DIVIDED / CONVERGED / the other side 2012

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As executive editors of the log, we saw the effects publications had on people. we saw the elation as the

spine was cracked and the pages were viewed for the very first time. We saw the pride the page designers felt as they flipped through the books and saw their designs and ideas spring to life on the freshly printed pages. we saw the joy students felt as they opened the book and saw themselves; saw memories in the making. we could feel the hard work and love emanating from the publications room as designers and writers put their heart and soul into the publication. we wanted you to have those same feelings. at the end of the 2010-2011 school year, we were informed that the literary arts magazine, the other side, was no longer going to be offered in the course guide

as a north publication. as the only publication that allowed students to submit their own work, we knew this was a product that was too valuable to lose. we wanted to give you the chance to see your works of art come to life. so, here it is. the revamped 2011-2012 literary arts magazine. this is your artwork, your poems, your photography, your magazine. your art was different, it was unique, it was tailored to your interests.

we took what you gave us and made it into the final product. without your designs, your ideas and your inspirations, this would never have been possible.

COURTNEY CROMPTON / JACLYN GILL

it was your art that divided you and set you apart from the rest. it was your art that converged and made the other side come together.

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one • “silhouette” by jane baldwin two/three • letter from the editors / table of contentsfour/five • “forgotten” by ellen hacker six/seven • sarah whaley / meagan wolf eight/nine • chelsea mathis / jaclyn gillten/eleven • madi slack / grace snider / ellen hackertwelve/thirteen • david sowerby / emma terry / hannah patton / sarah whaleyfourteen/fifteen • “all of the lights” by hannah pattonsixteen/seventeen • jane baldwin / erin ruffin / agne jonaityteeighteen/nineteen • featured photography artiststwenty/twenty-one • agne jonaityte / ramya vijayagopaltwenty-two/twenty-three • emma terry / michelle morales / hannah pattontwenty-four/twenty-five • david sowerbytwenty-six/twenty-seven • adam grimes / chelsea mathis / lucie cyliax

table of contents /Our featured artists/

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ARTIST PROFILE ellen hacker/“across the street from my grandma’s house i wanted to get some creative pictures. photography helps me express the artist i want to be because it is not as typical as drawing or painting is.”

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THE CRUMBLING GATEby sarah whaley

I think I once believed in loveAnd making wish on star aboveAnd every time I see your faceI contemplate a second graceBut hold myself in iron chainsIf only to escape the pain

A passion wild and untamedFor everything without a nameBut really, who am I to blame?I'm scared of love, but cannot hateFor centuries I may here waitAt my abandoned, crumbling gate

/left • the old lady

middle • a quiet reflectionright • graceful disaster

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ARTIST PROFILE meagan wolf“i feel at ease when i’m drawing or painting. i sometimes even get a rush from it. it’s a way that i can express my feelings and get creative.”/

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/ARTIST PROFILE chelsea mathis

“photography is my life. it takes me on adventures and introduces me to a varety of new people and places. this hobby has really opened my eyes to columbus and what the world is like around me through a camera lens. it is the ultimate get away from stress in my day.”

left • outsde closed doors middle • standing tall

right • city nights

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Homeby jaclyn gill

Home.It was where we grew up.It was where we spent our days skipping on the sidewalk and jumping out of swings.It was where we learned to ride a bike without training wheels.It was where we learned to cheer for our favorite team.It was where we experienced our first love, and our first heartache.Home.Even as we moved on in our lives, the memories we made and the footsteps we left always remained.

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/top left • madi slack

bottom left • grace sniderright • ellen hacker

our featured artists/

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ANONYMOUSI am shattered.My eyes search for sunlight but you are the cloth blinding me.I struggle for freedom but you are the shackles that pull me back.I try to swim but you insist on drowning me.I cannot escape.My tears fall like brilliant glass, bitter and vivid.My lips move to protest but there is nothing I can say.I have nowhere to turn and no one to save me.I am broken.Those sharp wordsSo carelessly thrown.Don't even look backTo see how much I'm bleeding,I'm dying.You may forgive and forgetbut I have not that privilegeBecause I remember every word.As the peaceful moon sweeps over the starry skyI lie awake, the memories tattooed in my eyelids.The nightmare that is real life won't allow meto escape to the paradise of my dreams.

12/ARTIST PROFILE emma terry

“i started taking pictures with my disposable camera my mom would buy me to keep me occupied while grocery shopping with her. i’d take pictures of people we’d pass and of food we’d put in our carts. i’ve been documenting the things i enjoy since then.”

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What is love? by sarah whaley

What is love?It is always there,but never seen.Reveals its mark, althoughThe touch is softer than theBrush of a feather.Carries us on it’s wings,But not above the ground.Saves all things,But creates the deepest woundWhen taken.Says all things,Yet never makes a sound.Is the greatest -And yet the most terrifying -Of all emotions.

/hannah patton

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ARTIST PROFILE hannah patton/“art is my passion. when i’m working on something i completely dive into it. i’m always looking for new ways to make my art unique. one day i want to be an artist. i have always loved art and appreciate it more as a get older.”

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top left • agne jonaityte bottom left • hannah pattonmiddle • erin ruffin right • agne jonaityte

our featured artists/ top left • looking backbottom left • mr. fancy pants middle • garrett hedlundright • extrapolation

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Loudus by ben miller

Watching the last golden sun make its last stand.Morpheus said it was called a jungleSafaria, and I was told that at the end waited mans greatest bounty. Loudas, our guide, led the Tyndrarid Pair, but only to betray us for what he called the greater good. Now I feel my mouth coughing up red wine. I see Loudas shoot Castor, who isNow cold and has gone back to the dustBy my simple sanguinary greed.

Morpheus plays again to show a pure white laurel on the mountain bank that found me, but I have denied her once, twice, Thrice. Black now from grieving, she withers and fades to earth’s dust. And Loudus had killed what should have been his greatest agape. Now I cannot take back the Laurel to save her broke heart. I cannot saveCastor my last friend. I realize now that Loudus is me,Loudus is dead.

/

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top left • sergio armendariz bottom left • robert boothmiddle • david sowerby top right • sergio armendarizmiddle right • lauren backmeyerbottom right • ashley bruner

our featured artists/

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/ARTIST PROFILE agne joaintyte

“for me, it’s not so much about expression as much as it is a great way to relax. having an art class 8th period relieves stress like nothing else. through art, i’ve learned how to appreciate the beauty in a clear blue sky even when my head is full of assignments and projects i have to do.”

21bottom left • flower childmiddle • the wise man top right • dropletsbottom right • despair

/Rainby ramya vijayagopal

Clear and coolDrops peppering the roofwith a metallic pingA symbol of hopeof a new beginningof a better tomorrow.Refreshing and sweetThe drops tumble from ashy cloudsthat wisp outward in the lighter gray sky.Lightning flashes and arcs across the skygraceful as a dancerperforming a perfect pirouette.The thunder follows shortlycrashing out a beatlike a hand on a drumor the tide on the rocks.

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top left • michelle moralesbottom left • hannah patton

right • michelle morales

/

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Goby emma terry

Go, he said,Until the stone gives way to the high placeAll the fire and air and stoneUntil arms reach up to the glory thatCracks, creates, mystifies, renewsGo, he said,Til tongues shudder at the very presence-And all is calmed and hushed and stilledFor the coming is near and The test is at wayGo, he said,Do not stop until the end is within sightFor it is there you will find me-Indeed you’ll meet me. Go.

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ARTIST PROFILE david sowerby/“Art is one of my favorite things in the world. it expresses all the emotions i can’t put into words and brings beauty we see in the world to the forefront of our vision. being an artist is a huge part of who i am and how i enjoy myself.”

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25left • corvidae right • blue jambii

Evanescence by david sowerby

Nature.Born in spring.Dead in fall.The evanescent cycle;The ebbs and flowsof time.All is born of theEarth, and we allReturn when is our time.Each of us is part ofeach next generation.

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left • lucie cyliaxright • chelsea mathis

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ARTIST PROFILE lucie cyliax

“The beauty of art is that you can picture something in your mind and then make it a reality.”

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rabbits are nice to knowby adam grimes

[Act I, scene I.]Two young men, by the names of Vieux and Nou-veau, live in a somewhat quiet suburb of New York City. Nouveau contacts Vieux in hopes to speak with him soon about a recent experience he just had. The play opens with them opening the door to the café.

Vieux: Mhhm, so now that we’re here will you tell me about whatever it is that you had to summon me here for.

Nouveau: Just a second, let’s get a drink first.

Vieux: Yes, I’ll have a cappuccino with a bit of sweetener, please.

Nouveau: A black coffee for me will be all.

Vieux receives his drink first and picks a spot in the corner facing away from the rest of the café. Nouveau with his coffee sits opposite Vieux facing the café. The café has a brown wood floor, olive colored walls, and vibrant red painted tables and chairs.

Nouveau: I saw a rabbit a few feet in front of me on the right while walking today. When I proceeded to walk ahead it did not move but kept its head terrifyingly still, and once I was a

good distance past it, it bounced up behind me closer. It did this maybe three more times un-til eventually I had to cross the street. What do you think of that?

Vieux: Dude shut up, you’ve never talked like this in your life. Joking, dude?

Nouveau: No actually I see the world clearer now. [Speaking in a choppy fashion] It was a mind-altering experience, like a drug or some-thing, except the reverse, because instead of feeling doped up, I’m sobered up. Essentially, I can create anything I want, when I want, out of anything I want.

At this moment a waitress who was bringing a large amount of food and a couple coffees to a table just across the café tripped and sent all of the contents of her tray into the air. Yet this was no problem. The waitress manipulated herself under the food and coffee and retrieved them back on her tray just as they belonged.

Vieux: You just see that? If you had told me some story about how you caught a bunch of food that you spilt by cartwheeling underneath it and catching it, I’d probably believe you more.

Nouveau: [To the waitress] Excuse me, ma’am? Did you see a rabbit too?

Waitress: Yeah.

columbus north high school / volume 4 / 2012 / columbus, indiana