“In this place of uncharted pathways: journeys, destinations, thought, emotion, this uncharted dimension that begins where the flesh ends, I found something. This something, is something of that that I know not of what. It’s a place of peace, a place where the meaning of judgment is not in existence. A place where being lost in a jumble of words, lost in a downpour of emotions, a place lost in undisturbed thought, is really a place of knowing exactly where I am.” Continue reading Fiber of the Paper: In Between the Ink and the Stars
Whether we realize it or not, our mind is working to process and interpret reality at a rate that is distinctly different than anyone else. As individuals, the world manifests itself specifically based on how we perceive it, and what we want out of it. That cookie in the cabinet that you’ve been thinking about? All you have to do is grab it. Continue reading Field of Vision
Our souls return to each other in waves, this is how we love so infinitely. You can see a bit of someone you already know and love in a stranger and it makes you love the stranger a little more than before. Continue reading Love & Infinity
Even though they are gone, even though I will never speak, see, or hear from them ever again, the love I had for them, the lessons and essence of life they shared while they were alive, is just as prominent. Continue reading Always and Forever: Life after Death
An original idea doesn’t mean that it has never been done, but that it comes from your own life. Anything that you take from your own life is unique to you and although many others may have experienced things in a similar way, it is not possible that people have seen it through your eyes. To create a song or write a poem or story that captures a way that you felt that meant anything at all to you can not only help you to understand why you felt certain ways, but it can open another persons mind to see their own similar situation in a different light. Continue reading Nuss on Being Creative
Drawing by: Jonathan Ashe Written by: Adam Abramowitz Creativity is an escape. We have the ability to tune the world out as our brain focuses on self-expression. The act of creating is one of the few things that allows us to displace ourselves from reality and just feel. Listening, reading, or viewing someone else’s art does the same thing. The difference between the artist and the audience is the artist creates something from within, and shares it to be discovered by someone else. If done right, the artist leaves behind a piece of themselves, so they can be free of … Continue reading Escape into Creativity
Written by: Charlene Cannon
One of the most interesting things I have found about life is observation. Working at a coffee shop five days a week, I’ve come to really enjoy it.
When I tell someone my story of why I have stopped smoking (cigarettes and/or weed) the listeners reaction is one of the following:
A.) Awkward head nod: “Good for you.” The End.
B.) Their eyes light up: “Wow! I’m so proud of you Char!”
C.) Sarcastic laugh: “Well that sucks.”
D.) Smile and complete understanding: “That’s awesome girl.”
I wish I could say that it doesn’t affect me, that I’m just proud of myself and want people to know of my accomplishment, but that’s not true.
Because in all honesty, I think about picking up a cigarette and smoking a bowl every single day. Continue reading “Reality Check”
Written by: Garret Golden
Who am I? What am I? I’ve once heard a wise man by the name of Ted Dekker say these words, “I Am”… He did not say ‘I am what I am’, because that puts identity on one’s self. I have to realize my true essence has no possession, no roots grounded into this person writing this paper, this man who strives to be the best example of love to others who walk upon this earth, to the earth herself. I am not an individual with the title of Garrett Golden. Continue reading ““I Am” (Late for a Dinner Date)”
Written and Painted by: Sam Rathvon
Once, in an English class that I did not particularly care for, I heard an amazing story. My professor told of a poet who worked in a field. It was said that he could feel a poem coming like a calm breeze passing through the grains of wheat. The poet would run as fast as he could back to the house to find some means of capturing the poem; always hearing its inspiration drawing nearer and nearer. Sometimes, he would make it back to his house in time to gather some paper and ink before the train passed his station. However, there were just as many times when he felt the poem pass him by like a gust in the wind. Gone forever, and never to return.
The poem was in search of someone to capture. Continue reading “Fear, Frustration, and Creation”
Written By: Abe Redstone
I sit in a room with no windows, on a couch with nothing but my cell phone screen illuminating my face at 2 in the morning. This scene isn’t so different from my life five months ago, and at the same time, my life has changed drastically. The love of my life, the woman whom I pledged my world to, my wife, sleeps in the bed beside my spot of contemplation instead of not speaking to me… Continue reading “Inner Workings of the Clockwork City”