Behind the Brush

BCA Litmag

March 2013

Behind the brush myfears are hidden by singing.

My voice - full of doubt.

--Alexander Catoya

AcknowledgementsBergen County Technical Schools Board of

EducationJason Kim, President

William J. Meisner, Vice PresidentTodd C. Flora, Interim Executive County Superintendent

Raymond HryczykMarie E. LaTesta

Bergen County Technical Schools Administration

Dr. Howard Lerner, SuperintendentJohn Susino, Business Administrator/Board Secretary

Andrea Sheridan, Assistant SuperintendentRichard Panicucci, Assistant Superintendent for

Curriculum and Instruction

Bergen County ExecutiveKathleen A. Donovan

Board of Chosen FreeholdersDavid L. Ganz, Chairman

Joan M. Voss, Vice ChairwomanJohn A. Felice, Chair Pro Tempore

Maura DeNicolaJohn D. MitchellTracy Silna ZurSteve Tanelli

Campus AdministrationRussell Davis, Principal

Dr. Raymond Bath, Vice PrincipalDr. David Niedosik, Dean of Academics

This issue, entitled “Behind the Brush,” is BCA Litmag’s first Visual Arts themed issue. In

holding a Visual Arts competition, we were able to experience firsthand the great artistic talent that is flourishing in our BCA community.

Our winning submissions are presented on the following pages, along with some of their

worthy competitors.

To coincide with this theme, all of the poems featured in this issue are entitled “Behind the Brush,” a concept that the writers took in any

direction they wished.

8

And the winners are...

Grand Prize:

Michelle Guo

Honorable Mentions:

Jenna Guma

Rebecca Kim

Michelle Guo“Ladies’ Night Out”Mixed Media

10

Photography by Jenna Guma

12

Paper Artwork byRebecca Kim

Cardboard paper and origami paper

14

Alexander Catoya

Behind each brushand all its bristles,a handle.

Anchored,all it can dorelies on its rock.

Infixed, the motion of the handleguides the bristles.

Without a handbehind the brush,It is useless.

David Heller

The lynx need not scavenge, for he is feared.What lies ahead is a life worth living.His ears - the slightest crunch of leaf cannot avoid.His eyes - no minute thing unabsorbed.The legs - they carry his light heart with ease, beyond the brush that conceals the other side.

The hare’s eyes twinkle in the starlight. Such an innocent heart, brain, sinew.Beyond that, a fire.Ignited deep within this ticking soul.He knows what lies beyond.Beyond the brush that conceals the other side.

The lynx straddles the brush between the two,concealed by mastery of disguise.His leap of faith, a short pounce’s worth.And cold blood flows.

The hare’s twinkling eyes illuminate the chilled heart upon the ground.The fire deep within continues to burn.

16

Photography byJohn Macejka

18

Painting byRebecca Kim

20

Mika Thomas

carbon brush: [ bruhsh] noun. A rod made of carbon that bears against a commutator, collector ring, or slip ring to provide passage for the electric current from a dynamo through an outside circuit or for an external current through a motor.

-Access Science Dictionary A lightning boltwe stung my skin.After trapping nature with a rusted wrenchWe snipped the tails of firefliesAnd sent them off to industrialism.Forced electric pulse through heart made of iron,Give the inanimate purpose.Clap the orange rust off our handsAnd fix my plated darling again.Connect her right arm to left so she can hold me.Join her two eyes so they can both look into mine.Please don’t leave her here in partsUpon the floor with iron shavingsAnd puddles of improperly secured lubricants.Because in this world of technology,Under the shaking from electric sounds,Lies the ideas left to die,When machine was never alive to begin with.We believe the only organic matter on the aged metals

was skin cells of workers who developed tetanus.But when electricity slithersfrom a laser cut mouth to pliable toes,I know that there is something here,A cylinder piece, a token of humanity you’ll wear,Bolt shut your eyes with carbon.Does that make you half organic?The stakes of carbon I drive through your heart?To edit you until 100% efficiency,I scratch my temples in frustrations and vomit the words mechanical advantage,Input, output, resister, transistor, sparks dance with smoke anyway.Smash your motor and restart again,But my deadline’s soon and there are bills to pay.So for now let the lightning bugs giggle under your lifeless armor,To your best ability, complete the task outlined for you in blue

Because while I stand here and fill the forgotten dips with solderGod has nothing to say to me

22

23

Photography byJenna Guma

24

Photography byJenna Guma

26

Victoria Mitchell

A brush: a brief encounter with someone/something unpleasant

Hello there,I remember that faceDarkened with timeIt’s done an unpleasant thingYour shining eyes have lost their shimmerBleached from the lime lightGlowing dark hair now speckled grayIts soft beauty faded by the many hands who’ve touched itThe chiseled body that used to float aboutClothed in masculinityWeakenedSlashed down by time and fate

I remember those daysThey were happyWe were happyLife was a blessingYou took my heartHeld it in your handsThen tore it in twoRipped it openBlood streamingFor all to see its delicate centerPumping air to no availGasping for life

Now those hands are cracked, run desert dry

Remembering that pastI look at you nowDead in a living bodyYou got what was comingA perpetual heartbreakerYour smile is a lieI must be going nowMust again brush you offIt’s sad to leave you like thisWhen I know your past held more promise than your future

28

Talia Green

Who will perceive my sins, enough to be for-given?For what I do not do,For all I do not see,For none I all but feel;This throbbing only numbed by burning liquor or bottle of aspirinOnly adhered to when manifested by the hand,For reasons unburdened to a world that would not understand.For what do they see behind the hairs of the brush?A quiet, gentle cringe of the wristAs she is morphed into iridescent beautyAs her invisible outlines unveil to all but the blindAnd the ignorantAnd the enemyAnd yet the friendAnd yet the painterFor what lies without dimension behind that brush,A blank nothingness on which on the paint is swept,On which a world is builtBrick by brickWith each drop of bright oil.And yet, hidden underneath the artist’s master-piece,

Dwelling somewhere between the thread of the canvas and teal of the paintIs where passion true lies.For, the only anguish crueler than invisibilityIs being seen as all you are not.And hanging upon a wall with chipping paintAnd scrutinized by every passing eyeEvoking reactions only your flesh’s flesh feelsFor they always paint what is shown by the faceAnd yet they never paint what lies behind it.

30

Photography byYuta Takano

Pictured: violist Sarah Haines and cellist Autumn Martin

32

Seth Goldstein“Horses Playing Poker”

Photography

34

Michelle Guo“Woodpecker”

Graphite and Ink

David Heller

“A Brushing Up Speaks One Thousand Words”

Brush Up on your lifeYour failures could not care less-

For redemption thrives.

Lori Semerciyan“A Night in the City”

Photography

36

Photography byEdith Henderson

Self-developed analog photo

38

BCA Litmag would like to extend the sincerest of “Thank yous” to Ms. Villanova and Ms. DiAmico-King for their support and guidance in the

creation of this issue.

40