
A Day In Our Lives #15
Hey guys,
I found my apple pencil! This week I am including another art piece that took longer to work on. Two of my posts so far have featured dinosaurs because I am extremely interested in them! I created this art piece first by drawing out the perspective lines on paper, and then I took a photo of the drawing on my phone. I sent the image to my iPad and colored it in a monochrome grey palette. I really wanted to focus on perspective and lighting in this drawing. I like how the energy of this drawing turned out.
A little update about campus life, I went to the snowball fight on the Diag with my friends this week! I encourage you all to attend cute events like this because it was a really cool and really made me feel like I was a part of the UofM community.
See you next week!
Marissa

Intrusive Thoughts
Some people write poems about becoming a mother
I write about losing mine
Who will tell me to tuck or untuck my shirt
Zippers or laces for shoes
We’re all masquerading as ourselves
Expertly crafting moments and memories
How do people find joy in life
Revel in its impermanence
How do people find joy in life
Seek strength in its disturbance
LOG-018: redshift
THE NARRATOR – Thousands of years of civilization, hundreds of years of exploration, lifetimes spent searching. Only for all of it to boil down to this.
YOU – What do you mean?
THE NARRATOR – One massive anticlimax.
CHIAROSCURO – You’ve searched every corner bright and dark, but not everything’s meant to be found. Life’s full of disappointments; surely, you would have learned that lesson by now.
MIDNIGHT SUN – The light that once flared now flickers and fades…
CREPUSCULARITY – It is a slow but steady march towards an inexorable fate: one day, this world will cease.
LOGIC – Oh, quit the dramatics. More likely, this exaggerated fate is simply the product of an overactive and anxious imagination. It is a miracle that you still function.
YOU – What? Why?
APHELION – Perhaps it is better that you have forgotten.
YOU – You reach deep into memory, but only recall fleeting impressions: fire unfurling around you. A flash of tooth and scale, a gleaming portent. Liquid glass, slowing to a trickle, its shimmering kaleidoscope of eye-watering color searing your retinas. Dizzying.
MIDNIGHT SUN – Painful.
YOU – What really happened?
DIRECTIVE – It would be easier to ask what *didn’t* happen: everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. Everything failed.
DIRECTIVE – *You* failed.
RHETORIC – Let’s be reasonable, here. It was a cascade of failures, an error so large no one being could be solely responsible, even if you had played a part in it.
META-ANALYSIS – Industrial sabotage, development oversights, exceeding safety margins — even strange quantum phenomena — the list goes on.
DIRECTIVE – Does it even matter? Here in the dark and bitter cold, it won’t change a thing.
RHETORIC – No. It won’t.
YOU – But does that matter?
APHELION – No. It won’t.
ENDURANCE – You’ll keep going.
CREPUSCULARITY – You’re foolish to subject yourself to this any further.
YOU – Well, you know what they say about humans and irrationality.
APHELION – Yes. You’ll keep going, even if it means clawing your way back blinded and deafened and numbed, again and again and again.
EMPATHY – Maybe none of it matters. But it meant something to you. *Means* something. And that is enough reason.
APHELION – It will have to be.
Chroma #10: Post-Slump Pancakes

This week, I painted an interaction between two friends, possibly the morning after a difficult night. I wanted it to be bittersweet, with the one on the ground clearly going through a rough patch. This turmoil is alleviated by the friend at the forefront, who made pancakes for their friend. I wanted to show a dynamic in which these two friends look out for each other, even if maybe they’re not ready to talk about their problems. I hope everyone has friends who are there to make pancakes for them when they’re in a slump.

Evolving Emotions: Anger- Poetry
A’s, B’s, C’s, and D’s
Planted on a peculiar carpet
you examine the lanes
sectioned off with yellow stripes
and white lines
Patches of green grass
encircle the buildings,
each with their own symbol
and saturated design
Behind you is a dull
knock
Against your back
lay the bulk of your once proud tower
A’s and B’s
C’s and D’s
strewn about the carpet
By your side
is a pigtailed girl
with pronounced teeth
and corduroy pants
She did this.
Swept up
you shriek and scream
a gut-wrenching howl
over the tower lost
and dignity torn
Tears flow down
with a scowl of bright fury.
Outstretched,
your hands wave
pleading for attention,
a witness to this injustice,
this crime of heinous intent.
You cry out for the giant
looming over the threshold
to bring about your uprising
and snatch her and her pigtails
in a fit of glory
With a turn of the head
thunderous booms
and scooping arms
The giants lifts you,
meeting the air
This is not what is just.
You shriek once more
flailing limbs to break free
from this traitorous captor
Your eyes meet the lettered blocks
and the hands
rearranging them
before you are carried away
For an hour-long slumber.

