the hearts of bok choy ignoring the Mandarin lectures and clicking of tongues. I earned myself prolonged sermons about the zai hai famines under Mao’s Great Leap Forward and the fanatical Red Guards who ransacked bad elements’ homes, tearing apart the four olds during the Cultural Revolution, but their suffering, repeated back, only bored me. I only had an appetite for dinner parties, not revolutionary tales. With my nerves taut like violin strings, I would hide underneath the wood table crafted by my parents’ hands, crouch near the legs, & peer into the tiled kitchen. I’d watch the cleavers fly, the black wok spark against the flame, as sesame oil lept arabesque onto 56

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unsuspecting skin, only to come out at last for my parents’ special guests. With the door thrown wide open, they arrived in a parade. Immigrants. No, friends, they knew by name, by year of arrival, by alma mater, by motherland & by province. I was told to fetch the creased tablecloth, the crisp blue bowls, & matching cups barely larger than a thimble. Kneeling on my seat, to match their height I was the sole heir to their generational lessons, though most of their rice wine fueled diatribes flew beyond my notice. Food and spectacle simply turned their sent-down stories appealing. I would gaze up at their gnashing jowls, merrily singing of red sunsets, and stare amazed as my father slurred his words. Matching their speech, I proposed a toast with my short arms raised. Tongzhimen! Gan bei! Through their laughter, I saw tears mix into their cups.

Tai O, Hong Kong

by Brittany Leung Photography (Digital)

Additional information: Camera model: Nikon D40 Focal length: 18mm F-stop: f/5.6 Exposure time: 1/125 sec. ISO speed: ISO-200

Thoroughfare

Fall 2010

Storm Approaching by Diem Vu

Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Olympus u830/S830 Focal length: 10mm F-stop: f/4 Exposure time: 1/800 sec. ISO speed: ISO-64

Fall 2010

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Fall 2010

A Typical New York

by Farhad Pashakhanloo Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Nikon D90 Focal length: 21mm F-stop: f/7.1 Exposure time: 1/50 sec. ISO speed: ISO-250

Fall 2010

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Snapshot

Saigon

Blinding sun reflec Poetry ts off of The air is moto th And smo ick with exhaust rcycle mirrors. ke from p f ork fat d rom choked street And the ripping o s cries of v n t e o n ch d And the vaporous ors sitting on brig arcoal rem ht plastic On the ed stools ges of the nants of summer r a a Of discar i l ded veget leys next to piles n. ab A little g irl carryin les and fish bones . g a baby Pounding s e lls on the sid es of tour lottery tickets, Destinat ion va A scooter s of magic springs ns that promise a carries a family of nd fairy caves. Another six, bal And anot ances a refrigerato her carrie r, s a flock All hung of sn by A woman their feet and blin ow-white ducks, ki w Cracks be ith sad eyes sits o ng without protes nt t. ef A scrawn bones with a clea he ground and ve y cat disa ppears in r. to a drain . stock co

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by Trang

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Diemâ&#x20AC;? V

Thoroughfare

Fall 2010

An Evening, Late September by Colleen Dorsey Poetry (Sestet)

We finish the Chinese – or rather, you do, packing up my picked-at kung pao beef for leftovers. Grunting, you push your drawers (our table) back into place, and flop on the bed with relief. “I swear it got heavier,” you say, but you’re just unable to move with that adorably bloated stomach. Who paid for it, ate it. Into the sated quiet, you ask, “Do you know the game cuarenta?” No – so you teach me, eagerly pulling the eights and nines and tens, shuffling and dealing our hands in a flow of familiar agile motions. The battle lines are drawn. You say you’ll go easy. I don’t buy it. You’re pitiless and sweet, laugh at my blunders, crow when you win, and never break a sweat – but you teach me, patient: draw from here; if you’re got a four, throw it; why aren’t you taking your ten? With each defeating round the cards get more and more spread out across your puffy quilt, a slow pervasive cramp sets in my side, and my pride begins to chafe. But three games later, you’re no longer winning forty/six. You’ve taught me well, and when I beat you you’re not sore, you’re proud. The win is great, but dearly bought, despite the gratifying kiss you provide. I wish I could unlearn the game. I’d rather lose. You squeeze my naked knee when you burn my throw, you laugh like that, and when I glower over my hand, you draw a line up my thigh with your toe. Will you teach me again? Over and over? Will you help me live a lovely autumn ruse?

Fall 2010

Thoroughfare

Weeping Wisp

by Sindhoora Murthy Photography (Digital)

Locked

by Sindhoora Murthy Photography (Digital)

Thoroughfare

Fall 2010

Stormy by Diem Vu Photography (Digital) Additional information: Camera model: Olympus u830,S830 Focal length: 6mm F-stop: f/3.3 Exposure time: 1/500 sec. ISO speed: ISO-64

Self Recognition

by Farhad Pashakhanloo Photography (Digital)

Fall 2010

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Fall 2010

Entropy

by Kathryn Alsman and Riley Alsman Photography (Digital)

Fall 2010

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Fall 2010

Vineyard 1 by Vanessa Verdine

Photography (Lomography) Additional information: Mini Diana, 400 ASA film

Fall 2010

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bartender by Angela Hu Poetry

i hear you’re thirsty for pure intentions no scar-covered walls, ‘white’ lies all platitudes & raw nerves i might have something for that

Thoroughfare

Fall 2010

Duet

by Jean Fan Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Nikon D80 Camera lens: Nikon 50mm f/1.8 AF Nikkor Exposure time: 1/2 sec. ISO speed: ISO-250

Fall 2010

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Fall 2010

Additional information: Camera model: Nikon D40 Focal length: 26mm F-stop: f/5 Exposure time: 1/6 sec. ISO speed: ISO-400

Victoria Harbo

by Brittan

Photograp 74

Fall 2010

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our, Hong Kong

ny Leung

phy (Digital) Thoroughfare

Fall 2010

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A SUMMER REUNION by Angela Hu Poetry

Fall 2010

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We decided to meet at the rusted swing sets & towering monkey bars of the old elementary school playground at half-past three in the afternoon, when the sun would bathe the jungle gym in the nostalgic color of mango lassis. Our five cars kept watch in the black paved parking lot as we walked, with hushed but reverent whispers, wood chips filling our sandals, onto the neon orange structures. Our sentences ended, no, began with, “that’s right, you’re right, & I remember.” Glancing to one another with the sun at our backs, we wore halos around our crescent smiles, as the memories softened

our faces, unpackaged from the sunny alcoves of our memory. Our hands worked their way around cool chains of creaking swings. Shoes, abandoned as the sun eased onto the horizon, lay beneath us from our perch atop the monkey bars, where the world spread before us as in a painting or a dream and our shadows played out at our feet, stretching into thin needles, like points on a cardinal rose. Leaping off the playground’s swings & bars & slides, we dug our heels into the wood chips, and wondered how many years corresponded to each layer of darkening soil. Until the sun set, and our shadows stood so tall beneath our feet that they touched our cars, waiting in the dusty lot to carry our hushed breaths away.

Thoroughfare

Fall 2010

Bubble and the Kid

by Farhad Pashakhanloo Photography (Digital) Additional information: Camera model: Nikon D90 Focal length: 105mm F-stop: f/5.6 Exposure time: 1/100 sec. ISO speed: ISO-500

Fall 2010

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Fall 2010

Thoughts of Commerce by Kathryn Alsman Photography (Digital) Additional Information: Camera model: Pentax K100D Super Focal length: 55mm F-stop: f/9.5 Exposure time: 1/125 sec. ISO speed: ISO-1600

Fall 2010

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Fall 2010

Heinz Bauman

by Brittan

Photograp 82

Fall 2010

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nn Emulation

ny Leung

phy (Digital) Thoroughfare

Fall 2010

Memoryâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Price

by Isaac Brooks Poetry

The day I left my home for good I cut away a lock of hair And hid it under basement wood For it to stay forever there It seemed of no great consequence My hair, I thought, would soon regrow But it has never grown back since Though that was many years ago Instead my hair has all come free One strand and then another went Each thought of an old memory Demanded more hair to be spent And here I sit, an old bald man With not a hair left on my being And all that I held dear is gone I have forgotten everything

Good Times

by Kimia Ganjaei Photography (Digital) Additional information: Camera model: Sony DSC-P32 Focal length: 5mm F-stop: f/2.8 Exposure time: 1/8 sec. ISO speed: ISO-320 84

Fall 2010

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Fall 2010

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stock photo courtsey of Billy Alexander and Stephen Davies at sxc.hu

by Kaetan Vyas

Music (click to listen)

The Voice in Your Throat Thoroughfare

Fall 2010

Thoroughfare

Brushes

by Kimia Ganjaei Visual Arts (Traditional)

Thoroughfare

Fall 2010

Screams for Tina â&#x20AC;&#x201C; One Last Show at the Viper Room! by Chelsea Rinnig Poetry

I left the cash in the cowboy boot and the Carrera under your name, The bookshelves brimming with LPs undusted, forty years the same. The Fender Strats will sell for thousands on eBay and musikfoto.com will skyrocket any day. Bowie, Van Halen, McCartney and Mick emerge from dark room chemicals, immortal in print. My blood pressure soars, singing my soul on Sunset Boulevardâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; ached heart writhing to the floor, screaming song, high D on the guitar. Untethered by the weather I shall wear my boots and leather, keep my hair dyed and long, and drink my coffee black with the LA Times at dawn.

Fall 2010

Thoroughfare

stock image courtesy of Kymberly Vohsen at sxc.hu

Unmoved Mover by Eric Luitweiler

Photography (Digital)

Additional Information: Camera model: Nikon D60 F-stop: f/18 Exposure time: 1/80 sec. ISO speed: ISO-200 Focal length: 55mm

Fall 2010

Thoroughfare

Fall 2010