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wildflower magazine

Ashley Noel Hennefer Editor

Contributors

Ashley DodgeJessica Farkas Rachel Quinn

ScarlettCaitlin Aly Thomas

Kelley HodgesAnna Belle Monti

Allison YoungRachel Casiano

Jessica Ross

Life and Food ColumnistReel Talk A Network TimeoutScarlett SpeaksFight Like a Girl

Wild MemberRebel MemberRebel MemberRebel MemberWild Member

Members

Published by Desert Underground | Independent Publishing and Media

Email: wildflower.magazine@gmail.com

Copyright © 2011 by the artists published and Wildflower Magazine.All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal. Please purchase only authorized elec-tronic editions. Your support of the artists’ rights is appreciated.

Tristan ClarkJessica Farkas

Veronica KirchoffJudy Logan

Anna Belle MontiErin Moreira

Annelise NelsonJessica Ross

Angela Spires Chelsea Suschena

Allison Young

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june 2011

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table of contents7 editor notes

8 featured artist: allison young

14 spotlight on: sandy finelli

16 a second look at a second chance: prose by judy logan

18 pushing the boundaries: women in science

24 profile: social psycholo-gist alicia summers

26 a song for a flower: fiction by jessica ross

32 girl meets world: travel photography from around the world

44 advertising | submis-sion | subscription information

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8contributors

featured artist: allison young

Tristan CLARKJessica FARKAS

Veronica KIRCHOFFJudy LOGAN

Anna Belle MONTIErin MOREIRA

Annelise NELSONJessica ROSS

Angela SPIRES Chelsea SUSCHENA

Allison YOUNG

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I haven’t quite been all over the world yet, but I’ve been to a fair few places. Stricken with wanderlust from a young age, not a day goes by that I don’t dream about the magical foreign lands, the ones to which I have been fortunate to venture, and the others I still yearn to see. From the hot, busy streets of Rome, to the cold winters of London, to the sultry and sacred Istanbul, I’ve found inspira-tion and little pieces of myself in each new place I have visited. The world is an incredible anthology of lives. And yet it is not only the people and their cultures that make the earth pulse and thrive - the planet itself, our home suspended in the uni-verse, is a wondrous work of science. As society progresses, more and more women are joining the ranks of biologists, engineers, forest rang-ers, chemists, and more. As we move further into the future, the care and keeping of the planet and its inhabit-ants becomes a duty undertaken by the fiercely passionate scientists that our society is fortunate to have. The scientists featured in this issue share their aspira-tions, their experiences and their challenges. Through these stories, we have seen journeys in the many forms they take. Last month, women shared their own personal adventures through motherhood. Now this month, we celebrate and honor our fathers. My dad likes to ride motorcycles, and ventures around the country on his bike. I’ve been with him on a few trips, and I can see

what he finds in the open road - simiplicity, beauty, solace in the hum of the motorcycle and in the easy pattern of the pavement beneath its tires. Recently, my dad started writing. A lifelong writer myself, it’s always special to see others enjoy something

that has fulfilled and sustained me since I first put a pen to paper. It is my hope that he will continue to be inspired by the written word, and perhaps he may pen his unique expeditions to share with the world. I am so excited to share this issue of Wildflower with you, full of stories about women climbing huge moun-tains - scientists helping to improve and strengthen our world, adventurers traveling across the planet to expand their minds and knowledge, humanitar-ians advocating on behalf of those suffering, and artists expressing them-selves with honest, raw insight. This truly is an incredible issue, and I am grateful to all of the contributors and

readers around the world who continue to make Wildflow-er a place where women can be respected and valued. Happy Father’s Day to my dad, and I wish you many more adventures on the road and beyond. And happy summer to you all, and I hope you enjoy and value this issue as much as I do.

Cheers, Ashley Noel Hennefer, Editor

editor notes

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Desert Flower I was born in Reno and have lived in Sparks, Span-ish Springs, and Reno. Honestly, there’s not much difference. I’ve noticed each neighborhood has its own quirks, but when you need signs telling you which city you’re in… I really do love Nevada. I haven’t done much travel-ing other than the standard California, Oregon, and Wash-ington road trips, so I can’t say if anywhere is better. There surely are more traditionally beautiful places than the Great Basin—the French Pyrenees, for example—but I do plan on living here for a while if not the rest of my life. However, if my passions take me elsewhere, I’ll follow (especially back to France!).

Artist-of-all-Trades I just want to be able to do what I love. Of course, I need to make a living, and art isn’t always a means to that end. So career-wise, I want to enjoy what I do (whatever that will be), and life-wise, I want to do what I enjoy. I’ve always loved art and initially stuck to drawing and coloring for the longest time until I started at TMCC High School my junior year. My mom convinced me to take an art class—I’d been on that hardcore AP/Honors track that doesn’t allow for many electives—and I really got into it. Af-ter that Art 100 class, I took drawing, painting, photography, and art history and really loved it all. I have to say, though, photography is my calling no matter how much I love the oth-

ers. The digital side holds so many instantaneous possibilities, and the darkroom is sublime.

Interdisciplinary I don’t really know who my influences are. My in-structors probably have been, just based on their own work and their critiques of my work. I have a hard time keeping track of direct influences—I feel like there’s something in ev-erything that I subconsciously grab onto. I suppose lately my inspiration has come from somewhere along the lines of Bar-bara Kruger, Sarah Maple, Diane Arbus, Ruth Bernhardt, Lewis Baltz, and the duo Eliza French and Jeff Charbonneau. I’m also a big fan of Linda McCartney, Harry Callahan, Nadar, László Moholy-Nagy, and Hannah Höch. There are countless others. I also find a lot of inspiration on websites like Flickr and a specific blog, Lenscratch. And interestingly enough, I find things when I read for my English literature or art history classes—lately Sylvia Plath, The Canterbury Tales, classical/pagan mythology, and medieval art. Everything works together in the end—who knows what my brain’s think-ing.

Cover, Uncovered I probably saw something similar [to the cover image] at one time. I just thought it one day and shot it the next. I figure it’s a transitional piece for its series and myself as a person. It’s modest yet revealing at the same time. I like the

allison youngfeatured artist

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dea of figuratively and literally revealing yourself while hold-ing back a bit to keep peace and not overwhelm people. (I also like overwhelming them too, but that’s another story.)

Travelin’ (Wo)man Currently, I’m working on eight photography proj-ects that were summed up in a single exhibition in April at the Wonder Well Gallery in Reno. I had to do the exhibition as a course requirement, but I felt it was time to step outside the semester box and not limit myself to a couple months to work on a single project. Why not do everything I want to do and figure out how it all relates at the moment? One part has to do with an old coloring book I finished. The sec-ond is a 365 self-portrait project to cover all of 2011, and half the other projects have branched off this one. The third project is on roadkill and litter being the same via humans. The antithesis of the previous: the Traveling Can Opener that goes around, carnival-style, with buddies like Cheese Grater and Empty Milk Carton. Next is my Maple-and-Kru-

ger-inspired project which questions beauty standards for both men and women, questions delivered by way of sticky notes on the models’ bodies. Perhaps my current favorite project is interpretations of poems/lyrics/quotes in which I correlate how many lines there are to which week the image is posted on my Flickr. And I can’t forget that I’m attempting my own creative writing, outside of photography.

Quirk and Comic Books I used to be really into comic books. I don’t think a lot of people, even my friends, realize that. At the time, it was a way to combine my literature- and art-loving sides when I didn’t have time to create. Once the scales went the other way, however, the devotion I put into my own art voided the money and time needed to read others’ work. Of course, I still like me a good graphic novel occasionally… if I have that time!

march 14 this image was chosen to be in UNR’s 2011 Student Art Show

by NY MOMA curator Barbara London and “explored” on Flickr.com

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I have read all of the original fifty-six Nancy Drew books at least once and own all but about seven of the series. Even when I was in third grade, I could read one a day. I could prob-ably add Nancy Drew and “Carolyn Keene” as inspiration for anything I do. WWND? I like the smell of tape, Sharpies, and darkroom chemi-cals. I haven’t tried smelling them all at the same time, but I imagine I’d pass out from the joy.

Check out more of Allison’s photography by going to www.flickr.com/allisonyoungphotography.

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Sandy Finelli has dedicated the last 18 years of her life helping those who struggle with substance abuse, alcoholism, and homelessness. She has seen firsthand, the importance of treatment and aftercare following the treatment. Through all of her experience, Sandy has recognized that three of the most important components of recovery are: a strong support system, hope, and perseverance. As a result, she has dedicated her life to ensuring that those who are in recovery are provided with these imperative elements so that they can become self-suffi-cient and successful individuals. She has worked in the fields of addiction treatment, youth ag-ing out of foster care, and safe and sober housing. The com-mon thread among these pro-grams has been that addiction and alcoholism ALWAYS creates devastation for the individuals, the family and the community. Recently she has focused her energies on safe and sober housing (recovery oriented system of care) as she believes that follow-up support is vital for individuals after completing a course of treatment. Having ex-perienced firsthand the devasta-tion addiction and alcoholism brings to families, she is determined to create change in our community through spreading hope. Beginning on the ground floor as a volunteer with Launching Pad Empowerment Center (LPEC), she committed more than three years to the organization before coming on board as the Executive Director. As a result of her ever-growing passion for helping men and women in recovery, she has high expecta-tions for the residents that come and stay at LPEC. Sandy’s goals and high standards for LPEC residents are designed to guide them toward a strong foundation of recovery, family reunification and employability. These goals are accomplished by ensuring 12-step meetings are provided onsite, encouraging one-on-one visits between children and their parents, and a long term strategy as a way to create workforce development for this at-risk population in northern Nevada. Sandy is very passionate about the work she does at LPEC and believes it is a ministry. Each day, she brings her faith into the office because for her, faith in a Higher Power (God) has

guided her towards healing life's hurts and habits. Each day, her life is changed and enriched because she is able to see the peo-ple around her grow, grasp onto hope, and realize their goals. “I have faith and hope that there is goodness in all things, we just have to be open to experiencing this goodness. My foundation is built on faith, and by living in faith, I get to experience growth.

I try to share this with our clients. I try to help them see that life is only as bad as they expect it to be, that recovery and the belief (faith) that they have the tenacity to grasp it is the key to success.” Through her experience, she has realized that when she expects negativity, negativity comes. However, when she expects goodness, she receives that just the same. She explains that there have been times in her life when some-one else reached their hand out to her and helped her to understand that she is an incredible, smart, kind, good, loveable and worthy person. The work she does is her way of “paying it forward;” it is because of those people who had the patience and perseverance to help her, that makes her now want to give some of that back. “That’s why I do what I do, and I am blessed to

have the opportunity to give back, it helps me remember all my blessings in life and it brings great joy to my soul as I see our residents achieve their goals.” Sandy feels that “Every single one of us, regardless of what our bad habits are or were, are worthy of redemption and that is an opportunity that we have the privilege of offering each day at the Empowerment Center.” Sandy knows that there is a simple solution to the struggles and problems that our residents face; they simply have to walk in faith and accept the changes that are occurring in their lives. The 12-steps of recovery take people down the path of redemption and a life worth living, and she is filled with joy because she is able to experience this on a first hand basis. As a way of escaping the stresses that occur during the work week, Sandy enjoys fishing, taking her mom to the beauty parlor and out for ice cream, and is an avid gardener. She also enjoys spending time with her three children and seven grand-children.

spotlight on: sandy finelliExecutive Director, Launching Pad Empowerment Center | by Erin Moreira

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How could Las Vegas, the city of sin with its glitz, gambling, goons, and gaudiness become my city of second chances? It’s a place that strips, not saves. Beyond the Strip is no better: hot air and dust choke my head and dry out my throat, just as the craggy peaks that encircle the valley compress and hold in the smog like some cloudy brown liquid in a cloudless sky. Who would drink this alien brew to toast a new life here? Some second chances aren’t worth taking, I guess. I’m old, and widowed, and fat and I can’t get out of my own way even if I could find a path through the desert or up through these mountains. I’m stuck in an incubator here, and it’s hot, and claustrophobic, and way too tight - - like a hot flash I can’t get away from…a fire that surrounds me, yet one that cannot ignite a fire within me. A hell without a second chance or even a sip at salvation. It’s the sunshine - it just won’t quit. It’s unrelenting, filtering through the enclosure that confines me, penetrating my eyelids no matter how tightly I pull them over my eyes. The light refuses to leave and let me stay in shadow. It forces me to grow, and un-

bidden, from somewhere, an egg tooth cuts through my gums. I peck furiously at the shell that encases me because instinctively, I know that once the shell is broken the tooth will fall out and the pain will stop. I break free and my wings unwrinkle, my joints move. I push against the enclosure and step into the coolness of release. The heat is gone and the cloudy brown liquid surrounds my new body with tenderness. I have no history, now, but the birth I’ve just experienced and I see nothing cling-ing to me but fragments of the shell from which I just emerged. Easily, I shake them off and move toward a new path. Weight Watchers is ahead. I think I’ll join and lose some weight. There’s a writers’ group, too –I think I’ll learn to create new characters, including myself. And, maybe, I’ll meet some new friends on my new path. The glitz and the glamour of Vegas have faded into the background, just as the sorrow and suffering of yesterday have fallen away. It’s a new city – a new me -- a new life. The sunshine of Vegas, my city of second chances has finally enlightened and empowered me -- now, I want to spread that light to others, too.

second chanceby Judy Logan

a second look at a

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special feature:

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pushingthe

boundaries

women in science continue to make strides, and face both

triumphs and obstacles

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biology

Veronica Kirchoff

FIELD::Molecular Biology, Conservation Genet-ics, Microbiology

LONG-TERM GOALS::I plan on finishing my PhD and finding a teaching position at a community college or a 4 year teaching University.

WHY BIOLOGY?::It is a field that continues to grow and encourages new techniques and contin-ued learning.

GENDER DIVISION IN THE FIELD::In conservation Biology, it is probably 50:50. Biochemistry and cell and mo-lecular biology are closer to 70:30. My lab has been predominantly female. My PI, three grad students and myself were all female, only one MS student worked in the lab. Cur-rently, we have

only two male MS students and myself.

I had issues as an undergraduate when I was pregnant. I couldn’t do some of my lab work and was not given any way of making up for that missed work. My instructor (a woman with no kids) told me that “it was your decision to have a child while in college. There are consequences to that decision.” At conferences I some-times felt like a woman invited to the boys club, but felt like I could hold my own and be competitive. There still seems to be a pay differential in academia and less women that have tenure and hold chair positions for various departments.

ADVICE TO ASPIRING SCIENTISTS::Science is a continuously changing field. Stay on top of it and be confi-dent that you belong in your field.

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bioCHEMISTRY

Chelsea Suschena

FIELD::I work in preclinical services. This is the por-tion of drug development in which pharma-ceutical and biotechnology products are extensively tested in a laboratory setting to ensure they are safe before being adminis-tered to humans.

LONG-TERM GOALS::During college I found that I enjoyed being in the lab. This field allows me to do hands on work. There is an opportunity to learn in this field and further develop your skill set.

WHY BIOCHEMISTRY?::I would like to continue to learn new things and perfect the skills I already have to this point. There is the opportunity for advance-ment and multiple paths I can choose down the road. It would be great to see a drug I worked on eventually hit the market, though my role would only be a small one in the big scheme of drug development.

GENDER DIVISION::I would say there is an equivalent number of males and females in all areas of preclini-cal services.

I have not faced any obstacles as a woman. I feel I have actually flourished, not necessarily as a woman but as a person. I have never come across anything in this field that distinguishes the men from the women. We all work for the same goal and I feel there is a great team atmosphere.

ADVICE TO ASPIRING SCIENTISTS::Go for it! There will always be science in the world. With so many avenues available to people interested in science, you will never be restricted to one specific thing. Science benefits everyone, everyday!

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FORESTRY

MANAGEMENT

Anna Belle MontiFIELD:: Forestry Management

LONG-TERM GOALS::The main goal is to protect our natural resources, in particular the forests. The way that I specifi-cally accomplish this is through fuels reduction projects (hand thinning, prescribed burning, and other mechanical treatments). In addition to that, a personal goal is to dispel the misconceptions that people have about government agencies like the Forest Service. Most people don't see the intense and strategic science that goes behind the projects that take place on national land.

WHY FORESTRY MANAGEMENT?::I grew up in the outdoors camping and backpacking with my family. It only seemed a natural progression to get an education in how to protect and manage the outdoors that I love so much.

GENDER DIVISION::Overall in the Forest Service, the ratio of males to females is fairly even, maybe even weighted more heavily toward women. Specifically in the timber/fuels/fire fields, there are more males than females.

It’s a fact of life that women are not as physically strong as men. While this is a science field, there’s a lot of physical, on the ground work that takes place in order to carry out the projects. As a woman, I’ve really had to reconcile myself to not physically being able to do all the things that the “boys” do. I can’t use a chainsaw all day like some of the men I work with do, and I can’t carry as much weight as far as they can either. Integrating every person’s capabilities on a crew to get the overall mission accomplished, while still managing what I can effectively contrib-ute has really been a learning experience for me. Traditionally speaking, my field is very male dominated, and there are some instances where that attitude is very much alive. I rarely encounter negative situations in my work simply because I’m a female, but it does occasionally happen. Not only is this an unfortunate obstacle, it’s also a frustrating one. I have the education and the experience to back up the work that I do, but unfortunately some people don’t see past the fact that I’m a woman.

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ADVICE TO ASPIRING SCIENTISTS::Don’t get discouraged! If you want it, go for it, but don’t be afraid to hear people say “you can’t”. Along those same lines, don’t feel entitled to any position you get, in any field. Work hard for what you want and what you get - not only will people respect a woman who’s driven, but you’ll be proud of your accomplishments, too.

photographs by Anna Belle Monti

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Finding a passion in life is important. Alicia Summers found hers in science—social psychology to be exact. Though psychology is considered to be a “soft science,” re-search in the field has helped to form policy and laws across the United States. Summers graduated from the Uni-versity of Nevada, Reno (UNR) with a PhD in Social Psychology in 2009. She chose UNR because “the program was an interdis-ciplinary program that allowed us to work with faculty from many different disciplines and focus on our area of interest—mine was law.” In pursuit of her degree, Summers began working with the National Council of Juvenile and Family Court Judges (NCJF-CJ) as a student researcher in 2005. When she completed her degree they hired her as a full time researcher, doing work with ap-plied research with the juvenile dependen-cy (child abuse and neglect) court system. Her research focuses on the intersection of social psychological principles and the le-gal system. She considers her strongest asset to be her ability to design and conduct applied research. “I

Soft Sciences Can Form Strong PoliciesAlicia Summers uses research, analysis and the power of the mind to help fight against child abuse.

by Angela Spires

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love that I can take what I have learned, apply it to research within the court system, and produce research that is mean-ingful and actually make a difference in the world,” said Summers. Her research team evaluates court programs and practices and makes recommendations for positive changes in those systems. The goal of the program is to improve the child abuse and neglect court system so that children and families have better outcomes. She focuses on finding better ways to improve the court system through social psychological re-search. “If we can find a way to improve the system, perhaps we can help stop the cycle of child abuse and neglect, or at least improve the well-being of children and families involved in the system,” said Summers. Her research team works with judges and systems across the US. Summers didn’t always love science. Psychology was not her first choice in degrees. However, while she was at-tending college she took a couple of psychology courses and was hooked. Her first thoughts were to apply it to clinical psychology and see patients. Then she found her true passion in the soft science field: research. Now, with her PhD be-hind her she feels that her possibilities are nearly endless. “I think I would say my biggest goal is to ensure that the research that we do is disseminated to a broad audience,” said Summers. “So often in the applied field, research and evaluation is conducted but is never shared beyond a small group of stakeholders. Ensuring our work is distributed to a large audience can help enlighten all professionals involved in the child abuse and neglect court system and can help future research.” With all the research she has done, she would still like to see the field move toward more research and dissemina-

tion. Because of her dedication and work that she has completed, she was recently accepted into a program at Cornell University, which only accepts a small group of applicants. It allows for “intensive experience in secondary data analysis,” according to Cornell. It is a very competitive process in which her research ideas and questions where examined in order to select from a large pool of applicants. “It is a great opportunity to do in-depth analysis of existing data and look test out our theories related to child abuse and neglect,” said Summers, who was very excited about spending a week playing with data. Summers has several publications and points of interests that out-line the extensive research that she does. She has been published in journals such as Judicature, The Journal of Juvenile Justice, Psychol-ogy, and Crime and Law. She has also written several technical re-ports to the courts or funding agencies, some of which are published by the NCJFCJ as Technical Assistance Bulletins or Briefs. While she gets down to business while she’s at work, she also brings pieces of her personality to her desk, including her Han Solo and Boba Fett bobble heads that sit next to her business cards. When she isn’t doing research and advocating to make changes in the court system, she finds the time to spend with family, friends, and her two Cocker Spaniels. As far as advice for aspiring female sci-entist, Summers says “if you find something you love to do, you should embrace it whole-heartedly. Do not let anyone discourage you from pursuing the career you want.” Obviously, with her publications and research success Summers hasn’t let anything stand in the way of her science career.

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a story by

Her "light jogging gear" suddenly weighed two tons - she couldn't make herself move fast enough. It was like a memory she wanted to reach, but she was unable to grab a hold of. Lost and alone. Surrounded by the smell of peonies, light and graceful, not overbearing like the fragrance of most flowers. Lost and looking. Where were they? Weren’t they just here? Blinded by the sun that was never usually this bright. Lost and then found. A dark-haired little boy. He put his warm hand in hers as he told her to call him Phil and said that he would wait with her until her parents found her. She was drowning in it. His warm hand. His dark hair. His tanned skin. She was lost all over again. She reached for the surface, his eyes, soft and beautiful; they had a deep love in them – it was easy for her to see this, even when she was a child. His eyes, they were so easy to get lost in, but right now they were the only thing that could find her. His eyes, they haunted her, she needed them. His eyes, she needed them to see her, one more time, just one more time, that was all she was asking for, just to have him see her one more

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time. His eyes - they were keeping her from drowning, she was holding on with everything she had, and everything she didn’t. His eyes - he closed them, and she fell.

*** She shoved her hair out of her eyes and grunted. She nearly broke her alarm clock in her desperate attempt to silence it. She was drenched in a cold sweat - again. She had been having such strange dreams lately. There was something that some part of her mind was desperately trying to reach. Someone’s eyes. She knew that her dream was odd, that there was something in it that had scared her; made her feel so alone, but she was simply unable to hold onto it. There was something... A boy. Flowers. Lost and alone. Why was it so hard for her to remember? She put it out of her mind as she was getting out of the shower. She was obviously inca-pable of remembering and she saw no reason to dwell on it all day. As she passed down the hallway, she yelled for her sister to wake up, then went and made herself a bowl of cereal. “Thanks for yelling. I was already awake,” Jade said as she came into the small kitchen, and took the bowl of ce-real that her sister had already prepared for herself. “Thanks for taking my cereal,” she retorted, and made herself another bowl. “You’re the older sister, L.J. You’re supposed to take care of me. It’s why I came to live with you,” Jade replied sweetly. “You don’t need to be taken care of. You came to live with me because without me at home, you were getting a double dose of crazy every day and it made you miss me terribly,” L.J. joked lightly. “Next time make your own cereal.” She ruffled Jade’s hair affectionately and was grumbled at in response.

*** L.J. arrived at the store just in time to open it. Her cashier for the first shift, Chris, was already waiting out-side. He asked about Jade, how she was, how her classes were going, and some other small talk that L.J. really didn’t want to hear. She told him that Jade’s classes were fine, and that he would know that if he ever answered his phone when Jade called him. He made a comment about how she shouldn’t give him crap just because he was dating her sister, and she replied that she would have no need to give him crap if he were a better boyfriend to her. She had to stop reprimanding him as the first cus-tomer walked in, and had to be directed toward the poster boards.

The day went on just like any other: customers came in and out, and when one had a complaint they were directed to her. For whatever reason that was still a mys-tery to L.J., she enjoyed her job. This was what she had been doing for the past nine years, working at Robyn’s Arts & Crafts, and she worked her way up until they sent her to manage the new store opening in New Jersey. New Jersey, of all places. Where they certainly did not need any more businesses around. New Jersey, where it was cold and rainy. Sometimes she joked that she had left her heart in Nevada, but even she had to admit that she had left her heart some-where else long before she moved to Nevada. “Lost in thought again?” L.J. looked over at the clock on the wall. “I hadn’t realized it was already this late. How were your classes?”

“Don’t act like you’re my mother. You’re not crazy enough to be her. But they were fine. Chris is taking me out to dinner, and then he’s going to give me a ride home, so I’ll see you there,” replied Jade.

*** “I know you tell me not to assume, but I’m gonna go ahead and do it. You got so caught up in work and everything else that you forgot it was mom’s birthday. You know she always calls us at 6 sharp on her birthday. Our time, of course, not theirs. Well she told me to tell you ‘Lilliana Jaelynne,’ yes, full name - she was serious, ‘I cannot believe you weren’t home to talk to your own mother on her birthday’ blah blah blah all sorts of other crap that I didn’t

really listen to.” “You could at least let me set my stuff down before attacking me in the doorway. And I didn’t forget I just didn’t want to talk to her. I don’t know why she’s so desperate to act like everything’s okay. She lost both her daughters the moment they graduated high school, how can she act like we’re a loving family?” “Please, L.J., don’t get into your ‘we have such a crazy family’ speech again. I already know we have a crazy family, I’ve seen it; I’m a part of it, too. And anyway, I don’t want you to ruin the mood. I made cupcakes! Yellow cake with chocolate frosting and sprinkles, your favorite.” “Oh, good, my favorite cupcakes. That must mean you want something.” “Why does it have to mean I want something? What if I just decided to make some cupcakes for us? It could be in celebration for mom’s birthday…” “Get to the point, Jade. What do you want?” “Chris would really like to have next weekend off. There’s a concert out of town, and he already found one of the other cashiers that wouldn’t mind covering his shift and-”

“Please, L.J., don’t get into your ‘we have such a crazy family’ speech again. I already know we have a crazy family, I’ve seen it; I’m a part of it, too. And anyway, I don’t want you to ruin

the mood. I made cupcakes!”

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“Whatever, he can have it.” “Really? Just like that?” “Yeah. And next time, tell him to just ask me himself. I’ve already made it clear hundreds of times that if someone wants a day off; all they need to do is find some-one to cover the shift for them. There was no need to go through you. Hand me a cupcake.” “Thanks, Jae. I’ll tell him. Oh and-” “Yes, I’ll play a board game. Or a card game. Or whatever game it is you were about to ask me if I’d like to play.” “Boggle,” Jade said and smiled. “How did you know I wanted to play a board game?” “You’re my little sister. I always know. That and you only ever call me ‘Jae’ when you want to play a game. That’s what you used to call me when you were little and wanted to play with your dolls.” L.J. ruffled Jade’s hair affectionately, and Jade grumbled at her, before going to retrieve Boggle from the cabinet and clearing a space on the kitchen table.

*** She was headed home from the coffee shop when she heard it. There was a new band that was going to take over at the terribly overpriced coffee shop across the street from the one she went to, and there was something in the song that just sounded terribly familiar. It was just some-thing that made her feel more at home than she’d ever felt living at her parents’ house. She crossed the street to the coffee house, and looked in the window. It was the shock that made her stumble, but it was the sheer familiarity of the words, now that she was close enough to hear them, that made her drop her drinks. Someone sat down just inside the window and the movement drew L.J.’s eyes toward the now sitting man. Dark hair, tanned skin. Something about him seemed so familiar, like a dream she wanted desperately to grab a hold of... Eyes. Flowers. And then he turned, and she saw his face. She felt so violently the need to reach for him, talk to him, for him to see her, anything, that she almost got sick right there on the sidewalk. The man looked up just in time to see L.J. drop her drinks, and he was either a very polite and concerned citizen or he felt something similar, because he got up to go meet her. L.J. didn’t know what was happening; all she knew was that she needed to leave. She heard the man call-ing after her, telling her to wait, asking her to stop, begging her to turn around, but instead she ran. She had no explanation for what she was feeling and it scared her. She’d never felt this way before and she did not know who this man was that made her feel it. All she knew was that she had to leave. She wanted so desper-

ately to turn and go back - to reach for him, to see him again, but she fought herself with everything she had and just kept running. She refused to turn back and before she knew it she had run far past her apartment and needed to turn around to start walking back. She thought about the music that had drawn her to that coffee shop. There was something there, like a memory or a dream, or a dream of a memory. There was something trying to fight against her mind, a memory kick-ing and screaming and clawing its way to the surface. By the time she got back to her apartment, she had a few bits and pieces, but she wasn’t really sure what to do with them. She told her sister that she needed a few minutes to herself and that she was sorry about the coffee, but she was just going to have to stay awake on her own to try to finish her homework.

She was grasping at the edges of her memories and she could feel that she almost had it. A little boy with dark hair and tanned skin… and warm hands. Why did she know that? A meadow of some sort, a small one. And flowers. Her favor-ite flowers. Peonies. She was surrounded by them. When was it? And who was that boy? He was holding her hand and telling her that everything would be okay. Why? What was wrong? Why were there so many flowers? Why was the sun so bright? Why couldn’t she just remember? Someone was lost. Who? She needed help. And there was that boy, Phil. How did

she know his name? It didn’t take too long for L.J. to just give up. She couldn’t remember the whole story of whatever it was that she was remembering and she had no idea what it had to do with the man today or the way she had reacted to him, but she wanted to get it out of her head how stupid she felt for running away. She had no reason to, right? She put it out of her mind as best she could and went back out to the living room because she promised Jade she’d help her with her Calculus homework.

*** L.J. didn’t sleep very well that night, tossing and turning, dreaming of a little boy, and flowers, and a lost little girl, and she was still completely incapable of making out rhyme from reason for what it was supposed to mean. When she went to the kitchen, there was a bowl of cereal waiting for her, and Jade sat by the other bowl, barely eating it, while reading through one of her seem-ingly infinite textbooks. “You were talking in your sleep last night. Or yell-ing, more like.” “Sorry, Jade. I’ve just been having some crazy dreams lately.” “Crazy dreams about love?”

She was grasping at the edges of her memories and she could feel that she almost had it. A

little boy with dark hair and tanned skin... and

warm hands. Why did she know

that?

28 29

“Well I don’t usually remember all of them, but I don’t think so, no… why?” “That’s what you were screaming about. Love.” “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t keep you up all night.” “It made me think about how you’ve never been in love, or at least not that I’ve ever heard of. Why not?” “Why not what? Isn’t your Calculus test today? Are you ready for it? Sorry I wasn’t very much help with your homework last night.” “You know I have a Calc test today and don’t change the subject. Why haven’t you ever been in love?” “Does it really matter? I really don’t know why. I guess I’m just-” “Jaded?” “Hah. Very funny.” “Well will you answer my question? I want to know why you’ve never been in love. It seems like the only things you’ve ever loved - ever truly really loved - are me… and peonies.” “Well if it’s any consolation, I love you way more than I love peonies.” “Is it because of our parents?” “They had no part in making me love you more than peonies, no.” “I meant for why you’ve never been in love. “You need to get ready for school, Jade.” “Because they stay together in what is obviously, to everyone but them, a loveless marriage and scream at each other nonstop but they still call it love?” “Please, Jade. I don’t want to talk about this.” “You can’t just deny love for yourself just because our parents have trashed their lives so massively in the name of it.” “I have to get to work. Good luck on your Calc test today.” “I thought you were off today.” “I’ll see you when you get home.”

*** She did not at first realize the potential repercus-sions of just letting her feet take her where they would, which was normally her usual coffee haunt when she was upset or had a lot on her mind, and was just about to turn the corner onto the street on which it was located before she realized where she was. She realized it because she could hear very familiar music. Music that she felt like she had only heard yesterday. In fact, she was positive she had heard it only yesterday. She hesitated for only a fraction of what could have been a momentous amount of time and turned the corner, now determined to find this man who had dis-turbed her so thoroughly last night. He had no right. Who was he? Just some man. How could he affect her like that when she did not even know who he was? She would no longer let him. It was that simple. L.J. decided that she would be able to handle it just fine.

She walked in just in time to hear the end of one song, and the start of another. The melody was something close to that of a love song, but the lyrics were something close to that of a heartbreak ballad. L.J. bought herself a cup of overpriced coffee and was about to take a seat and try to figure things out when she really started to listen. The music. It was about a girl. A young girl. Lost. There were flowers. Not flowers; a meadow, maybe a gar-den. She was lost in a meadow. Lost in a meadow. A mead-ow. Why did that seem so familiar? There was a man. Not a man, a boy. But a boy from back then would be a man now. A man with the same tanned skin. The same dark hair. The same loving eyes. A boy from then would be just like that man that was watching her from across the shop, get-ting up, walking over and sitting down next to her. A boy from then would be just like this man with this friendly yet cautious smile. With those warm eyes that were begging her not to run away this time. The boy from then was real. And so was the dream. She could only ever remember parts of it when she woke up, but now she could see it perfectly.

*** She was out shopping with her parents. It was a long time ago. Before Jade was born. She was just a kid. Not that long ago. Maybe Jade had been born, but was just a baby. She was shop-ping with her parents. Jade was a baby, and her mom was carry-ing her. It was so long ago. She was small, and got separated from her parents while they were shopping. The baby was unable to get lost, because her mom was holding the baby. It was her; Lily was lost. Then she was running. Running away from the mall. She hated shopping malls. They were too crowded. She ran away from the mall. She was lost and she was running. Running away. She was not sad that she was lost. She would find a way to survive on her own and come back for the baby. She kept running. She was getting away. No more screaming, no more fighting, no more hitting, she was free. She was free and she was running and she was never going to stop. She was running and that meant she was getting away. No more hitting, no more screaming, she was getting away. She was getting away until she stopped. There was a garden outside of the shopping mall and it caught her attention. So not a meadow after all, just a garden. She stopped because she was crying too hard to run anymore. She stopped because even as young as she was, she knew she couldn’t leave her baby sister to face the yelling and hitting all on her own.

She heard a voice asking if she was okay and she looked up and

there he was. A beautiful boy in the beautiful flowers.

30 31

She stopped and cried into the flowers. The beauti-ful flowers. Beautiful flowers. She heard a voice asking if she was okay and she looked up and there he was. A beautiful boy in the beauti-ful flowers. There was a boy, probably no more than a few years older than her. He looked so warm. Like he had just spent the day in the sun and his skin was warmed by it, and you could see it by the way his skin was so sun-kissed and brown. He looked so warm, this little boy, and he was. His hand was so warm and lovely when he put it in hers; it made her stop crying and tell him that her name was Lilliana, but her parents called her Lily. He said that his name was Fiorello. He said to call him Phil because that was what his mom called him. He said his mom was from Italy and that was why his name was Fiorello, but he did not know where Italy was. He said it was probably farther away than California, and that seemed incredibly far. He told her to stop crying, and she said that she already had, and he told her that she could use his sleeve to wipe away her tears. He told her he would wait with her until her parents found her and she told him that she hoped they

never would. He told her if they never found her that she could go home with him and his mom would always cook good food for her and love her and never make her want to stay lost. She said she loved the flowers they were standing in and he told her they were peonies. She said that she would always love peonies, and he told her that he

already did love them. She said that she would never leave that garden of peonies, and he told her that he would stay as long as she did. She said that he would always be her best friend and he said that he would always love her. And then a hand grabbed her around the arm. Lily screamed. Phil stood up and told the man to leave Lily alone and the man said that he was Lily’s father and that he had been looking all over for her. Lily screamed. Lily’s dad was dragging her away. Phil grasped at Lily’s hand, try-ing to keep a hold of it. Lily screamed. Phil ran as fast as he could and tried to hang on and Lily didn’t do anything but scream. After Lily’s dad had wrestled her into the car and started driving off, watching Phil fade into a tiny speck of dirt on his perfect family-sized station wagon, Lily stopped screaming. She cried. L.J. wiped away a tear.

*** He said if she was bothered by him, then he would

leave, and she apologized for crying. She said she wasn’t sure why she had started, but that he reminded her of someone she met a long time ago. He thought that was funny because she reminded him of someone, too. But he said there was no way she could be the same person, because he hadn’t seen her in twenty years. She said it had only been eighteen. He said it was in a meadow, she said it was in a garden, outside of a mall. He agreed, and said that it was in Oregon, that he had been there to visit some relatives who had just moved there. She said that his rela-tives had moved there from Italy. Said it, not asked. And he confirmed it. She said that there was no way he was who she thought he was, and he said that her sentence was a little confusing. She said she had to go and he asked if she had been listening to the music that was playing. He said that the one that was on when she came in was about her; about the day they met. He had been writing songs for this band for years, and the band’s favorite songs were always the ones he wrote about her. She said that she didn’t think she was who he thought she was, and he said that she was. She apologized and got up to leave, but he followed asking her not to run away again. She said that they didn’t even know each other, that they knew nothing about each other and this could not possibly be what they thought it was, and he told her his name: Fiorello, and in Italian that means flower. He said that was all they needed to know about each other - they were both named after flowers.

*** It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that her sister confronted her. Jade asked L.J. who Phil was and Lily wanted to know where she got that name from. “You’ve been saying his name in your sleep.” L.J. denied it, but Jade knew what she heard and refused to let the subject die. The arguing continued until L.J. got fed up with it and left. She headed for the cof-fee shop she had been avoiding for the past few weeks. She had refused to even go down that street. She needed something from her comfort place. But instead she decided to check the coffee shop across the street and talk to Phil one more time. She would figure things out once and for all. She would stop this - whatever it was and make things make sense again. It wasn’t until she had marched through the door and straight up to the band to ask where Phil could be found that she realized the band playing was not the band that he wrote songs for. Embarrassed, she turned away from the singer who was staring at her as if she had grown an especially repulsive second nose, and went up to the barista. L.J. asked about the band that had been playing a couple of weeks ago, and the barista told her that they’d only been plan-ning on playing there for a week or two. They were on some sort of tour and they stopped at small places in every town they visited for only a few days and then moved on to the next one. The barista told her that it was way too late to get an autograph - that if she wanted something

She said she loved the flowers they were

standing in and he told her they were peonies.

She said that she would always love peonies,

and he told her that he would stay as long as

she did.

30 31

from one of them that she should’ve done it before and not put it off because now they were gone. Admonished more than she should have been by what the barista said to her, L.J. bought a cup of coffee and sat by herself in one of the back booths. Sat and thought. What a stupid thing for her to do, trying to avoid Phil. That was her only chance and now it was ruined. She’d run away. He wouldn’t want to see her now, anyway.

She couldn’t finish her drink; she just want-ed to sleep for a very long time. She stood, and threw out her still almost completely full coffee cup and went outside. One step. Two steps. Three steps before she realized there was someone watching her.

There was a little voice in the back of her head telling her that he had been there before she entered the coffee shop. Head up. Slow turn. Blank gaze. Who has he? Dark hair. Tanned skin. She forgot everything she’d told herself just before she went to the coffee shop. She did something she told herself she definitely would not do when she saw Phil again. She ran.

*** “I’m sorry.” “You could have just told me how you felt.” “I didn’t think you’d understand. I met a boy once a long time ago and now, eighteen years later, we meet again in a coffee shop I never even go to and I ran away because I didn’t understand what I was feeling.” “I think I would have understood.” L.J. only hesitated for a very long instant before admitting, “You’re still my best friend.” “I still love you.” “I’m sorry I ran away,” L.J. mumbled, leaning bash-fully against the gate outside of her apartment building. “I don’t mind that you ran away. The third time’s the charm, right? That’s why this time when you ran, it was into my arms.” Phil’s eyes twinkled as he leaned on the gate next to L.J., smiling gently at her. “Did you leave your band?” “No, I can e-mail them my songs when I make new ones. I’ll write more songs for you.” “I really liked the one you wrote about the day we met,” L.J. said as she made her way up the front steps of the building. “It seemed so familiar, like I’ve always known it.” “Well I’m glad you like it, since I wrote it for you,” Phil said, reaching over L.J. to hold the door open for her. “I’m glad you didn’t leave.” “I told you that I would stay as long as you did.” Phil smiled as he said it and L.J., once again, lost herself in his eyes.

She forgot everything she’d told herself before she went to the coffee shop. She did some-thing she told herself she would not do.

32 33

three women share their journeys through snapshots

32 33

34 35chinatristan clark

34 35china

36 37israel

36 37

tristan clark

israel

38 39

jessica farkas

thailand

38 39thailand

40 41jessica farkas

40 41

ghaan

42 43france

42 43france

annelise nelson

44

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