Untitled

Rachel Lu, Staff Writer

June 1, 2016

She is the crimson streak at dawn, up above everyone else, fiery and fierce; energy explodes through her fingertips. He is her complement, a soft mauve, muted, a support color, not one to stand out by itself. She is the red leaves clothing the trees at fall, skipping along the sidewalk, barely skimming t...

The David

Alex Wong, Staff Writer

June 1, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-8

“I used to be scared of reimagining the colors, you know. Always scared that I’d forget and start making them all up again.” “Imagine this,” the guide said. He stared into the man’s eyes. “In front of you is ‘The David.’ Not the big one, but the bronze one, slender and sly. Donate...

Canvas

Tino Tugwete, Staff Writer

June 1, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-8

To my Canvas, You gave yourself to me And from your veins I took red You poured lemon grass in my violent storms And blood orange in my tortured skies But I repaid you in watercolor Only muted hues passed these lips For those cost me nothing Those betrayed not...

Blinking

Booker Martin, Staff Writer

June 1, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-8

This world is encompassed by Eyes reaching wide enough to hide Behind the eyelids that squint as Fleeting smiles fade from view Now eyes are closed Yet they can see the Tattered seams of undone dreams Tangled in throats that scream For someone to listen But all it...

Band-Aids

Emily Terada, Senior Writer

June 1, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-8

As a little kid, red was a picture perfect summer. Sounds of the ice cream truck sent every kid in the neighborhood running A couple of dollars could buy you any type of popsicle you desired; I liked the red ones, where crimson lips would make My sugary actions caught red-tongued. Popsicles that ...

Untitled

Sarah Katsev, Guest Writer

June 1, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-8

Red evokes emotions I’ve felt while standing in line in public bathrooms, simultaneously trying to plug my nose and my bladder– fear (that my nose or bladder will somehow become unplugged), animosity (towards my fellow bathroom goers), and regret (why did I sell my soul to the devil if I didn’t...

Red Is

Margo Lusinchi, Guest Writer

June 1, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-8

full lips waiting she doesn’t knock bare feet over slick marble fabric swishing across waxy legs the scarlet catches a glass slipping off the edge of a low table scattered shards but no blood is drawn thick wine trickles down smooth edges but leaves no...

Sanguine Fury

Sonnet Phelps, Guest Writer

May 18, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-8

the joke reddens our faces and we clutch, shaking, at our bellies, lips stretched tight across teeth as our heads swing lightheadedly skyward and our eyes, bouncing, roll gleefully back in maniacal convulsion as does the bloodthirst which reddens our faces and our hands, shaking, clut...

The Influence

Jim Hollingworth, Alice Dai, Eli Colbert, Claire Bai, Miranda Li, Tino Tugwete, Emily Terada, Kevin Yen, Chris Dadok, Alexis Malgesini, and Cole Hanson

May 2, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-7

Teaching young people about drugs is not precise: however individualized the curriculum, it will never be enough to account for the diversity of young people. A high school student who is intent on using drugs will not likely be discouraged by a health class or a student newspaper. And despite being...

Personal Column: The Morgue

Douglas Curtis, Guest Columnist

March 9, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-6, Web Exclusive

During the summers, I intern in a necropsy lab performing autopsies. Death is so often viewed with intense sadness and pessimism, however, dealing with death on a daily basis has taught me to do the opposite. Each day I face a new circumstance and a different range of difficulties, from the physical...

Personal Column: Curtains

Julia Santos, Staff Writer

March 9, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-6

My aunt was shot by her husband when I was 9 years old. He shot her twice, once in the chest and once in the head, and then once in his own hand; he told the police he was shielding himself and my aunt from the intruders when they were shot. Without, being aware of the truth, my grandma called to...

Personal Column: War Face

Eli Colbert, Staff Writer

March 9, 2016

Filed under In-Depth, Issue-6

I remember learning about it when I was a kid. I remember when the existence of death was bad news. I think it was in Sunday School that I was told Moses had bitten the fertile dust of the Promised Land, all those nutrients from milk and honey notwithstanding. I kept to my room for the next few days...