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It's a Mod, Mod, Mod, Mod WorldProducers: Sidney Shuman, Shannon Minor, Amy Gatewood, Lindsey Story Photographer: Jasmine Thompson Models: Amber Channell (Modelogic Wilhelmina), Julianne Yglesias (Modelogic Wilhelmina), Sidney Allen Makeup: Melissa Jones Hair: Kasey Kohlhorst Jewelry Designer: Claire Corneal QuailBellMagazine.com #Fashion #Model #Photography #Photoshoot #BlackAndWhtite #Minimal #GeometricJewelry #ModernLook
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Florida Keys NoirThe darker side of a place drenched in sunshine—and grit, too. -CS #Photography #BlackAndWhite #FloridaKeys #Florida #FloridaKeysNoir #Noir
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Art is LifeBy John Stegner QuailBellMagazine.com Microsoft Word (ProjectPropDraft.docx) Robert Parker International Development Board 1 May 2013 Project Proposal Tutoring at the writing center and mentoring within the student peer advising forum at Duke University, although immensely rewarding, can often feel large-scale and impersonal to the point of solipsistic. It is hard to measure the benefit of involvement when students are quite literally bombarded with opportunities for assistance. This is to say that I would like to step into a more focused role, one in which my contribution can be measured and understood in an area of urgent need. With the well-organized NGO Arte Es Vida, a group founded upon the universalizing premise of art education, I would act only as a vehicle for agency and empowerment in the lives of children. As a Political Science/Public Policy Double Major with two full semesters in Spanish, I am well-prepared to constructively interact with the children while avoiding the imposition of a problematic Western agenda. This would be my first long-term abroad endeavor, and I feel an urgent need to contribute to a rapidly globalizing society. I wish only the money for the plane ticket. ** Despite everything, Robert wished Samantha could hear the accent of the mid-twenties Dutch girl sitting across from him on a splintered picnic table. He was trying to take her seriously, but it was difficult when 'the' is 'zee' and 'think' is 'zinc' and 'problem' is 'pro-bloom.' “I think the problem with Americans is that they don’t travel,” Jolien said, exhaling the smoke from a Belmont cigarette dangling between her two middle fingers. She sat with her knees to her chest, her tiny calves splayed against her thighs. Her hair had been neglected in the precise quadrants required to form dreadlocks, and she always smelled of some form of smoke. Several other volunteers at the house had told Robert that Belmont was a local Nicaraguan company, but he knew that was bullshit because the pack he’d bought at the airport had read 'un filial del British American Tobacco' in tiny print on the bottom. “It’s good your first time traveling is when you’re only 20,” she said. Jolien put out the cigarette in an ashtray made of a sawed-off quarter of a two-liter soda bottle painted with flowers and smiling stick figures, a recent class art project for Conservation Week. Emily had been sitting next to him staring into her laptop, the back of which was half-covered by a bumper sticker for a Nicaraguan rum brand. She looked up to agree. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
GeometerHandmade/bound book consisting of printmaking techniques + transfers on top of geometry tests, Japanese math homework, line charts, and graphs. Using the theme of “opposition” this book is an exploration of the comparison between geometric figures/the math we commonly use in school, and forms of sacred geometry that hold a spiritual and metaphysical connection to the universe. #Zine #Geometer #BookArts #Math #Geometry #Opposition
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The Green FairyBy Sandra Scholes QuailBellMagazine.com Sometimes truth is born of dreams and imaginings, and other times what a man says is nothing more than the mad ramblings of someone who had long since lost his mind.
There once was a sane man who rummaged through a box of his now dead friend's belongings. These were the remains of a solitary life: a writing set, tobacco pipes, and several old and tattered tomes that philosophy and religion lay at the bottom of the pile. As he delved even further, he saw an old bottle. Taking it out he glanced at it, remembering how his friend used to leave it on the mantelpiece next to his other trinkets. It looked as normal as he expected—clear though the liquid inside it was as green as emerald. He put the bottle down and reached for a tall glass. "If I can't toast to my dead friend, well, I'm not worth any of what he left me," he uttered, staring at the cork inside the bottle's neck. Latin words the man could not make out had been burned into the cork, along with the crude image of a female fairy. Shaking his head, the man tugged at the cork before wrenching it from the bottle. "Looks like you weren't supposed to come out," he murmured, tossing the cork aside, and pouring out the liquid. No sooner had he done this than sparkles of green dust arose from the bottle and swept around him. "You're right about that," said the creature before him. "I've been sealed in there for quite a while, so I thank you for releasing me at last." Before him stood a six-foot woman, as green as the liquid he had just drank, wearing nothing more than a gossamer dress. "Who he devil are you?" he said, the shock evident in his eyes. "The Absinthe Fairy." She winked as she replied, blowing more fairy dust in his eyes. |