Nyheisha is an African American female artist and writer, specializing in drawing, painting, and sculpture. She was formally trained as an art historian and studio artist. Her art work focuses on a variety of subject matter from gender roles, beauty ideals, religion, politics, and her identity as a contemporary artist in the African diaspora.
See more of Nyheisha’s work on her website.
I find that my specialty is scenery photos from outside of the city. I travel a lot with my husband, so I take pictures anywhere and everywhere if it seems like the perfect time. Photography is a passion of mine. The sun, and the stars. The dusk, and dawn. When I see it, I seize the opportunity. Sometimes I have to get down in the dirt, or in the snow- but that’s how you get the greatest photos.
D.M. Heaberlin is a published author, photographer, and she also enjoys writing poetry. She spends her time in the desert area of Texas. She enjoys the outdoors. Mostly fishing, hunting, and spending time with her husband.
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Ruth E. Fabiano is a contemporary painter and artistic Jill-of-all-trades working from her studio in upstate South Carolina. She works in the mediums of wood, canvas, and sculpture. She has a B.A. in anthropology from Buffalo State College, which gave her the opportunity to travel to unusual places. These landscapes and cultural experiences can be seen in her paintings.
Maeror is my rendition of the last photograph taken of Vicky Weaver by a US Marshall’s surveillance agent during the Ruby Ridge massacre. In the photograph Vicky is mourning the loss of her 14-year-old son Sammy, killed by agents. Vicky Weaver would be shot through the head by FBI sniper Lon Horiuchi while standing in a cabin door and holding her and Randy’s baby, Sara. The Ruby Ridge massacre is far removed from collective memory, stripped of historical mention, its victims and perpetrators forgotten and overshadowed by carefully compacted slogans, rhyming chants, and manufactured outrage. I hope it will live on as Maeror, an American Pietà to the memory of Vicky Weaver and symbol to the people of the land.
Vek is a self taught artist, currently based in Florida, whose artwork is influenced by science, history, and culture.
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The Reckless Ones
The windshield drowns in moisture
No one can judge us now
Can’t hear our intellect now
How can they say we’re different now?
They can’t see our originality
through the window tint
Can’t hear our voices over their own emptiness
Water the seeds to murder the crop
hide the burdens to birth the stupidity,
yet after all that, we’re the reckless ones.
Why expect they could see through clear glass
when they can’t even render themselves?
Little cowards with so much potential
throwing it away for a quick glance at society
If the crowd measures individuality
we’d be the big zero, but numerous in translucency
beaten to death with today’s extremely ‘high’ standards,
built on a reputation that denies morals their existence,
yet after all that, we’re the reckless ones
To be described as such but feel so relaxed;
we’re not the ones demolishing our future’s potential.
Maybe tomorrow, today will mock the unjustified yesterday
Maybe they’ll fall into an inevitable maturity;
Maybe they’ll fall into us,
yet after all that, we’re still the reckless ones…
and I’m standing here
on the world to turn a little faster.
The sun is covered
by the irritated clouds
they’ll return his freedom.
like the whites of the ocean
to come in contact with beauty.
I hope you know that beauty is you.
fills a dark sky;
You are nowhere to be found.
I sit here
in the past from which I’ll never emerge.
Turn You Into A Song
When you’re not around,
I turn you into a song.
I channel through
the world of lyrics
until I find a melody
with you inside of it.
I listen deeply
sing all the words I know,
and turn my empty sad mind
into a happy place that I envy.
I Outloved You
If I told myself,
even for a second,
that I needed you at all…
That was a second
my mind was displaced.
I guess you never knew
just how much
of a pathological nuisance
you had become.
You’re just too deaf
but hear me
when I say
that’s exactly what you are-
a nuisance, to say the least.
If, in a desperate moment,
I needed you
but you were long gone.
I supressed; overcame.
Your memory dissipated
like dew on the green,
…and I outloved you.
Kerri Gates-White is a 29-year-old writer and an amateur photographer from Jackson, Tennessee. Writing since childhood, Kerri received third place in a writing contest at the age of 14. She had multiple poems published by a local publishing company at that time. Kerri is a mother of two daughters, ages 6 and 9. She works in retail management, and is currently a Junior at Belhaven University. She is studying to obtain her Bachelor’s of Science degree in Business Administration with an emphasis on Criminal Justice.
once you flip the channel
or change your mind
munitions are collected
like cadavers in a morgue