Family

The screams wouldn't stop. I hoped it was Kayla, she'd gone missing out of nowhere. I slowly approached the small house and pushed the door opened. Right when the door opened it smelled worse than any thing I have ever smelled in my life. It was too dark to see, so I turned my phone's flashlight on. I instantly regretted it. There were bodies, and body parts spread around the home. I felt so light headed, confused by what I was seeing. I couldn't wrap around my head around the fact that this is what had been happening, less than a mile from my house. I guess that's one of the perks of living in the country, your next door neighbors aren't really you next door neighbors. They're close enough to kind of see, but far enough that they can't bother you. 

I head the screams again, it sounded more and more like Kayla. It had to be coming from the basement, that's where all the cliche murders happen right? I wanted to turn around and search somewhere else, but I couldn't risk it actually being her. So I slowly walked down towards the basement, flashlight on, heart pumping so fast I could barely breath. I kept my head on a swivel watching for anyone, or anything, that wanted to try to get the jump on me. Only place that I failed to keep an eye on was behind me. I was pushed down the old wooden stairs. I tried to look at who pushed me, but I couldn't focus my eye sight. All I could see was a figure standing above me. Everything was coming into focus. It was my older brother Michael.

To be continued. . .

2000's Photo

Klev's Independence Square Before and After the Revolution (2014)

This picture really jumped out and grabbed at me. One reason is just because that beautiful place has turned to a wasteland that looks like it straight out of a video game. I'm trying to put myself in their shoes, how scared innocent bystanders were, or how serious the Ukrainian revolutionaries were about removing their president. 

This also makes me think of America. Obviously not us currently, but what we could become. I'm very concerned with the future of this nation. My foster dad, who was in the armed forces, and I have many conversations about Americas current state and what the future may hold. We don't always agree, but one thing we have agreed on is the fact that there is a large chance that there will be World War III. I didn't believe him for at first, but once he told me his reasons, I fell in to his conspiracy. America, Russia, and China all wanting power, America not being, or at least coming off as, tough as we used to be. Everything was adding up. Not to mention our "presidential candidates" who we both think are unfit to become president. 

All in all, this photo for me is a reminder. A reminder that tells me loud and clearly that not everything stays the same. Bad times come, and they do not give a warning. 

Juliette's Story

Juliette Maya Crow born July 8th, 1957 in Jacksonville, Mississippi. She works at Dave's Country Mart as a store clerk in the mornings, but in the evenings she's at home, sewing together clothes. All she's wanted to do is become a successful fashion designer. Her husband Mr. Jim Crow, disagreed. He felt that she should stay at home, and take care of little Elliot. Their year old baby. At this point in time, being a woman wasn't easy as it is today. That couldn't stop Juliette, she continued chasing her dreams. No matter how many times she was rejected, she just kept trying she was not giving up.

Jim grew tired of not having a stay home wife and divorced Juliette and left her with the baby. She couldn't understand how that got him any closer to a stay home wife, but she still pushed on. When she went for an interview, Elliot came too. Where ever she went, Elliot was right by her side. She called him her "guardian angel." Soon enough, Juliette became very successful, with her baby clothing line.

"Inspired By Hopper"

There he was, Alfonso Colombo. The head of the Colombo Mafia, known for helping support local businesses, and less known for their drug smuggling, and hunting down local business owners when it's time to pay up. I ain't ever had a problem with the Colombo Mafia until they double crossed me and tried to take me out the cut. See the Colombo Mafia used to split the city with the Madaki Mob, my family. I guess those Italian pricks got a little greedy. Now after all the hunting I did, I find Alfonso Colombo in a diner. A diner out of all places. It didn't make any difference to me. If he was here, there, anywhere, I'd find him and I'd kill him for what he'd done. This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I was done searching, done hunting. This was the man who'd hired goons to have me killed.

"How's the coffee Alfonso?" He turned and when we met eyes, his almost bulged out his head. He tried to get up and run but he was getting to old to be able to escape from me. I slammed hit to the ground with just enough force to subdue him but not to knock him out. I needed answers.

"Why the hell did you set me up!? We were supposed to own this city, together!" I yelled at him

"You really thought I'd share the city with likes of some nigger! This was never a plan to split it with you. Having you with us made taking over the city much easier."

Thinking about it, I should've seen this coming. My uncle always told me that in times like this there are no friends. Only associates. Also, that I should never let my guard down. I didn't listen. After my uncle was murdered, the Colombo Mafia said they wanted us to rule the city with them. To stop all the senseless killing. At the time it sounded so right, so real. Look where that got me. I became enraged.

"You mean to tell me all this, all the killing I had to do to get this city was for nothing?" I said.

"That's exactly what I mean boy. What are you gonna do kill me here? Everyone's gonna know it was you, and they'll hunt you and your loved ones down."

What he didn't understand was that he killed the ones I loved.

"That is what I'm going to do. And when they come looking for me. I wont run. I'm gonna kill them to, boy." With a single shot, I ended Alfonso Colombo's life. This isn't the end, I know that. I'm gonna have to fight. Fight to get my city back. And I'll do it, no matter how long it takes.

Art/Therapy

I can say without a doubt that art is a type of therapy. I personally use it as a therapeutic escape whenever I'm upset or down, arts always calming. Art has always been a part of my life. Growing up in a very musically and artistically talented family, everyone had to have some type of talent. So instead of an instrument, I picked up a pencil and started drawing. I like more graffiti type art, or even anime/manga. I also like photography. I wan't to pursue a career in some art field, mostly photography and travel the world for inspiration. I'd want to be a photographer because I feel that pictures say a lot about people. Sometimes more than anything a person could say about someone, or even their self. Even the way the picture is taken could tell you something about the photographer. Pictures really are worth 1000 words.

Artist Profile: Henry Tanner

Tanner was born June 21, 1859 in Pittsburgh, PA. Son of Benjamin Tucker Tanner who was a bishop, and Sarah Turner. Brother to Halle Tanner Dillon Johnson. He loved art since he was 13 and would draw and paint as much as he could. His father was not as enthusiastic as he was, he objected to it. That didn't stop Tanner, he ended up attending PA of the Fine Arts. Tanner became successful in the art world becoming critically admired by the mid 1890's, with "The Banjo Lesson" as one of his most famous paintings. In 1890
Tanner married Jessie Macauley Olssen, a white American singer and continued with his art. Tanner used mostly oil paint for his paintings and was associated with the realism and Harlem Renaissance movements. Tanner was found dead May 25th, 1937 in his home in Paris.

Artist Inspired Poem

Mama says it's good that I learn to play the banjo
She said most colored boys don't get the chance
And that I should be thankful
I didn't like it at first
It was hard and I couldn't get the hang of it
Mama wouldn't let me quit
So I didn't
That's why I am who I am
The Banjo Player

We thankful poor

O we thankful poor

We don't have much

We have all we need

Seconds are a blessing

The don't come often

When they do it's a feast

How thankful we are

We thankful poor

O we thankful poor

6 Word Memoir

"Kanye's ego cant touch my ego."