She’s just a girl who writes to figure out the role she must play in this world.

Time

will always leave its mark;

people have a way of leaving footprints behind

that will endure

though their body have decayed,

the passing is the only thing that stays.

And the wind blows

to erode the mountains,

the waves lap against the shores,

the rain will drizzle

until the memories fade away

the passing is the only thing that will stay.

People talk of permanence

as if they have lived long enough

to watch it overstay

but the passing is only thing that stays.

View more works by Nessie here on Narratio:

My Poetry Never Ends

Dear Lovely

The Dead Don’t Care

I Didn’t Know This Was How Poets Were Born

All content is published exactly as sent by the author in order to preserve the integrity of the work.

The Passing is the Only Thing That Will Stay was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

It is late at night and all is asleep,
All but me for sleep does not come easily
To the starving, tortured artist.

What shall I paint? What shall I write? What shall I play?
To what shall I dance? To what shall I act out?
With what shall I place on this blank canvas before me?
My hands absentmindedly run over the pens and pencils,
The paintbrushes, the violin, the bow, the maps,
The different instruments at my disposal.

And then eureka, it came upon me,
To call upon the Muses of old Grecian legends,
The daughters of the god Zeus and the Titaness Mnemosyne,
Pupils of the god Apollo,
Women of divine beauty who inspire beauty of all forms.

I call upon thee, Calliope, ‘O Muse of epic poetry,
She who holds the writing tablet and stylus,
She whose voice holds an ecstatic harmony.
I beg of thee to grant thy loyal servant,
A story like no other,
Of far-off places, daring sword fights,
Magic spells, a prince in disguise,
Of epic heroes on epic quests,
Those who prevail above horrendous monsters,
And their own inner demons.

I call upon thee, Clio, ‘O Muse of history,
She who holds the scroll, book, and laurel wreath,
She who proclaims, glorifies, and celebrates history,
Great deeds, and accomplishments.
I beg of thee to grant thy loyal servant,
A recount like no other,
Of war victories and political breakthroughs,
Of pioneers and innovators,
Of great empires and cultural evolutions.

I call upon thee, Euterpe, ‘O Muse of music and song,
She who holds the aulos and panpipes,
She who gives delight,
I beg of thee to grant thy loyal servant,
A song like no other,
Of melodious and harmonious euphony,
Of an emotional assemblage,
Of sweet tunes that lifts the soul and buries the darkness,
From any genre, I shall sing and play it,
With a voice that carries far,
And strings that vibrate upon the touch of a bow.

I call upon thee, Erato, ‘O Muse of love poetry,
She who holds the cithara,
She who charms the sight,
I beg of thee to grant thy loyal servant,
A love like no other,
A great love of passion and commitment,
To which I could make art out of,
A love so colourful, I cannot recall what shadows are,
One so powerful and deep, it’ll make angels burn with envy.

I call upon thee, Melpomene, ‘O Muse of tragedy,
She who holds the tragic mask, sword, club, and cothurnos,
She who brings about tears of sorrow to her human children,
I beg of thee to grant thy loyal servant,
A tragedy like no other,
Of heroes with downfalls,
Of losses of innocence,
Of death and destruction,
With a Red Sea of spilt blood and pain,
Where mourning is the norm and night reigns forevermore.

I call upon thee, Polyhymnia, ‘O Muse of hymns,
She who holds the veil and grapes,
She, the very depiction of solemnness and pensiveness,
Who glides through this world with the utmost eloquence,
I beg of thee to grant thy loyal servant,
A hymn like no other,
One to praise the deities,
To proclaim my adoration for them,
Another to peacefully pray in times of trouble and turmoil.

I call upon thee, Terpsichore, ‘O Muse of dance,
She who holds the lyre and plectrum,
She who mothered the Sirens, liberal arts, and fine arts,
Who entertained the gods on Mount Olympus,
I beg of thee to grant thy loyal servant,
A dance like no other,
One that allows me to interpret my heart with my body,
I will be a weaver of physical movements,
My physique, the needle,
The stage, my tapestry,
Give me the strength to move to my heart’s content,
To lure awe from my audience as they watch,
Let their eyes move with me as I leap across my platform.

I call upon thee, Thalia, ‘O Muse of comedy,
She who holds the comic mask and ivy wreath,
She who brings forth tears of mirth to her loving worshippers,
I beg of thee to grant thy loyal servant,
A comedy like no other,
One that will fill the viewer with hearty laughter,
Momentarily erasing what fears, distress, and misfortune,
They may possess.
Give me a reason to draw out hilarity so organic,
It will drive away what inhibitions I may hold within.

I call upon thee, Urania, ‘O Muse of astronomy,
She who holds the globe and compass,
She who lifts men’s souls to heavenly heights,
I beg of thee to grant thy loyal servant,
A philosophy like no other,
An open mind and an open heart,
To see the stars and celestial bodies and beyond,
Please give me guidance and assistance,
In the navigation of my mind.
What doth the position of the stars say?
Of what news do the constellations bring?
Tell me this and more,
And I shall never forget your wisdom.

Dawn has arrived,
And the sun is waking from its slumber,
My eyes are heavy but my mind is racing,
My prayers have been answered for bless me,
I have found a brilliant, new idea,
My heart yearns to share its knowledge with the world.

The rooster crows and the birds chirp and sing,
I scan the horizons and drink in the sheer magnificence around me,
With a stretch and a yawn, I bleed out ink and songs,
Filling papers upon papers with evidence of my imagination.

All content is published exactly as sent by the author in order to preserve the integrity of the work.

Musings of an Artist was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Jelisa Peterson was born in Ogden, Utah in 1969. Her interest in photography began at age seven when she received her first camera. Her passion for photography was ignited when she worked as a volunteer intern for a women’s organization in Zimbabwe from 1993 through 1994. Degrees in Anthropology and Women’s Studies inform her work in terms of subject, themes and understanding.

Jelisa’s images concentrate on people with a particular focus on women and children. She has lived and worked in Zimbabwe, Mozambique and South Africa and has traveled extensively in Eastern and Southern Africa.

Jelisa lives in Austin, Texas. She will be returning to Africa to create new images in 2017

When did you realize that you can use photography to bring people together?

While I was working for the women’s group, Jekesa Pfungwa in Zimbabwe as a intern in 1993, I began to seriously pursue photography. I wanted to document everything I was seeing and experiencing in part to share with my friends and family at the conclusion of my internship. As Jekesa Pfungwa’s information officer, I began to make use of my photography to support the vital work we were doing.

There was a severe drought that year in Zimbabwe and part of my responsibilities were writing grant proposals to European donor agencies to get funding for our programs for the women. I quickly realized how essential the images could prove in illustrating the dire situation that Zimbabweans were experiencing. It is one thing to write about the terrible situations caused by the drought but it is quite another to be able to see the dry earth, thin bodies and sick children for oneself. The grants were more successful when I began to include these devastating images. It became real for people who were faraway.

You have travelled to and captured photographs in almost 20 countries, what patterns have you noticed through the lens of your camera?

One thing that I have noticed while taking photographs in many different African settings is how difficult it can be to get candid images of adults. People tend to quickly pose themselves when they notice the lens coming their way. Maintaining dignity is important and for some people this means appearing serious and not smiling.

Familiarity and trust can break down these barriers but this takes time and good interaction which makes a lot of sense. Spending a lot of time in one area and repeated visits gives me the best opportunities for more natural portraits. Keeping my word when I say I will bring back photos to the community is much appreciated and creates trust. Another thing that helps build trust is allowing myself to be photographed. I enjoy this very much.

You’ve done a lot of work across Africa, and Mozambique in particular. Can you tell us more about some of your experiences?

I have been able to make several close friendships over the years while working in Mozambique. The closest friend I’ve made while working on a photography project is Sam. I learned many years later that Sam wasn’t his real name but one he gave himself to sell jewelry and guide tourists visiting Ilha de Mozambique (Island of Mozambique). The first time I visited the island was in 2003. Sam was about 13 years old. He spoke a bit of English and I spoke only a few words in Portuguese. Despite this challenge, he was keen to sell his jewelry and make money giving me a tour.

Sam was was the first “guide” I was able to hire to work with me. I had never had enough money on my other trips to spend a few extra dollars per day for an assistant. I probably paid him two or three dollars a day plus sodas and snacks. It was a decent amount of money for a kid there in those days. We figured out how to work together. Sam carried my small backpack and camera bag and walked with me. I taught him how to hold a camera and how to load and unload film. I was there for a few weeks. I got the best shots I had to date.

I next visited with my mom in 2005. Sam’s English had improved as well as his status as a tour guide. There were many boys interested in earning money but Sam was stood out from the others with his winning personality, smile and skills. He was eager to work, some of the money he earned went toward his school fees. This time I taught Sam how to change a lense and carry and shoot from a second camera. Always perceptive and good with people, he was invaluable to me and we became even better friends.

“ I was quite worried that I might not see him again. ”

Sam didn’t have a phone and there was no internet on the island yet. I assumed I’d be visiting again relatively soon. So I wasn’t worried about being able to keep in touch. But things didn’t go as I planned. I thought of Sam many times over the years and hoped he was well. But I had no way of contacting him.

In June of 2013, I managed to make it back to Ilha de Mozambique. Sam wasn’t around when I arrived but I was asking everyone I met if they knew Sam and if he was still there. No one knew anyone named Sam even when I showed them photos. I was quite worried that I might not see him again. I went to sleep feeling very depressed.

Early the next morning, I awoke to someone shouting my name. I came out of my room and there was Sam. News travels quickly in a place like that. I learned Sam’s real name is Anrane and that is why no one knew who I was asking about. We were so happy to see one another after all of those years. He told me he had a surprise for me but he couldn’t show me for a few hours.

We talked and walked around and chatted with people for quite some time. Finally, we stopped at a house and Sam asked me to wait while he went inside. He came out with a pretty young girl. He told me he wanted to introduce his daughter Jelisa to me. It such a special moment to meet a namesake I didn’t even know that I had. It has been amazing to get to know her and to be able to give her some things to make her life better.

What are some challenges that you’ve faced as a photographer?

The biggest challenges I have faced as a photographer are financial and security issues. To pursue the types of images I want to make, I have devoted any extra money that I could save toward travel, film and equipment. Despite traveling in the most organized and modest ways possible, it is still incredibly expensive. No news there.

As a woman, I have not been able to go to many places I would have liked to visit due to personal safety issues. Even if I am able to go the city, town or community I desire, I am still limited to daylight hours, “safer” areas and little interaction with men. Limited communication can makes things like directions, introductions, transportation and accommodation more challenging. Traveling independently does not fit into most locally prescribed gender roles and this can cause confusion and possible danger for me.

How have your life experiences influenced your work?

The life experience that has been greatest influence on my work is without a doubt my education. I was drawn toward social studies in general and Anthropology and Women’s Studies in particular during my university years. I would say that most of my photographs echo the lessons of my areas of study. I view much of life through these lenses.

Can you describe the creative process involved with the capturing of your photographs?

The intuitive, magical moments when I am able to create my images require a great deal of objective planning and execution to provide a foundation so I am able to work from intuition. This includes all of the prep and organization in getting myself to some remote and faraway communities. Being able to quickly find someone I feel I can trust, someone who is well thought of in the community and a person I feel I can work well with who will assist me has been a crucial part of my process for some time.

“Talking about the places I have lived and visited in Africa creates connections.”

Working with my assistant, we start before the sun rises to walk, to greet people and create connections within the community. I really love working and playing with children and have an easy way with them. Being open, friendly and respectful helps in creating openings with adults. Taking part in activities as simple as sharing a meal, visiting a local leader or a place of worship can set the scene for developing friendship and trust. Asking questions and being open to new experiences is important. Talking about the places I have lived and visited in Africa creates connections.

My best work is created when I have a lot time to spend with people in their communities. All of these efforts lend themselves to creating a space where I can make compose authentic moments on film.

What do you hope that your work achieves?

“African life is not just about hunger, disease and war.”

I have several hopes for my work. I hope to challenge visual stereotypes of African people. To me this means creating images which show the beauty in everyday life. It means capturing many moments of happiness and joy. It means revealing a range of emotions in my images: peace, pride, satisfaction, tenderness. African life is not just about hunger, disease and war.

I hope to donate my original negatives and digital work of more than twenty years and growing to an organization who will well care for them so the images can provide an important visual, historical and cultural legacy for the people of Mozambique and used for their benefit.

What is the most important part of a photograph?

To me, the most important part of photograph is the truth it reveals. That truth could be its’ beauty, its’ vision of reality or its use of color. It could be the attention paid to technical excellence or its’ challenge of the traditional rules of photography.

The truth could be the progress of an individual photographer or the mastery of the art to another one.

How can youth use their art for empowerment?

I believe that youth can utilize their art for empowerment. One of the most important ways it can be used lies in the ability to express themselves and make a statement about who they are or what they believe in.

Whether they write, paint, or photograph or act, sing or play a musical instrument, youth can develop abilities and skills which give self-confidence and promote pride in themselves. These are the foundations of empowerment.

If you could give one piece of advice to someone struggling to express themselves, what would it be?

My one piece of advice to anyone struggling to express themselves would be to practice patience and perseverance with themselves. Self-expression can feel intimidating and difficult to begin. In my own life, I have seen that it takes time and diligence to achieve the advancements I was searching for in myself. It has taken me years to feel confident in expressing myself.

For some people, it may not take so long but don’t give up if the process seems long and difficult.

To follow Jelisa’s work, visit jelisapeterson.com or find her on Instagram.

Interview by Ahmed Badr, all photos courtesy of Jelisa Peterson.

Chapter 2: Jelisa Peterson was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Introduction

In the beginning of time there were three gods.

The Goddess of Darkness was the oldest and wisest, her hair was so dark and long it seemed as if it never ended. Her skin was pale but she had the soft glow of the moon inside of her. She was gentle and sweet, but had a cool and mysterious demeanor, no one knew what she was thinking or what she would do next.

The Goddess of Light was created not long after. She had a child-like heart and radiated with love. She was ambitious and brave, in result she always had a craving for adventure. She only spoke the truth for her heart was too pure to deceit anyone. Her hair was short, and of course, the color of the sun, with the base of the brightest yellow and red undertones. She never minded sharing the sky with her sister, they had a bond and a love that one can only pray to have with a sibling.

The God of Life, or as he would prefer The Fire of Life. His temper was never the best, but he had a passion that burned for all eternity. He likes to take credit for creating the humans, but many like to believe that it took all three gods. He was strapping and handsome, with caramel skin and golden hair that shimmered at every turn. His specialty was his eyes. They were red in the center and faded into yellow in the corners. When he looked into one’s eyes he can see their hearts deepest desires. It would be up to him to see if that desire came true.

It was rumored that the three kingdoms were fashioned in their image and the ruling families were direct descendants of the gods. The gods created the families out of pure intentions and love.

Darkness’s first child was a man named Ortho. Light’s child was woman named Belle. Life’s child was also a woman named Celine. The children grew up together and cared for each other equally. Until one day, Ortho declared his love for Celine. Celine in shock said she would give him an answer the next day.

Belle grew extremely jealous for she had loved Ortho since they were children, so she went to her mother. Belle claimed that she felt pity for Ortho so she asked for a love potion to give to Celine. The Goddess of Light, not knowing the intentions of her daughter, gave her the potion. Belle gave the potion to Ortho and kissed him making it so that he fell in love with her.

Celine on her way to accept Ortho’s love saw the two together. Out of despair and grief she took her own life.

When the God of Life found out what happened to his beloved daughter he summoned Belle before him. He looked into her heart and discovered what she had done. Out of pure rage he set her aflame and killed her.

Ortho was released from his trance and realized what has happened. He begged to his mother, Darkness, to put him in the sky so he could be next to Celine forever. Although is caused the goddess great pain, she granted her only son’s request.

From then on, the gods vowed to never interfere in the affairs of their children ever again.

***

The kingdoms were divided into three major parts.

The Kingdom of Terebris was where all the scholars and inventors were from. Their trade consisted of blueprints of the inventions and the inventions themselves. They also had the top universities in all the realm.

The king and queen were proper and well respected. They preferred to negotiate treaties than go into war. Where in negotiation they can outsmart the opponent where in open battle they did not feel as confident.

The royal family were King Ramon and Queen Analise with their daughter Princess Marceline. Their sigil was a woman carrying the moon in her palms.

The Kingdom of Lux was filled with never ending adventure and ambition. They had the best warriors in the world. They led voyages across unknown seas, ventured into dangerous lands no one dared to enter, and they found any reason to host a tournament.

It’s so they can show off their strengths and skills. Going into open battle with them meant immediate defeat for they would never give up. They would always find a way to win.

The royal family was Queen Tatianna and her two children, Prince Markoz II and Princess Adamarie. Their sigil was the sun in the middle of children playing.

The Kingdom of Ignis birthed artist ranging from music, to theater, to art, to literature. The passion to entertain flows through the city as blood flows through the body. Nobles from all around came to witness the beauty surrounding the kingdom. Festivals happened every so often it was a never ending carnival.

Their trade consisted of selling their art whether it would be paintings or the entertainment of theater. Paintings from the kingdom even decorated the castles of the other two kingdoms.

The royal family were King Ricardo and Queen Isabella with their twin sons Prince Mundo and Prince Alfredo. Their sigil was a man emerging from the flames.

The kingdoms recognized each other and the importance they held. They treated each other with respect and honor. They knew if it was any different it would anger the gods. They married within their kingdoms so they could keep the bloodline within the gods. They ruled side by side peacefully.

1.

The kingdom of Lux was hosting a tournament for the 18th birthday and coronation of Prince Markoz II.

Being a royal’s festivity the other two major royal families were invited as honored guest. The families rarely ever met and if they did it was only the kings and queens.

The family Terebris entered with such grace and prestige. They wore their colors of dark blue and silver. The queen’s dress was flowy and soft with little diamonds embroidered in the silver veils, her crown was all around silver with one navy blue diamond in the center. The king wore mostly dark blue but it had random designs of silver down his cape, his crown was the opposite of the queens, it had dark blue sapphires and a diamond in the middle. The princess wore a simple silver dress with small dark blue designs and her tiara was simple.

Princess Marceline was clearly bothered as they were being escorted into the throne room.

“What is the matter my sweet one?” Asked the queen as she took notice of her daughter’s mood.

“I don’t understand why I have to attend such a barbaric event where men purposely get injured for entertainment. I don’t even know the prince, so why should I have to attend? I could be reading or studying with the masters of science or learning new techniques with the healers, not here wasting my time.” Argued Marceline in a hushed tone.

“One day you will be queen and have to attend events such as these to show respect for the hosting family. Also you must remember you will be alongside this prince and whichever one of the twins the Ignis family chooses it would be wise to not offend either one of them. Not attending especially when invited as honored guest would be a great insult. We are only here until after his coronation, it would be no more than a week, I promise. “

Marceline has heard the prince was a serious man. Rumor has it he never smiled, but in a way she understood. Losing his father the way he did would turn any heart cold.

The Terebris family entered the throne room to be welcomed properly. Marceline was captivated.

Pillars that could have been a hundred feet tall were lined with gold. The windows were stretched from floor to ceiling so the sunlight poured into the room reflecting of the gold treasures and décor. Everything sparkled. The one of the treasures on the wall were dragon skulls engraved with golden patterns.

Legend has it each kingdom had their own dragon but when the kingdoms were on the brink of war the gods intervened. The gods knew if the kingdoms went into war with the dragons the world would be left in ruins. So the gods vanquished all the dragons.

The legends and folktales always fascinated Marceline. The princess took notice of the throne itself and she felt her mouth open in awe. The white marble was artistically decorated with golden vines. On top of the throne the white marble stopped and a golden sun started. Within the sun cravings of flowers and leaves, the flowers started in the center and stretched out into each sun ray.

Seated on the throne was Queen Tatianna, to her right was Prince Markoz II in his golden armor with the family sigil on his chest, and to the queen’s left was Princess Adamarie smiling polity. Others had said the Lux family had a beauty that radiated beyond words. Marceline was not impressed for she believed true beauty was in intelligence not physical appearance.

“Welcome to my home!” Queen Tatianna spoke with such excitement and happiness. King Ramon and Queen Analise stepped forward and greeted Queen Tatianna.

“Beautiful as always, I am not entirely sure you have met our daughter Princess Marceline. “ King Ramon said while giving Marceline a gentle push towards the queen.

“No I have not had the pleasure, but your parents speak so often of you. I feel like I know everything about you.” The queen let out a gentle laugh.

Marceline bowed to show her respects.

“The pleasure is all mine your grace.”

“Oh what a sweet polite girl but no need for formalities here. Be as comfortable as you desire. Adamarie may you please show Marceline the gardens”

“Oh yes mother!” Adamarie skipped towards Marceline and dragged her away.

Throughout the whole encounter the prince’s gaze never faulted from Marceline. His emerald colored eyes gave her the chills but were calming at the same time. Marceline was so deep in thought she was not noticing where the princess was taking her.

“Um, princess, where are you taking me?”

“To a secret part of the garden” She whispered.

“May I ask why?”

“I will explain once we get there.”

Adamarie hauled Marceline through twist and turns, through bushes and trees. Finally they arrived at a small door between two hedges. Adamarie looked around to make sure no one was around and rushed through the door.

“Come quickly before someone sees!” rushed Adamarie.

Marceline entered this secret place. It was a good size space, it have a brick flooring in a round shape. It had a table with some books and a pillowed bench. It seemed rather peaceful with the soft lighting of the sky. It was far enough you could barely hear the tournament.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re here now?” Marceline was now frustrated but more at the fact that she did not know what was going on or what to expect.

“First you must swear on the honor of your family and your goddess that you will never tell a soul.” Adamarie said with a desperation.

“I swear.” Marceline was even more skeptical than before.

Adamarie turned away from Marceline.

“I’m going to take my brother’s place in the tournament. He believes that tournaments are meaningless and a waste of money but I just think he is a horrid fighter. So, every tournament we meet here to exchange, I get his armor while he waits here until the fighting is over.” Adamarie was talking really fast and very nervous. She did not know how Marceline would react but how would she explain the situation better than just telling her the truth.

Marceline was shocked yet somewhat intrigued. She did not want to offend the princess so she thought about what to say next very carefully.

“I do not expect you to understand. You are so proper and fragile, but just is not me. All of the princess lessons bores me. I want to travel across the sea or go on expeditions to unknown parts. I refuse to stay here and marry and have children. If I marry, I want to be because I want to, not because my mother told me to. I know my goddess made me for more than just that. The palace suffocates me, the tournaments are the only way I feel like I have a purpose. Every time I win the crowd cheers with such admiration it fills me with life.”

Adamaire finally looks at Marceline.

“My apologies princess I did not intend to speak my troubles.” Said Adamarie.

“Where did you learn how to fight?” Marceline asked innocently.

“Pardon me?” Adamarie asked shocked and confused.

“Where did you learn how to fight?”

“I would watch my brother as he trained and I went into the woods to train at night.”

“Impressive”

It was at that moment that the princess created a bond. A bond of mutual respect and friendship.

***

“Oh dear sister look how well they are getting along!” The goddess of light with excitement as both goddess watched over the princess. As the goddess’s excitement grew the brighter she glowed.

“Yes my darling sister it seems that they have grown fairly fond of each other.” The goddess of darkness spoke with a small smile.

***

Not only did Marceline did not know what to say when the prince arrived but she could not stop her gaze from wandering around. The garden was beautiful with various flowers of vibrant colors, but she was also avoiding the gaze of the Prince Markoz. He seemed so serious and stern it made her uncomfortable. Marceline was seated at the small table with books. The prince was seated on the other side on the pillowed bench.

“Are you enjoying the tournament princess?” asked the prince.

“Yes your grace-“

“Not your grace, I am still a prince until the coronation in a few days.”

“Yes I suppose so your majesty. Are you excited for your coronation my Prince?”

“I have been assisting my mother in making decisions for the kingdom since my father passed. The only difference the coronation will make is my mother will be helping me. To answer your question princess, no, the coronation does not excite me.” The prince spoke with aggravation.

“Were you always so serious and rude or was it only after your father passed?” Marceline was irritated by the prince’s ill manners. Markoz seemed shocked and insulted.

“My apologies my prince I did not mean to offend. I must leave you my parents must be concerned about me.” Marceline stood up making her way to the door. The prince stood up faster and cornered Marceline against two bushes. Even if he appeared rigid, his eyes were a soft gold and his long lashes softly brushed them. Marceline’s heart was beating so rapidly she thought she would fall ill at any moment.

“You should look someone in the eyes when you speak to them. You have very beautiful eyes Princess Marceline of Terebris.”

He stood in front of her for a moment longer then he turned around walking deeper into the gardens.

Other works by Ivetth Santibanez:

Midnight

All content is published exactly as it is sent by the author in order to preserve the integrity of the work.

Untitled was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

It’s a layer of defense

Soft and Smooth

It crackles , it can breaks if you have a wound.

Hairs stand up when you have chills

Pierces red when you have a sunburn , or when you get mad.

It’s a blank canvas to your pen

It’s an external organ , it’s the glue to your body

You should be comfortable in your own skin

Nobody has the right to take that away from you

All content is published exactly as it is sent by the author in order to preserve the integrity of the work.

Untitled was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Anjali Chandrashekar is a New York- based designer and artivist. As a graduate from the Pratt Institute, Brooklyn with a Bachelors in Industrial Design she is passionate about the intersection of design, tech and social innovation.

Growing up in India honed her creativity and empathy and developed a passion for problem solving. In an age of increasing technology, she hopes to exploit her optimism and harness her potential as a designer to humanize these experiences one product at a time.

Anjali is also the Founder of PICTURE IT. A global social project that uses art to raise funds and awareness for various health, humanitarian and environmental causes. As an artist she believes in the power to initiate, influence and create change and this has also led her to speak about it while being chosen as the youngest participant at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland.

To our launch our new interview series, we spoke to Anjali about her creative process, her journey as an artist, and the role of art within social impact.

When did you first begin to sense the intersection between art and social change?

I think there are several ways to make a difference. I was lucky enough to find a passion and subsequently realize that I could use it to voice issues that were much bigger than me.

I have been painting since the age of 4. My grandmother ran a trust for children with multiple disabilities in Bangalore, India and growing up with them from a very young age made me realize how lucky I was to be what people would call ‘normal’. When I started getting really into art, I realized that I had this really powerful platform where I could talk about issues that I held close to my heart. That’s when it all began.

At the age of 10, I founded Picture It, a global social project that uses art to raise funds and awareness for various health, humanitarian and environmental causes for many national and international organizations which include several campaigns affiliated with the UN. My works have been published by the UNEP, UNESCO, FAO and more. Picture It has raised thousands of dollars to buy insulin for children in developing countries and also funded dialysis for poor patients at the Kidney Research Foundation in my hometown of Chennai, India.

Your work was recently featured by the UN, could you tell us more about the pieces that were selected and the inspiration behind them?

In 2010, world military expenditures exceeded some $1.5 trillion. The need for a culture of peace and for significant arms reduction worldwide has never been greater. And this applies to all classes of weapons. While nuclear disarmament has been a tremendously difficult challenge, I think campaigns like these help lobby and bring us one step closer towards spreading a message that peace is possible, if we all work together towards it.

“I believe that art has the power to humanize some of the most pressing issues that the world faces today”

I believe that peace and security can be strengthened through nuclear disarmament although it is a long term ambition that requires patience and persistence.

The inspiration: The two posters use very simple imagery and symbolism of nuclear weapons and peace and juxtapose them to create a contrast that plainly calls out for nuclear disarmament. Nuclear disarmament is usually spoken about on such a high level and I believe that art has the power to humanize some of the most pressing issues that the world faces today and so I thought this was a great opportunity for me to show that a brush can be mightier than arms.

How can youth use their art for empowerment?

Art is subjective, but the good thing about it is that art and creative expression don’t have boundaries. This encompasses music, dance, theatre and every combination thereof. So I think there are several ways to bring about change and the best part is to personalize it and make the journey your own. Youth can use it to raise awareness and funds through different initiatives.

I’m most passionate about work that provokes thought and dialogue, and evokes emotions through memorable interactions.

What are some challenges that you’ve faced as an artist and activist?

“I think it’s important to not let what people say break you. ”

I think the biggest challenge for me was to be taken seriously as a young Indian female artist/activist.

That slowly but surely changed once more of my work started getting recognized internationally.

I think it’s important to not let what people say break you. Constructive criticism is always good but you also need to believe in yourself and your art and draw inspiration and strength from it.

How have your experiences influenced your artwork?

My experiences have moved me profoundly. People that I meet everyday are really inspiring in their own ways and I use their stories and struggles to motivate me to work harder to spread messages of importance.

Can you describe the creative process involved in creating art for social change campaigns?

Most of the campaigns I work on are specific to causes and organizations and so I make sure they are deeply rooted in understanding. This is usually derived from research or talking to people who work in the field.

“I am obsessed with color and believe that it has a huge impact on the way we see and consume imagery.”

I also think about universal visuals and symbolism that art can take advantage of. I’m a huge minimalist when it comes to my style and echo the less is more ideology.

I think more of my work is evolving into that lately. I am obsessed with color and believe that it has a huge impact on the way we see and consume imagery. I end up sketching very intuitively and make several iterations before I feel confident that it is spreading the right message.

If you could give one piece of advice to someone struggling to express themselves, what would it be?

To really just not be afraid to try. It might take a while to get it right, but it’s how we find ourselves in the process that makes all the difference.

In a time when there is so much information out there and so many tools to teach you skills, real intent is something you should be able to take time to figure out.

There is no one or right font for creativity.

To follow Anjali’s work, visit anjalic.com or find her on Twitter and Facebook.

Interview by Ahmed Badr, all photos courtesy of Anjali Chandrashekar.

Chapter 1: Anjali Chandrashekar was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Julissa is 15 and is a freshman at J. Frank Dobie high school in Houston, Texas. She hopes to one day become a fantastic artist, and is especially interested in becoming a comic book artist.

“Art helped me overcome depression and anxiety. My friends and family have helped me so much and they inspire me to continue my art. “

Julissa’s Collection

Julissa’s Collection, Part II

Julissa’s Collection, Part III was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

She’s just a girl who writes to figure out the role she must play in this world.

A poem is the solace you didn’t find in things that are tangible. It’s a chip on your shoulder that needs to trickle down word by word, phrase by phrase, until the care has turned to dust, eroded and carefree with the wind.

A poem is a catch in the throat, the heavy feeling you can’t say out loud because you are scared of its enormity, you choose to verbalize it with sighs. It’s a pointless debate — the poet argues with himself on paper, never really outwitting anyone, and so the pen wins.

A poem is a secret blatantly declared, loudly proclaimed, butchered and served up to anyone who wishes to read. It’s the wistful nostalgia, the soundless cry of pain, the celebration that spreads out into tremors, strong enough to make the hands shake and the heart to split into two.

A poem is a longing, a wish, a heartache you wish to send out to the world. It’s a single strand of hope that someday, the words will reach the right set of eyes, the right pair of ears, the right heartbeat who will respond with its own resonance that will match yours.

A poem is its person, gently offered with frail and bruised hands. The hands never know who will take it. The hands will never know if its offering will suffice and yet, the hands offer everything without hesitation — with a stubborn disregard for whether it is careful or safe.

A poem could be you or me. It could be us. It could be the way you suckle for air when you feel like drowning in despair. It could be the constricting of your heart, that gentle sting that’s reminding you how happy you are. It could be the way we feel when we look at each other’s eyes. It could be the silent gasp I made or the surprised pause it took you seconds to recover from when you finally said the words out loud. It could be the goodbye we don’t want to hear. It could be our story. It could be the rest of our lives.

And the poetry will be endless. I’d finish a word and someone will write the next. The poem will never end. It will be the same, for it is always the same. Just spoken in different languages, kissed by several lips, written by a million hands, living and dying and being born again, through words.

View more works by Nessie here on Narratio:

I Didn’t Know This Was How Poets Were Born

Dear Lovely

The Dead Don’t Care

All content is published exactly as it is sent by the author in order to preserve the integrity of the work.

My Poetry Never Ends was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I’m able to look at the world with clear hindsight, 20, 20 vision, able to dissect and understand. Yet whenever I tried to look within, it was almost through a rose-coloured glass, stained by my emotions. So I shut my eyes.

We call ignorance a lack of understanding of our objective world, our history, our galaxies, our tragedies. I don’t think people accept the fact that life doesn’t make sense. I think it makes them terribly uncomfortable. So we seek knowledge for knowledge is power and we’re able to temporarily make sense of that which we’ll never fully understand. And we live with it and the world is seemingly at our feet.

I agree that knowledge is power and a lack of understanding of my world, my external world, is an unintentional show of ignorance. But I think it’s a greater misfortune that we reject any desire to understand ourselves. To me, this reveals more ignorance. It is my theory that people are afraid of themselves, of their own mind, their feelings most of all. Why is it we are not all successful? Surely, we all have goals, even if they’re of varying nature. It’s because success is an attitude. Ambition and motivation are attitudes. And what I think many people fail to realise, is that in life, your brain is your most powerful weapon in your arsenal. I don’t believe we are ‘fixed’, ‘unchangeable’ creatures, and neither does science. I don’t believe in ‘superior’ healthy brains. People are as real as one another, minds are alive as one another and they have equal value. The difference then, is that a ‘successful’ mind harnesses its brains powers to adapt. Change your brain, change your life. Our brains are plastic, neuroplasticity by definition, tells us this much. I am plastic. I am not soft clay and I refuse to be Moulded. Change your brain, change your life. Re-imagine change and never stop evolving. Every thought you produce, every action you commit bears your signature and creates a mark on your brain, leaving a ripple effect. There’s a reason action becomes habit. The more you commit to a behaviour, the stronger the synaptic connections between neurons in your brain devoted to this action become. Within time, the neurons in the circuit will proliferate their dendrites and extend their axons, interconnecting more distant neurons into a rich neural network. What you think is how you act. What you think is what you become. We can use our brains to re-wire our thinking and from there, the possibilities are endless. Take advantage of not only the world around you but your world within.

All content is published exactly as it is sent by the author in order to preserve the integrity of the work.

Successful Thinking was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I shed my skin, callous as it is, hardened by time, and by solitude. I wore it like a badge for so long, thinking it was an exoskeleton that help my soupy insides — that without it, I would be no more than a puddle on the ground.

To truly give my full, whole self to others, to be at the mercy of the world and vice versa I need no armour; to let the light, dark and every infinity of the spectrum of me flood where I am. Not liquid, not solid, our inside is gas. With no barriers it fills the space that surrounds it, mixes and reacts to create products that are greater than the sum of its parts. I’m not afraid of the arrows I thought to be flying, they pass right through, if they are even there at all. Dipped with poison that emulsifies, they hit and slow only those who wear their armour — firing arrows unwittingly as they do unto others as it is perceived to be done unto them.

I cast no stone, I am not without sin or fault. I am sin, I am fault, I am so much more; no arrows shall touch me as I float through — around those who hold up their shields up high, crouched against the buffeting arrows created by those they hit. Every judgement, every entitled word borne of discounted luck hardens my skin to armour that plugs the gas of our love. Day by day I shed my skin, not worried if it grows, for there is always tomorrow — another day to count my luck, to help others, to be kind and thankful.

All content is published exactly as it is sent by the author in order to preserve the integrity of the work.

Armour was originally published in Narratio on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.