This page is updated every Monday


featuring work from: Cybelle Corwin, Thomas Wilson, Carlos Semedo, Jheyda McGarrell,
Zoe Yu Gilligan, Paige MacCready, Leo Horton, Jamel Darius. 


Home Video: Kaitlyn’s art show in NYC

By Cybelle Corwin

the four leaf clover 

by Thomas Wilson

i was playing football with my girlfriend. someone’s dog got loose and started chasing after me. 

the owner got up and ran over and picked up the dog. he said  “im sorry man” and he put the dog in his car.

he came back. he handed me a four leaf clover. he told me it was my lucky day.  i put it in my phone case.

my parents said they were divorcing each-other a couple hours later. 

im not sure if a divorce is going to be the best for me and my family. 

i kept thinking about the four leaf clover. 

maybe it is the best for my family. sometimes just latching onto symbols like a clover  or some small thing a stranger said  to give us hope is all we have. 

maybe it’s not the best to accept omen as fact. life is never like books or the movies. nothing really ever foreshadows anything in real life. 

get on with my day. 

i kept thinking about the clover. 


10 things, anything.

Recent Photographs

by Jheyda McGarrell

Exceptional Woman

By Zoe Yu Gilligan

When I deleted Instagram for half of 2018, I discovered that I’m not somebody who looks in mirrors much. It’s not that I never did or do, but it’s not something I do frequently or long enough to even consider a habit. For example, if I’m washing my hands after using the bathroom, I’ve found that I rarely look up in the mirror afterwards to fix my hair or see if that one pimple needs a touch-up. In fact, I’ll walk away from the bathroom and even think, “Why didn’t I check my appearance in the mirror when I had the chance?” I’ll shrug my shoulders in response and then go about my day. 


There is a certain expectation in our society that we must always clearly convey who we are and our purpose that probably has yet to even manifest. That is where I've continually made my mistake: expecting perpetual perfection and constant ease. There is no perfect person or scenario. It is okay to be misunderstood. It is okay even to misunderstand yourself. Why should there be a clear outline of myself when growth is a never-ending process? And that is where I am as of right now: understanding myself as much as I can amidst the tough growth spurts. Accepting why I am the way I am. Starting with what I have and not with what I do not have, with what I want, with what others have. 

The presence of our culture’s clock is difficult to overlook when confronting those beginnings. It seems that we've constructed our own time constraints, set our own deadlines, and signed up for short and long distance races with people we do not even know. We believe we are pushing ourselves by doing so, when in effect we are only limiting ourselves; we are limiting the possibilities and potentialities within us and within the world. 

We believe that if we do not get ahead of the game according to our culture’s clock, its hidden time-bomb will somehow explode and thus we will be eliminated from said-game. But there is no life referee who will announce your elimination from the sky. Only you can defeat yourself in this sense. You can put yourself back in the game as easily as you can take yourself out. And so what, if that time-bomb does explode? Take that time to rebuild, to grow. You can chase that train, but there’s always another one coming (save for those of us in New York).


Everything is always a comparison, a competition. I don’t even personally place myself within the standards of this society. It treats me as it wishes based on the way I look, but privately their rules do not apply to me. Only I know myself. The way I see and treat myself? I am an exception to every single damn rule. I carry that personal truth with me everyday, wherever I go: I am exceptional. That is the way I choose to live, regardless of how the world tries to treat me, and it’s brought me strength and happiness. I am exceptional.


Exceptional woman. Phenomenal too. 

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Ice Cream Bar

by Cybelle Corwin


by Paige MacCready

I’m texting you while I’m in the bookstore again, tipsy off one margarita and looking for my next, whatever that is

i only want to read things I can feel ruthlessly puncture and crawl into my skin.

I used to think telling stories had to be chronological, now they feel less linear.

feelings and people always coming back around at these moments we call serendipitous,

but life is always playing her cards.

one after another the dominos always fall the way their suppose to, even if the feelings that surround each brick may not align right away, but I think it’s within those gaps we grow stronger, build bridges to the other side of those experiences that break us into pieces.

the people who try to make us smaller, use our resources to fill their tanks,

I understand, I wish I didn’t.


by Leo Horton

☆Eternal Sleepover☆
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☆Eternal Sleepover☆
I want a copy
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