2012 StarBursts

Special Thanks

We hope you enjoy the 2012 edition of StarBursts, Lone Star College-Kingwood’s Literary and Visual Arts publication.

We would like to say thank you to LSC-Kingwood Art Gallery director Kristine Larson and student assistants for their work with the student artists; to faculty members Cory Cryer, Mari Omori, Gerard Baldwin, Jay Calder, Kelley Eggert, Divya Murthy, Julon Pinkston, Jessica Dupuis, and John Zimmerman for their continued artistic inspiration; to Jeff Forster, guest juror for the Fall 2011 student show and to Mayuko Gray, guest juror for Spring 2012 student show; and to Diana Sorensen for photographing the artwork. Additional thanks to English Department faculty members John Dethloff, Susan Cotton, and Cindy Baker for their work with the student writers. Thanks to Designs in Print intern Andrea Frye for creating the design of this magazine as well as to Pam Clarke for overseeing the process. Thank you also to Dean Jim Stubbs for his support of this creative endeavor.

The majority of the appreciation, however, goes to the students of Lone Star College–Kingwood for sharing their distinctive spirit and vision.

Table of ContentsStudent Art Show Winners

Open Call Selections . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .6Best of Show Fall 2011 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .72D . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12–173D . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20–25Photography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28–33Honorable Mentions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36–39

Creative WritingLucid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .4San Jacinto Street . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .5Astronaut Sailor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8–10an ASPECT of my Natural Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11Didn’t You Know? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18Released . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19Beginner’s Haiku . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26Progress . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26Open Your Eyes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 The Tiniest Reminders . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34–35

Cover art by David Gill: “What do you want to do now?” paper Best of Show, Spring 2012

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San Jacinto Street Rebecca O’Bryan

On the corner of San Jacinto Street That’s where friends and strangers meet.

Prostitution and drugs at the local car wash Kenny the Barber next door on watch. The taco Nazi at the Mexican café, The Laundromat owned by the guy who’s gay.

At the snow cone stand, the kids get treats Mom’s at the washateria sweating in the heat. Railroad tracks stretching through town San Jacinto Street where the train ran the drunken man down.

Poor George stepped in front of that train Thrown into the ditch where he lay slain. Then there’s the beer and wine store Where the hood hangs out asking for more.

Darrell the homeless, Bookman the stoner Mike the toothless, J.D. the loner. Blindman the whipped drinks all day Curtis the gambler spends all his pay.

San Jacinto Street, real life is there Desperate Housewives and Survivor don’t even compare.

Lucid Roberta Avery-Hamilton

I want to sleep forever and reside in my dreams To frolic through a collage of different spectacles and scenes An escape from the insufferable, cruel world at large I want to sleep forever

I want to sleep forever so I can live in my dreams The ruler of the lands, the queen of all kings With nothing to fear but the dark side of the conscience I want to sleep forever

I want to sleep forever and fight my inner demons Provide peace of mind for all bothered and exhausted Float on utter bliss; those monsters, I’ll never miss I want to sleep forever

I want to sleep forever and never show sadness again Bright, long lasting smiles on weekly sullen days Created and maintained in a variety of ways I want to sleep forever

I want to sleep forever to erase everything I want to sleep forever and feel warmth again To bathe myself in content that won’t ever end Let me sleep forever

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Emilee RayburnUntitled, ceramics, feathers, fabric, and beads

Best of Show, Fall 2011

Open Call Selections

Rebecca O’Bryan“Goliath Garden,” watercolor and applique

T.C. Robson“Animal,” photograph

Gleann Ignacio“DEAD!” photograph

T.C. Robson“Porch,” photograph

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colors

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an ASPECT of my

Natural Being (part II) Patrick S. Miller

lugubriously lusting life as much as this lethargy will let me brilliantly bringing together the banality of broken banter

stringing superfluous ideas with strains of sporadic thought making matter from mental meltdowns

i revel in my rhetoric conscience of the contradictions

i am free to form fulfillment out of fragments a plethora of predispositions

scathing and scandalous caring and considerate

chaotic and content selfishly selfless

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Jan C. Liang“Kitchen Confidentials,” charcoal

First Place, 2D CE

Nicolas Garcia“I’m sexy and I know it,” pencil

First Place, 2D

First Place, 2DEric Lopez“Skull Still Life,” charcoal

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Reiko Minami “Breakfast at Tiffany’s, ”paper

Second Place, 2D CE

Jessica Smith“Paper Sculpture,” pencil

Second Place, 2D

Mariah Tekulve Second Place, 2D“Grey vs. Grey,” paper

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Third Place, 2D“Hope,” paper

Charlotte J. Cheng

Third Place, 2D CE“Palace Throne Room,” mixed media

Jan C. Liang

Wei Jin “Complementary color study,” paper

Third Place, 2D

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Didn’t You Know? Omar C. Guerniz

You took no heed to what I said You put the gun right to your head Your whole world became crimson-red

All of the blood that you have bled Can’t compare to the tears I’ve shed You think that you’re better off dead?

Didn’t you know? Didn’t you see? Didn’t you know That you are me?

Released Patti-Jo Neronha

Enabling you was the extent of my life, A duty I took to extremes as your wife.

Excusing and covering for what dripped from your lips, As the only one feeling the shame, I was sick.

Sick of the crap you so freely spouted, Your uneducated assumptions completely astounded.

You tried to come off as an educated scholar, Instead, it always sounded like childish fodder.

Release me you bastard, just sign the damn papers, Why won’t you stop all these ridiculous capers?

It’s over, it’s done, now leave me in peace. Finally, a signature, I now am released.

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Stephanie Cash “Stiffy Le Pew,” ceramic

First Place, 3D

Stephanie Martin “Looking In,” ceramic

First Place, 3D CE

Brandy Wilson “Giraffe whistle,” earthenware

First Place, 3D

Sally Jones “Square Jars,” stoneware

First Place, 3D CE

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Debbie Alvis “Birds,” ceramic and wood

Second Place, 3D CE

Jennifer Hill “Flower Pot 1,” ceramic

Second Place, 3D

Angela Corson “9/11,” stoneware

Second Place, 3D CE

Melissa Pierce Untitled, stoneware

Second Place, 3D

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Laura Martinez “Splash Can,” stoneware

Third Place, 3D

Ron Aubry “Three Hiddy Holes,” ceramic

Third Place, 3D CE

Rebekah Burgess Untitled, Raku

Third Place, 3D

Jeremy Gray “Vase,” ceramic

Third Place, 3D CE

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Progress Kelsey DeHart

I have a bridge to burn, and another one to cross But moving on only reminds me what I’ve lost I’m letting go one piece at a time Taking control of everything that’s mine It’s a new path, a new start, a new day And I know I’ll eventually find my own way.

Beginner’s Haiku Jason Frazier

I am no poet I can not end haiku well Refrigerator

Open Your Eyes Hannah Hunn

I just hope that the next time you blink And open your eyes, You will see me In the overcrowded cafeteria In this awkward place we call Junior High School Where somehow I found you With the help of destiny.

Now I am where I wanted to be Sitting right next to you So close I could reach out and touch Your hand on the table, But you’re just out Of my nervous reach.

You are the cool kid in my eyes The boy that everyone wants to be with But our age, only twelve, Separates us further Because you and I are too young To understand the nature of love Or see past the masks we hide under.

But I have hope that maybe If you just open your eyes a little wider You will see me, hopelessly loving you When I haven’t a clue how To act on it And make the fantasies I see of us A reality.

If only you would just Open your eyes And see past my exterior And see the reality Underneath my own mask So the next time you blink Open your eyes And see me loving you.

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Wendy Sweeten“Fishing,” gelatin silver print

First Place, Photography

Susan K. Morris“The Bee Keeper,” gelatin silver print

First Place, Photography CE

First Place, PhotographySebastian Diaz“Lobo Estepario,” photograph

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Susan K. Morris“Shaping Iron,” gelatin silver print

Second Place, Photography CE

Paul Gantcher “Through the Looking Glass”

Second Place, Photography

Second Place, PhotographySamantha Larghe“Hidden,” photograph

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Jessica Poindexter “Mother”

Third Place, Photography

Vanessa Thedford “#1 Dad,” gelatin silver print

Third Place, Photography

Third Place, PhotographyCaren Marquez“Machine,” photograph

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“Blast! Are you so foolish you are not aware of what we are? Humble Gnomes we are!”“Gnomes?! That is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. Gnomes aren’t real.”“Ahah! Not real ay? Who do you supp’se we are then?”Thinking ‘bout the question, she answered “I’ve seen bugs before. And I use to think fairies

were real, but I never thou—”“Silence! Tell me, how is it these fairies get to be known but you know nothing of us?”“I, I’ve never actually seen a gnome.”“Ah but ye could have. You never knew you were looking at them. See we be living under

the clover for many decades. No person ever stopped to see what was here though, that is of course until now.”

“Oh that’s terrible! Why that must be awful living under there where it’s wet and dark all the time. Don’t you ever get tired of it?” She looked saddened upon uttering the words.

“No lad, it is who we are. We are proud for what we have.”“But why hasn’t anyone seen you before?”“Because, we be the smallest people inhab’ting the clover fields. The small things always

are never seen. Ye were too busy to see us.”Her face dropped and started to cry. Aye she was a sorry sight, but no one else could’ve

made her see what she had missed. “Why couldn’t I have seen you before? My entire childhood I spent in these clover fields, and never did I see something so wonderfully magical.”

“Aye, tis true. We seen you sprout over time. Honestly it was wondr’d if you ever would stop to find us.”

“Think of the wonders, all the places my imagination could have taken me just from knowing something so little existed. Empty, my childhood is now meaningless.”

“Aye, but ye wouldn’t have cared so if ye saw us back then. Now tis time to move on. Be sure to see all that’s out there.”

After those words, she stood, brushed off her knees, and walked through the field. She was walking away from ye tiniest reminders she could have. Her childhood she left that day. I hope she stays on thee path, but never forgets to see what’s along the side. As for the villagers, we stay put, waitin’ for thee next littl’n to wonder through these fields. Maybe they be lookin’ with they heart, not just thee eyes.

The Tiniest Reminders Elaine Rivera

Clink. Clink. Clink. The hammers strike the metal in a rhythmic fashion. Sparks fly from the welders in the lower levels as they solder the sword blades to the handle. With precision and skill, they work silently. On the other side of the village, the merchants tend to their goods, shouting their asking price, tryin’ to outdo each other. “I give ye the best goods in the village!” one swordsman shouted. Abruptly the swordsman ‘cross the street topped him; “I give ye better goods! Don’t be listenin’ to this swindler! Protect ye home an’ family—the creature draws near!” Back and forth throughout the day this continues; this be the nature of the village square barterers.

One may ask why there is a need for sword merchants in our village? Well, that I’ll just have to tell ya. Ye see, there is a danger out there, and some of the villagers aren’t the trustin’ type. We have Templar knights that ride through to see how we fare, but it still doesn’t put the folks’ mind to ease. I tell ya she’s just not a danger to us.

We use to fear the creature that upset the life we had, but some of the folk warmed up to her and welcomed her arrival. Ye see it was by accident she found us. We live as quiet as possible hopin’ no one a find us down here. Aye, it was I who was first seen by her. Startled, I drew me sword and took a mighty slash at her nose.

She found us, even with the village concealed by the green roof. Ye see it was by accident. She ran her hand through the clover and picked the very strand I was stationed on. Smelling it before it was braided into her chain of clover, she brought the blade to her nose, and with that I took a swing. She let out a scream that rang in me head for some time. Afraid of what she could do, I dropped from her grasp to the clover below. It was too late; she had saw me. It didn’t take her long to follow my path and find the village ye see. Ev’ryone hid in thee homes, and the knights were waiting for the worse. She looked at us with eyes so big. A young lady was she, maybe of 17 years.

“What—what are you?” she asked.“Back! Back! Who comes to destroy the village of Ashenput?” I demanded.Her face started to smile and with a laugh she said, “My name is Fay.” Turning her head on

its side she asked “Who, what are you people?”

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Sarah Romero“Stella”

Margo R. Lambert“Where is the water?”

Martiza Flores“What Happened?”

Adryn Velasquez“Eyes, Teeth, Birds and Stuff” charcoal

Aleks Ramirez“life underwater,” paper

Wei Jin“Nocturne,” paper

Reiko Minami“Vertigo,” ink

Lorena Garcia“Mac Daddy!” graphite

Emily Arthur“Just Hanging,” charcoal

M. Wiggins“Knotted Drapes,” charcoal

Arnold Tanpa“Knot Legal,” charcoal

Caren Marquez“Fruits for Sale”

Kenneth Smith“cocina con mi amor,” charcoal

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Aimee Beltran “Vacitas,” stoneware

Susan Gaile-Bain “Zoe’s Shoes,” ceramic

Aareal Gilbert “Sagittarius Mask,” paper pulp

Megan Nall Untitled, earthenware

Cynthia Perez“The Native Way,” ceramic

Meghan Alexander “A Tuscan Sunset,” ceramic

Laura Lombard Untitled, ceramic

Angela Corson “Tea Bag,” stoneware

Rolando Flores“my pots and pans,” charcoal and chalk

Michael ChandlerUntitled, mixed media

Aretha Williams “Clean up time,” soft pastel, conte

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