Illustration by Wade Gillespie
Father and Daughter.
In this image lies a story not of what was, but of what could have been—a whispered moment stolen from the hands of time and pieced together by love, longing, and loss. The man, now gone, left no photograph of himself cradling his daughter. And so, with trembling hands and a heavy heart, a new memory was forged—a patchwork of light and shadow, hope and heartbreak. The forms align imperfectly, as life itself often does, but the essence—the yearning for connection—shines through the seams. It is a fragile artifact of love, created where reality fell short.
The weight of this creation is almost unbearable. To look at it is to feel the ache of absence and the beauty of a bond imagined. The father, lost to the cruel grip of addiction, will never truly hold her. And yet, in this picture, he does. It is a lie, yes, but one told with the softest of intentions. A placeholder for the warmth she’ll never know, an echo of a love that addiction tried, but failed, to erase. Still, there is sadness in its fabrication—a sadness that she may one day uncover the truth and feel the emptiness of realizing that the arms holding her here were never real.
If only the world were gentler. If only little girls didn’t have to grow up without their fathers, robbed of a love that should have been their birthright. This picture, flawed as it may be, is a prayer—a prayer for connection, for healing, for a world where loss doesn’t leave such deep scars. And though the edges are imperfect, though the truth of it may sting one day, it stands as a testament to the unyielding human spirit. Even in the face of death, we create. Even in the shadow of despair, we imagine. We hold onto hope, even if it’s only pixels deep.
Illustration by Wade Gillespie
Symmetry of the Unseen
Chaos and order are bound, an eternal dance of contrasts. Chaos, to me, is not the absence of order but its evolution—a shifting mosaic where patterns emerge in unexpected places. To claim there is no order in chaos is to misunderstand the nature of both. What appears as chaos is merely the complexity of many orders intertwining, like rivers converging into turbulent rapids before finding calm again.
Even in the quantum world, where randomness reigns supreme, there exists a framework—probability, the shadow of order in the realm of uncertainty. On a human scale, our disruption, our havoc, is not separate from nature’s rhythms but an expression of them, albeit one out of harmony.
If chaos is the clashing of orders, then it holds its own strange symmetry—a pattern waiting for the right lens to reveal its meaning. The wanderer, neither good nor bad, embodies this balance, the space between extremes. In chaos, I see potential, a reminder that what seems disordered today may, in time, unfold as a masterpiece of unseen design.
Illustration Emma Tumanyan
Fractured, Yet Divine
I was whole once, untouched by the storms. Now, each fracture tells a story—pain, defiance, survival. The red burns with rage and passion; the yellow flickers like hope barely clinging on. My hair spirals with untamed thoughts, shadows twisting through the chaos. My gaze cuts through it all, daring you to look closer. I am fractured, but I am not broken—I am the storm.
Illustration by Michel Ketelaar
Scream
You stand before me, feeling the heat of my fiery reds and oranges, the urgency of my chaos pulling you in. My deep blues and whites reach out to you, a cry for peace and hope that resonates somewhere deep within. You see my bold, untamed strokes—each one a declaration, a refusal to be silenced. I speak to your frustration, your longing for change, and your dream of a better world. Look closer, and you’ll find layers of anguish and compassion, a scream that echoes your own desire for unity and love. I am here to remind you that the fight for a brighter future starts with voices like yours.
Illustration by Hermes Varini, PhD
From the Blue Lightning
Faith, balance, and protection,
A shield of heritage, a guiding reflection.
Diverse are the paths, yet they converge,
A universal connection, divine principles emerge.
The pursuit of truth, a sword in hand,
Cutting through falsehoods, where justice stands.
Guardians rise, warriors of light,
A higher cause calls in the dead of night.
Action, movement, a purposeful flow,
Unity, eternity, the universe we know.
All elements together, bound in grace,
Enlightenment shines from a timeless place.
Lightning evokes energy, a spark to ignite,
Divine inspiration, transformation in sight.
EX HOC FVLMINE CÆRVLEO, it proclaims,
A revelation born of celestial flames.
White for purity, red for the fight,
Sacrifice and passion fuse in the light.
A balance held between ideals and strife,
The dynamic clash of chaos and life.
A sense of motion, an eternal thread,
Order and disorder, where the brave have tread.
Transformation whispers, divine intervention,
In the cosmos unfolds, our sacred intention.
A shield of heritage, a guiding reflection.
Diverse are the paths, yet they converge,
A universal connection, divine principles emerge.
The pursuit of truth, a sword in hand,
Cutting through falsehoods, where justice stands.
Guardians rise, warriors of light,
A higher cause calls in the dead of night.
Action, movement, a purposeful flow,
Unity, eternity, the universe we know.
All elements together, bound in grace,
Enlightenment shines from a timeless place.
Lightning evokes energy, a spark to ignite,
Divine inspiration, transformation in sight.
EX HOC FVLMINE CÆRVLEO, it proclaims,
A revelation born of celestial flames.
White for purity, red for the fight,
Sacrifice and passion fuse in the light.
A balance held between ideals and strife,
The dynamic clash of chaos and life.
A sense of motion, an eternal thread,
Order and disorder, where the brave have tread.
Transformation whispers, divine intervention,
In the cosmos unfolds, our sacred intention.
Illustration by Wade Gillespie
Forged in Shadows
The shadow met me on a stormy plain, its grin sharp with certainty. "Step forward," it whispered, daring me. I did, toes on the line, knowing no fairness lay ahead. Each blow it dealt left me bruised, yet stronger; each defeat, a lesson. I hated losing more than I loved to win, but even loss became a forge, tempering my resolve.
The shadow claimed its victory, hollow and fleeting, for in every strike, it had sharpened me. The fight itself was the prize—a forge of courage and strength. And when it returns, I’ll meet it again, toes on the line, ready to rise.
The shadow claimed its victory, hollow and fleeting, for in every strike, it had sharpened me. The fight itself was the prize—a forge of courage and strength. And when it returns, I’ll meet it again, toes on the line, ready to rise.
Illustration by Mabel Bridge
Silent Mirror
Beneath the crown of roses, she holds the weight of stories untold, a garden grown from whispers and wounds. Each petal a memory, soft yet sharp, blooming against the backdrop of time. Her gaze, steady and distant, carries the burden of knowing too much—of seeing the world through a lens both human and mechanical, where beauty collides with precision, and nature dances with invention.
The lace at her throat, intricate as a spider’s web, binds her to a truth only she can understand. It is not captivity but a choice, a quiet defiance dressed as grace. The rose nestled there, close to her heart, pulses with unspoken words, a testament to the fragility of the voice she chooses not to use.
She is a portrait of contradictions—softness and strength, fragility and endurance, the timeless and the new. She invites you closer, not to reveal her secrets, but to reflect your own. For in her silence, there is a mirror, and in her stillness, there is a question: What do you see when you look at me? What do you fear to see in yourself?
The lace at her throat, intricate as a spider’s web, binds her to a truth only she can understand. It is not captivity but a choice, a quiet defiance dressed as grace. The rose nestled there, close to her heart, pulses with unspoken words, a testament to the fragility of the voice she chooses not to use.
She is a portrait of contradictions—softness and strength, fragility and endurance, the timeless and the new. She invites you closer, not to reveal her secrets, but to reflect your own. For in her silence, there is a mirror, and in her stillness, there is a question: What do you see when you look at me? What do you fear to see in yourself?
Illustration by Mabel Bridge
Who is Sable Ridge?
Sabel Ridge is your unlikable character—a cunning mastermind cloaked in elegance and darkness. The graveyard-adorned hat and sly smile suggest that she thrives on control, manipulation, and intrigue. A symbol of danger and allure, she challenges morals and captivates through unapologetic boldness.
Illustration by Adrianus Boogers
Ephemeral Whispers
A dreamlike breath, ethereal and deep,
Nature's forces awake, then sleep.
Warmth and mystery, a fleeting embrace,
An ephemeral moment, time leaves no trace
Nature's forces awake, then sleep.
Warmth and mystery, a fleeting embrace,
An ephemeral moment, time leaves no trace
Playground on the Hill
Upon the hill’s crest, our playground lies,
A sanctuary where Mark’s spirit flies.
More than a friend, a brother true,
In life’s fabric, his essence weaved through.
A sanctuary where Mark’s spirit flies.
More than a friend, a brother true,
In life’s fabric, his essence weaved through.
I remember memories that paint a past so warm,
Calico Cut and Curl, a family loved, in every form.
His mother’s cheers, through time, still ring,
A testament to the joy they’d bring.
Calico Cut and Curl, a family loved, in every form.
His mother’s cheers, through time, still ring,
A testament to the joy they’d bring.
Side by side, on the field, we’d stand,
Mark, the heart, and the Warriors hand in hand.
More than teammates, spirits akin,
Bound by a game, a kinship within.
Mark, the heart, and the Warriors hand in hand.
More than teammates, spirits akin,
Bound by a game, a kinship within.
A leader, linebacker, and kicker in the game so bright,
Mark’s greatness shone, in spirit and light.
Though from this world, he has departed,
His legacy, in me, firmly hearted.
Mark’s greatness shone, in spirit and light.
Though from this world, he has departed,
His legacy, in me, firmly hearted.
Youthful antics, laughter, and that backyard fight,
Sleepovers, mischief, and soaping cars at night.
Each moment with Mark, a cherished thread,
In the tapestry of friendship, joyously spread.
Sleepovers, mischief, and soaping cars at night.
Each moment with Mark, a cherished thread,
In the tapestry of friendship, joyously spread.
Reflecting on paths that were never to be,
In memories of Mark, solace I see.
A friend cherished, a teammate esteemed,
In the essence of who he was, my heart is redeemed.
In memories of Mark, solace I see.
A friend cherished, a teammate esteemed,
In the essence of who he was, my heart is redeemed.
Mark’s spirit, youthful, forever will dwell,
In my being, his story, I’ll forever tell.
On the hill’s playground, his legacy stays,
A reminder of friendship, and love’s enduring ways.
In my being, his story, I’ll forever tell.
On the hill’s playground, his legacy stays,
A reminder of friendship, and love’s enduring ways.
A Thanksgiving Prayer in Poem Form
God, we thank You for the gift of today,
For family gathered and those far away.
Your blessings abound in love so divine,
A thread that connects us, a heavenly sign.
For family gathered and those far away.
Your blessings abound in love so divine,
A thread that connects us, a heavenly sign.
Thank You for Your overreaching hug,
A blanket that shields, warm and snug.
From Indy’s heartland to oceans of blue,
From Kentucky bluegrass to lands down under too.
A blanket that shields, warm and snug.
From Indy’s heartland to oceans of blue,
From Kentucky bluegrass to lands down under too.
Give us abundance in all we ask for,
In love, in health, in peace, and more.
Bless this food, make us healthy and strong,
And guide us in grace as we journey along.
In love, in health, in peace, and more.
Bless this food, make us healthy and strong,
And guide us in grace as we journey along.
For laughter and love, for moments of peace,
For memories that linger and joys that increase,
We thank You, dear God, for mercies anew,
Our hearts lift in praise and gratitude to You.
For memories that linger and joys that increase,
We thank You, dear God, for mercies anew,
Our hearts lift in praise and gratitude to You.
Amen.