The Sea That Swallowed Her Up

The Sea That Swallowed Her Up

Her entire room should have been a sign.


Everything was moving slowly. Her vision seemed to be unstable because of the constant squinting she was doing. The room started to feel smaller than before. She seemed like she wanted to move, but her feet almost appeared to be glued to the floor. This has happened multiple times before, but Camila never really liked to talk about it with us. But she always mentioned that she thought it was the medication for the reason why she was acting this way. Having Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder was definitely difficult for her since she had to take her medication every day. The strange thing is that she forgot to take her medication that day.

Her face quickly changed once I said what I said. Pacing back and forth, it was almost as if she was trying to make herself believe that this wasn't really happening. "You're pathetic," I said to my beloved friend. The volume of my voice rose, and her body reacted immediately. Her knuckles began to turn white by how hard she was holding her chest. Camila just stared at me, eyes filled with remorse and sorrow. She seemed so hesitant to say anything. Her mouth kept opening, but nothing came out. I looked at her, feeling no remorse for what I had said earlier.

Her eyes kept wandering elsewhere; she couldn't focus on anything except the light. I stood up and walked to the door, hoping that she would say anything. But there she was with her hands shaking and body quivering. As I left that room, I wanted to look back again. But my ego made me leave her alone. I left her drowning.

Camila never faced her issues head-on. She'd pretend nothing bothered her, even when that something kept appearing in her thoughts. But that's just how she was, I guess. Well, the way she actually behaved, and that was the one she kept to herself. The persona she showed outside of her room was adored by everyone in her town. She was their light in the darkness, always motivating everyone to do their best no matter what the outcome was.

The vibrant colors of her aura were gleaming through, and it was truly fascinating to see. That's why when the news came out that she took all of her medication pills, everyone seemed to be so shocked. No one expected it to be her, even when she had everything. I think about her room and the yellow paint that was on her walls. Her room as a complete demonstration of what she was. I began to wonder when that yellow began to get so dull and lifeless. What happened to its beauty? Did I do this? Why did no one ever notice? The holes on her walls that weren't there should have been a sign. The dried-up water on her pillows should have been a sign. Her entire room should have been a sign. She was the sun but slowly turned into the sadness of the sea.

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A Revival: Greek And Roman Impact On The Renaissance

How Renaissance artists departed from the Gothic style

Just as the Romans were often known as Greek imitators, the artists of the Renaissance took a big interest in ancient Greek and Roman art. Therefore, the Renaissance came to be known as an era of revival, one in which the influence of Greek and Roman art was seen in both art and architecture. Pieces such as the Palazzo Rucellai, David, and Birth of Venus are all noted for being composed of both Greek and Roman elements and styles.

The Palazzo Rucellai stands as a landmark Renaissance palace, designed in 1446 by well-known Italian architects Leon Battista Alberti and Bernardo Rossellino. The humanistic influence of the 15th century is noted in its composition, but most importantly, the structural elements of ancient Rome are incorporated within the structure. The Roman-like arches, pilasters, and entablatures give the impression of strength. The pilasters are composed of Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian orders which are reminiscent of the Colosseum. Just as the pilasters of the Colosseum are used for a decorative purpose, the ones of the Palazzo Rucellai also depart from simply providing structural support.

The David sculpture was created by the notorious Donatello. Donatello was known for his studies of Greek and Roman art, which allowed for him to make a connection between the classical world and the Renaissance. The Greek formula for contrapposto is noted in this sculpture, as his weight appears to be mostly on the right foot while the left leg seems to be more relaxed. The Greek influence is also demonstrated as David is fully nude, which departs from the clothed Biblical figures of the Gothic era and instead resonates Greek conventions. Just as the Greek Kritios Boy is described as “the first beautiful nude in art,” the bronze David was the first freestanding nude of the Renaissance.

The Birth of Venus, created by Sandro Botticelli, also appears to carry Greek and Roman influences into the Renaissance era in which it was constructed. Just like the Roman marble Aphrodite of Menophantos, the Birth of Venus employs the Capitoline Venus pose in which Venus covers her breasts with her right arm and her groin with her left arm. An obvious allusion to Roman art is the use of the Roman goddess Venus as the subject of the painting. The use of classical subject matter is strategical as it appeals to the rich Florentines who patronized such pieces.

The Renaissance is known as the “rebirth” or “revival” of Greek and Roman styles and conventions. Such Greek and Roman influences are well noted in the Italian-made pieces such as The Palazzo Rucellai, which can be compared to the Colosseum, David, which can be compared to the Kritios Boy, and The Birth of Venus, which can be compared to the Aphrodite of Menophantos. It is this revival that is credited with helping European artists and architects depart from Gothic styles, among others, while bringing back notorious Greek and Roman ones.

Cover Image Credit: Artble

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When A River Loves A Tree

A short story about a tumultuous relationship between a river and a tree inspired by a toxic relationship that I was in.


The River loved the tree. The big Tree with fuzzy caterpillar leaves right at the river's star-crossed bank. The Tree surrounded by water lilies and ferns, like a gaggle of admirers. The River and the Tree were close. The River fed the tree with its crystalline-sweet waters, letting the roots swell to the size of a swollen puffy lip. The Tree would caress the river's surface with his long, leafy, velvet fingers in appreciation, sending the river into a flurry of babbling and heart-wrenching swirls. Tree was tall and broad, sun-baked to perfection.

River looked up to the tree, both in the literal sense and in the sense that River felt inferior. Being a part of the ground, unable to see beyond, is enough to make anyone disappear inside themselves. River was lost in the shadows of Tree, shadows that were deep-seated and chilled River to the bone.

Tree was perfect in River's wet, blue eyes. Except for one itty bitty and yet profoundly crucial-as-breathing thing: Tree was a user. Tree knew what River felt. He exploited that feeling without remorse. He took and took and took and took and took. Draining the very life from the River. Typically River was glad to do it, glad to give Tree every single itty-bitty thing. It was true, after all, that Tree could not give back the same way he took, and he did bring critters and flitters to fish from River in the sunny springtime and sweet summertime.

But lately, Tree had been ignoring River more and more and more and more. The River became grumbly and churning, glaring up at the Tree with glinting pebble-eyes. Tree was too busy lifting his broccoli head to the sun to notice the storm that was broiling beneath him. The churning became too much, boiling River from the inside out, swelling her banks until Tree was engulfed. Tree floundered and tried to escape, but River's fury was too fiery and impossible to escape. Soon, Tree was swept away, rustling the caterpillar leaves like mad to be rescued. River didn't stop until Tree disappeared under the roiling depths. And she was calm and felt the life flowing into her again. Her life is her own again.

Days and days go by, and River begins to feel an ache. She misses Tree, even with his using and abusing. She didn't realize how much she needed him, to feel worth something. But that's wrong, isn't it? What else can you feel when you're used to being in someone's deep bone-chilling shadow? River had no idea who she was without Tree. She had killed him. How could she? He was all she had. River grew depressed, and her lively water turned sluggish and shallow. Her anguish was felt by the water lilies and ferns, the critters and flitters. She had no tears left to cry, as her water evaporated. As her last drop slides down a pebble in her bed, all she could think of was Tree, and how he could have saved.


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