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Volume III No I February 2023 CAROLINA MUSE LITERARY ARTS MAGAZINE

Carolina Muse literary arts magazine VO LU M E I I I N O I F E B R U A RY 2 0 2 3 Editor in Chief Madison Foster Graphic Designer Ashley Pratt Dance Editor Rush Johnston Music Editor Jake Shores Poetry Editor Amanda Conover Short Story Editor Annie Earnshaw Newsletter Editor Maeve Riley Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine is published seasonally online at carolina muse com Access to the magazine is free online It is set in Baskerville 12 point font with titles in DM Serif Display All content design images and videos are Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine 2022 and cannot be republished without written consent from both the creator and editor Multimedia art forms may hold exceptions to this Email carolinamuse arts gmail com with questions or comments

From the Editor Since 2023 began I have felt the word freedom pulsing in my body pining to express itself It s knocking on the boxes that I have fit myself my life into whispering that there is more for me on the other side It s giving me permission to take a risk and free myself from anxiety what ifs and I can ts We all plan our days and lives out whether we realize it or not living within the confines of our own expectations assumptions Especially if you categorize yourself as a planner like me you may be so focused on doing that you aren t focused on living There are two ways I have found that get me better in touch with this freedom I ve been craving both meditative in their nature The first way is by spending more time outside On my daily walks in the woods let myself slow down and notice the air in my lungs and the sky above my head as I weave down the trail and back up and then I allow myself to break into a sprint if I want to I am determined to feel the sort of freedom and laser like mindfulness that a woodland animal feels expanses of nature to trek nowhere to be nothing to expect and no one to please The other way to free yourself is by creating Getting into what s known to creators as the flow is one of the most freeing feelings To be in the flow is to be so in touch with your inner self that you physically cannot overthink or stress your creative expression takes over You feel light allknowing completely immersed within yourself Whether you re lost in a song or letting a paintbrush dance across a canvas the flow has the power to carry you to freedom from something that has been holding you down This issue of Carolina Muse is an introduction to volume III a new era for our arts magazine Our goal this season is to cultivate an even more immersive arts experience and to connect on a deeper level with our community We are thinking outside of the confines of what was possible for us in volumes I II As we dive deeper into our examination of the human experience I hope our creators readers find the freedom within themselves to create without expectations assumptions and what ifs I hope the stories art in this issue give you permission to create outside of the box and from within yourself Madison

Table of Contents Art Photography 7 8 11 12 15 16 18 19 21 23 24 27 29 32 35 36 39 Happy in Heaven Ernest Kroi Icelandic Highland Alejandro Castillo Flora Foxglove Tennyson Corley Untitled 6 Irina Tall Novikova A Bird s Eye View Ann Privateer Unknown Places Abbi Shengulette At the Tone Sydney Hall Idealized Dreaming Ellison Rauch I JUST WANT BACK IN YOUR HEAD Ami Patel Streets of Raleigh Zane Al Nasa Untitled 2 Irina Tall Novikova On the Other Hand Abbi Shengulette RESURRECTION Ami Patel La Virgin de Suburbia Sam Shamard Orthodox Swimming Ernest Kroi Linville Gorge Alejandro Castillo let me stay Kenndal Rote Multimedia 6 10 33 37 38 Healing My Inner Child Lillie Persinger being laughed at by helen dog fanclub All You Have Is You Finleigh Zack Dance Sunflower Kathryn O Shea Love s the Only Thing Lillie Syracuse

Poetry 6 8 9 13 14 20 22 25 26 28 Communion Miller Voigt Displacement Olivia Romano An Ode to a tender gloomy heart Crosby Whitman Wood Walking Ann Privateer Delly Piper White Tattoo in Invisible Ink Olivia Romano Burn me out James Cole Worry Worm Crosby Whitman Wood Father Grace DiMaio Short Stories 16 18 30 36 Alrescha Abigail Celoria If I Was God Olivia Romano Other Acknowledgements 1 2 3 40 43 44 46 Front Cover artwork by Abbi Shengulette Ernest Kroi Masthead Letter from the Editor Meet Our Creators Credits Back Cover artwork by Abbi Shengulette Ernest Kroi

Dance Poetry Communion Miller Voigt A watermelon grows in a patch of dirt at a church near my house Sitting on the edge of the concrete Pregnant with fruit Swollen and striped Almost to bursting Her ancestor thrown out one Sunday afternoon late last summer Remnants of a fellowship picnic Of communion Of the breaking of bread in my own neighborhood There s a parable here Tangy and sweet on my tongue Pointing to fruit in unlikely places The gift of one another sown long after we ve parted How sometimes under the right conditions even things tossed aside can flourish into something worthy of feasting 6 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Artwork Happy in Heaven Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 Ernest Kroi 7

Photography Poetry Icelandic Highland Alejandro Castillo Displacement Olivia Romano 8 Warnings flash Worker bees flee her that the storm shut down the showers to the hive following the only light she texts me back his smelly feet will left for miles Exams don t stop overpower any stench coming from me for powerful gusts and power outages She s lucky I should start dating just to have My roommate is sheltering at her someone to hold and distract me Hurricane boyfriend s dorm and when I remind and cuffing seasons overlap for a reason Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Poetry Outside the rain slaps my dorm room for sociology and media law tests Campus life window so hard I think it will spider web doesn t halt for the weather whether we feel and I think of the thick spider webs safe stepping into the storm or not and the night that grow in the corners of my childhood doesn t end with being tucked in by gentle hands basement where I once crouched between when all I want is to have somebody anybody concrete walls with candles and my younger with me tonight through the angry roaring brother and sister during another storm and thudding outside But I am not matching but I can t remember which one It was cold with anyone on Tinder so I ll stay in bed alone Wind howled Mom folded warm blankets and re read Jane Eyre by prohibited candlelight around our tiny shoulders and drowned wishing I had bought Lemon Lavender instead out the rain with her animated voice narrating April Showers flickers laughing at me and the Shel Silverstein I tripped on my shoelace hurricane because it s October and I can t shower And I fell up She recited the poems from memory until we forgot that the wind outside could sweep us up and haul us away We thought it was fun to miss school back then even without power to play Mario Kart or watch Hannah Montana on our day in and our day off Now even when class is canceled friends on my hall leave snug beds to finish essays about climate change and study Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 9

Music being laughed at by helen dog fanclub 10 i m a teenage beauty queen at home i shine like a bright star when i m all alone bare back pale skin freckled face you re so mean i see all around me disco balls doing things fossils found and you still can t see me i m so proud of my new painted sheets i wrote this when i was home alone i guess you can tell since it just drones i broke my wrist when writing a poem i cut my wrist when the art budget was gone sunshine flows from fingertips to nose oh no the vaudevillian lifestyle still doesn t go well maybe if i smile i ll get a loose tooth john cusack couldn t save your life so why on earth do you want mine helen won t stop and i won t cry who even cares about the time john cusack couldn t save your life so why on earth do you want mine helen won t stop and i won t cry who even cares about the time Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

V ir st uwaol r k A Art Flora Foxglove Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 Tennyson Corley11

Artwork Untitled 6 12 Irina Tall Novikova Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Poetry An Ode to a tender gloomy heart Crosby Whitman Wood when I can t find the words I look to my women and to Whitman they show me in little ways what a gift softness can be in love and in song and in motherhood in trust how important it is to cherish how deeply I feel they fervently echo it is not frailty and it is not pitiful what cruelty it would be to keep it anywhere but the sleeve never too much always enough i m looking down at my arms now soft and strong with the capacity to give and accept to lift and embrace and oh to create and am reminded this oversaturation has never been a weakness a burdenous weight to feel pain and shape it into forgiveness to be crushed and share the pieces but worth the trouble it is never too much it is the biggest most beautiful blessing the heart is a reservoir with so much to share and so much to show Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 13

Poetry Walking Ann Privateer On weekends I skirt The farthest corners Of the empty schoolyard It s perimeter grows weeds And other cast off things While I am mainly interested In the soften soil underfoot There s always something new A flower a puddle an ancient Door knob and weeds taller Than the week before Weeds gone fallow or to seed Flowering near an empty Chocolate milk carton A 3 by 5 index card reads You are one in a million And here I walk alone To the east the redwood grove To the west chinning bars To the north a chain link fence And neighbor s backyards To the south the school s facade Peopled by people On the weekend no one In sight all is quiet except for a hum From the electricity box 14 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Ann Privateer A Birds Eye View Visual Art Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 15

Artwork Short Story Unknown Places Alrescha Abigail Celoria L aela sat along the roof s edge outside her bedroom window her father s fishing pole laid across her knees The hook and plastic bait still tied to the line swung back forth in the continual breeze She shivered as a stronger gust cut through her jacket causing the objects to clack together Fall had settled in Michigan She had been sitting there too long already She 16 Abbi Shengulette could feel her nose starting to drip Still Laela raised her head back up to the night sky not able to turn in yet Uncountable stars made the perfect portrait above her head A sigh tore out of her as she observed them She had spent days avoiding this sight afraid of feeling the change in it Stargazing had always been a quiet activity its peace stilling the mind but never silent She d always had Adhara s whispers to guide her through the constellations Adhara her sister Over many nights spent in this same spot she had filled in the Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

the western fish From there she traced the V connecting western to eastern and the two tethered fish appeared before her Aphrodite Eros in piscine forms tumbling through the Euphrates in order to escape the monster Typhon Pisces She held tight to the image wiping her beading tears away so as not to lose it Three years ago during an even colder October night than this she and Adhara had spent her last night of fall break out on the roof catching up on the intimate internal feelings one could only share with a sister Adhara had suddenly pointed out Pisces as they huddled close together grinning from ear to ear That one reminds me of you you know What Laela had said Is that some kind of mean joke I don t get No Adhara laughed It s the tie that makes me think of you That little line between them In reality the stars that make up those fish are so far away from each other but they re still connected always even if they re not swimming right next to each other And that is like us We ll never really be far apart you and I That s cheesy she remembered saying but her voice had come out full of emotion Clearing her throat she added I like that though She leaned her head on her sister s shoulder to hide sudden tears and the weight of Adhara s head pressed on top of hers the gesture returned Which fish do you think I am Laela had asked softly I don t know Maybe the eastern Why It s smaller Adhara snorted It s a little baby Well the western one has a fat head so Adhara burst out laughing but Laela managed to shush her into a giggle before her howls could wake their parents Adhara laid back against the roof and let out an occasional hiccupping chuckle instead as silence fell naturally between them The two girls watched the stars for a few minutes without speaking You see that star that connects the Short Story sky for Laela to the point where Laela could no longer recall a time where it was empty Adhara s fascination with stars had always seemed to be there to Laela It was one of those things that was simply a part of her with no apparent instigation behind it It certainly didn t come from their parents who were squeamish about the potential pitfalls of this secular interest In high school when her research went beyond stargazing to history mythology their father voiced his concern during dinner in his rapid Arabic Laela remembered trying not to giggle as Adhara listened on with tight lips Baba it s not horoscopes that I m into it s history This is a centuries old phenomenon of the ancient world tracing all the way back to Babylonia I did not realize you had such a scholarly vocabulary was all he said at first his brow creased in confusion as he searched for a stronger reply Then Adhara let out a giggle and suddenly the whole table was laughing even their mother Just do not get angry with me when I say these things It is only because I love you I know Baba Laela s smile quivered with the memory Tucking it away she swept her eyes again across the inky expanse above her Its shapes stories called out to her still fresh even after days of trying to forget There were the well known constellations easy to spot the Big and Little Dipper or Ursa Major and Minor the Big W of Cassiopeia the Dragon s Head of Draco Scanning to the east off Cassiopeia Laela easily spotted the Great Square of Pegasus tracing its dimmer wings extending into the darkness A hallmark of the October sky and tonight simply her airstrip Focusing on the constellation s farthest tip Laela tracked southeast using the curve between her thumb and pointer finger to plot the way The stars she was seeking were not the brightest but still made up a distinct feature a circular head She failed once forgetting her bearings but took off from the Square again Then it appeared the Circlet of Pisces head of Laela s smile quivered with the memory Tucking it away she swept her eyes again across the inky expanse above her Its shapes stories called out to her still fresh even after days of trying to forget Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 17

Artwork Short Story western and eastern right at the tip of the V Adhara suddenly asked pointing Laela took a moment to find it again Yeah It technically goes by Alpha Piscium but its traditional name is Alrescha derived from its original Arabic The cord Laela said Yes exactly So many stars actually have Arabic names some of them given way before Greek astrology came on the scene Isn t that cool Laela turned to catch a bright grin spreading on her sister s brown cheeks In the starlight she glowed looked one with the sky Laela finally let her tears fall Today marked one week since her sister had died Adhara would never graduate college never finish her thesis on the Middle Eastern origins of constellations never live out what should have been a long happy life The news had seemed like a cruel joke for the first few days random impersonal unfair Choked sobs slipped out of her mouth breaking the night s solemn silence There were the stars with Adhara and now without the clearest division of her sixteen years of life Please she whispered to the night sky a desperate monosyllabic prayer It did not respond Despite her blurred vision Laela raised the fishing pole in her hands It wavered for a moment in her grip She knew logically that this idea of hers was stupid maybe even sinful But still heart pounding in her chest Laela whipped the pole forward and released the line The familiar whiz whiz whiz whistled as the hook and plastic bait arced into the empty air For a glorious moment in that arc it looked as though the hook was headed straight for the Circlet of Pisces the head of the western fish Laela let herself imagine it biting her reeling it in and her sister made of stardust laughing beside her on the roof once more At the Tone Sydney Hall 18 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

V ir st uwaol r k A Art Idealized Dreaming Ellison Rauch Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 19

Poetry Delly Piper White I left Delly on the river She gives me her fever every weaving flower crowns remnant of her sticking to me with her nimble fingers like sweater fibers She sings sweetly offering I let the obsession get unhealthy cheese and honey wine She We wade naked on full moons drips serenity like a fountain and soak in the twilight I toss her a penny to grant my wish She offers me pieces of dried fruit to see her on the evenings when and I decline the offer so it doesn t bullfrogs talk to the crickets weigh in my belly like devotion She laughs so raspy I could take I slip the dress off my shoulders her right there and pretend the rowboat and stand with Delly in the boat is a gondola in Venice until we scream at one another I m drenched in lemon and eucalyptus She whispers her apologies nails The bugs leave me alone but I ve digging crescents into my cheeks attracted the attention of her to brand me with her truth She stands on sturdy legs fabric I will never know her how I want holding her hips like soft hands so I leave at the break of daylight Ghost of the river but don t wash her off my skin I call her a feral moon woman She pulls me under the water Her kiss is cold and sickly 20 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Artwork I JUST WANT BACK IN YOUR HEAD Ami Patel Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 21

Poetry Tattoo in Invisible Ink Olivia Romano Despite the copious amount of Tito s and Sangiovese I remember you very well she would be to see my face on FOX for anything other than organizing a soup kitchen around the holidays Not your last name or the slope of your nose but the pressure of your hands She always told me not to get tattoos and not to get with bad boys like you Mom warned me to be wary of The tattoo you stitched with coarse skin and tongue is forever printed on my body in invisible ink the touching and noises that would pervade my nightmares but I never knew I would sweat and cry Chipped nails needles that poked and prodded painted a pattern I did not choose during the daytime too I clutch my bitter coffee tightly to my chest with the hope that its warmth will comfort Your alcoholic offerings numbed my mind more than my body and failed to remove the pain me and my trembling hands send a wave of espresso onto my white joggers I don t grab a napkin It s too late of the ink seeping deeper and spreading in deformed blotches hot to the touch The coffee like your ink already invaded but this stain isn t permanent like the one you left On my skin yours is a mark nobody else can see but I will always feel I hide your handiwork under layers of pilled sweaters and baggy sweats even when I m with my mother no especially when I m with my mother like I am now feigning relaxation in her kitchen with the tv blasting news about Epstein and MeToo between President s Day dealership sales and I think about how ashamed 22 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Streets of Raleigh Zane Al Nasa Photography Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 23

Artwork Untitled 2 Irina Tall Novikova 24 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Poetry Burn me out James Cole Lose me if you love me let the lantern hit the floor let the sparking of its falling spread flames across the door Fill the fallowness of focus which comes blustered with a shriek from the hollow of the sinus where your heart has grown too weak Take a lungful of my smoking prickled light with cinders swirl burn me out of your sclera harry all your hairs to curl Let skin succumb to crackle and let it caramelize the glaze of my sweet and simple succor singeing quick within the blaze Marvel at the swift succession of your hearth replacing home turning thatch to ashen atrophy and then all to catacombs All becoming thus untethered toward that warming snow of worth that coats the blackened drywall with the pungent palls of earth And to say that I m a fire is to only speak the facts while to say the heart s a muscle is to say that it contracts and extends itself indefinite impossible to contain save all the awful falling waters intervening from the brain I think we re more than our assurances insured for incidentals more than eerie little ecstasies sprung bright from elementals So thank God for salt and ceremony thank Hell for what retains every powdered heap between us fallen from our white cremains this Pyrrhic trance and prophecy which so benevolently becalms these anguished simulations of warmth between our palms Because any mete of friction is anesthetic to the skin a third degree reminder which left the leaden linens thin our shawls too charred apart from us in this rigor mortal braid a tactful black reminder of concessions that we made But of all the fats that made us that have had their time to rend so little s left to suggest that they were not made to end And yes fire s a tired metaphor I guess I ve yet to learn not every line that I ve made rhyme was also made to burn Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 25

Poetry Worry Worm Crosby Whitman Wood I extract and place each Worry Worm one by one in an imaginary lock box with pinched finger and thumb We make brunch plans for the morning The worms are easily appeased by scrambled eggs and my mother I turn the phantom key and place the heavy thing gently on my nightstand I would like a clear head while I read about AI before bed In the morning when I wake they will be waiting as always Expecting habitual like dentures in fizzy water I am unable to escape their imperative tether and unwilling to live without the distractive comfort of them just being there Sitting with The Sick always stuck in my mouth necessary and crowded 26 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Abbi Shengulette Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 Photography On the Other Hand 27

Poetry Father Grace DiMaio I went to find you last night By the time I reached the stone garden the moon was the only light left on for me I swam through the black river calling out to you but you couldn t hear me You know I m scared of the dark The wind washed me in the names of the frost bitten genera you lie with What a beautiful arboretum you ve come to reside in I start to weep my face dripping like when I was small Crybaby I remembered you had shamed And although you are the reason to this day I cannot be vulnerable I suck up the salt and keep drifting How do you still hurt me when grass is growing over you Will you still hurt me after it covers me too When I join you You know I m scared of the dark Frantic now and drowning in darkness I ask how can July be so cold My heart beats so loud an almost disrespectful sound among the abandoned vessels sailing around me Their valves don t pump anymore Just as I m thinking of racing back to shore I hear a sound so faintly familiar and drenched in warmth Keys hitting the table You re home There before me in the murky water I Find You I cannot see you but I know you re there below my threshold of life Why did you leave me out here so alone You know I m scared of the dark Can I sleep next to you My room is just across the hall but I d feel much safer in here Is the soil porous enough for breath Or do I have to stop I find feeling in my knees enough to collapse The blades of grass hold me and I close my eyes It is the closest I ll ever get to you 28 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Artwork RESURRECTION Ami Patel Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 29

Short Story If I Was God Olivia Romano Genesis The spring my mom had an affair with our priest was the year I gave up art for Lent In the beginning mom created falsehoods stories There was always volunteer work to be done at the church whether it be organizing tables chairs for an event or prepping for the next bake sale She also picked up an evening yoga class as a new hobby She was at church or the studio at least three times per week and I was proud of her for growing her faith fitness habits Until one afternoon when I was bored without my paint set to keep me occupied and decided to take a bike ride across town to see if she wanted help organizing the church s storage closet I thought it would be nice to have some mother daughter bonding time even if it involved cleaning Between my high school class schedule with three APs and SAT prep and her evening hobbies I barely saw her anymore I didn t know trying to spend more time with her would have the opposite effect When I pulled the string to turn on the light I did not expect to find the priest in the closet with her Mom I stood frozen in the doorway clutching the tweed string duct taped to the light s short metal pull chain I d never even walked in on my parents kissing let alone having sex My mom rarely changed shirts in front of me unless we were all sharing one room on a family vacation and dad was taking too long in the bathroom She was always a very modest woman So seeing her then topless with her skirt hitched up her thighs kissing the neck of a man who was my Father but not my father was more than shocking It was traumatizing Rosalie she called but I was already fleeing the crime scene as fast as possible to bike home and hide in my room Lent is a time to give up indulgences and things 30 that we love in order to test our self discipline and know what it feels like to sacrifice something important to us Since I spent all of my time drawing painting my parents told me that replacing that time with prayer would bring me closer to God I didn t necessarily buy into the whole deal but my dad reminded me that Jesus sacrificed his life for me so the least I could do was put down the paintbrush for forty days Also he s paying for my college My dad not Jesus While I sacrificed a time consuming hobby my mother was giving up her family No more paints graphite pencils Taco Tuesdays with both parents But there was still Mass every Sunday We arrived in separate cars Mom sat in the first pew and I sat next to her husband five rows behind while her lover preached about forgiveness To this day I don t know whether mom continued to attend Mass because of her love for God or the priest but my dad was the most devout man I d ever known He was the one who always made sure I was up every Sunday by 8 AM even if there was a foot of snow growing outside If the car couldn t back out of the driveway he would just shake me awake and hand me an Eggo and a shovel I used to tolerate going to church When I was too old to stay in the Crying Room but too young to understand Revelation I crouched between the pews in the back and scribbled crayon memories of my parents pushing me on the tire swing in the backyard or decorating our tree for Christmas One December aphids residing in our chosen pine hatched inside our living room creating chaos as dad stomped all over the floor and mom trailed behind to gather the crushed bugs with paper towels In the pew the next morning I recreated the scene by stabbing the paper with gray to speed up the bug drawing process but dad got mad and swiped the crayons paper away I wasn t allowed Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Exodus At sixteen I didn t need an affair to tell me that Catholicism might not be for me but it also didn t help to prove the case that it was While the affair drove me a little further from God it seemed to drive dad closer to Him than ever God worked as a distraction and a scapegoat Two weeks after mom came home and confessed her sins over spaghetti meatballs at the dinner table I told her that if she didn t tell dad I would I asked him how he could still praise the Lord and thank Him It s God s will What about my will Why should God care about who my mom sleeps with I didn t ask him this Instead I tried to pray for my dad s sake I sat with him while he thumbed through the rosary and I fumbled along I prayed for Lent to be over soon so I could paint again I never understood how dad didn t hate her Mom betrayed him It didn t make sense Or maybe he did hate her and was just really good at hiding it Maybe he never really loved her as much as I thought he did My list of explanations for his nonchalant behavior kept growing with every boring hour I had to overthink our new family dynamic through the rest of Lent since I never actually used my spare time to pray He never even yelled at her I wanted to scream and kick and cry like a toddler who lost a favorite toy but he just excused himself from the table and started cleaning the dishes while I tried to inflict violence on my mother with my glare I stormed off to my bedroom threw myself under my covers and Facetimed my best friend Eliza who d already been filled in that afternoon of course Just think of all the new emotional inspiration you ll have when you finally go to that art studio after Lent she encouraged I felt myself sink deeper into my mattress There was an art studio down the street from the church that I saw from a distance every Sunday I wanted to join the artists and be inspired by their sketches pottery I dreamed of the chatter and clatter of brushes in water glasses Perhaps I also hoped some of their passion would sink into me Even if I hadn t given up art for forty days I didn t know what I would paint or draw anyway I found myself wondering what I would create if I was God but that only increased my religious conflict and did nothing for my creative postLent bucket list Mom used to help me become inspired when I first started to paint Sometimes she would take me to the park to people watch or we would get ice cream Mint chocolate chip dripped through sticky fingers and covered the blue green painted on my palms A few times we visited art museums My mom took me on slow walks through halls filled with paintings of saints miracles probably hoping the combination of religion art would instill a strong connection with the Catholic faith in me While I didn t ever re create The Last Supper I found that being surrounded by art helped reignite motivation optimism After our girls trip I raced into my bedroom and slammed the door demanding quiet so I could concentrate on my new masterpiece Without motherdaughter outings and art that spring my life outside of school felt muted There were very few distractions aside from my studies and my prayers with dad I asked God if there was any way to give me back the close family I once had I faced resounding silence in my house and in the House of God God may be forever faithful but my mother was not She moved out two weeks before Good Friday Short Story to draw in church after that I asked God if there was any way to give me back the close family I once had I faced resounding silence in my house and in the House of God Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 Leviticus Rules were always a comfort to me I colored inside the lines and did all of my homework on time I never talked back to my elders The structure the rules gave was my favorite part about going to church Everyone stands and sits at the same time and the gospels are familiar from year to year The Ten Commandments set very clear expectations and I appreciated the outline It seemed so easy That s what upset me the most 31

Artwork La Virgin de Suburbia Sam Shamard 32 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 across the folding table where she was pulling a blonde braid through a paper towel to try to mop orange paint out of the ends she d dragged across her painting palette At least I know I m supposed to paint with my brush not my hair I replied dabbing more blue onto the sky on my paper She grinned and reached out a wet red hand My name s Eliza I had blue on mine so when I shook her hand our palms turned purple I m Rosalie Nice to meet you Eliza crumpled up the paper towel and plucked her paintbrush out of the water cup Do you wanna paint something together she asked already coating her brush in more orange And that was the beginning of my one only forever friendship Who knows Maybe your parents won t get divorced and your mom will move back home and you ll all laugh about this in ten years over the turkey at Thanksgiving she told me over FaceTime while yanking a knot out of her damp hair with a thick brush Like I said no wisdom there Short Story Dance It is so easy to not commit adultery Mom tried to talk to me about it in the weeks after I found her tangled up in the arms of a holy man but she didn t know what to say She could come up with no excuse other than lust There was no way to make up for breaking our trust and ending family Sunday dinners and Friday movie nights together I couldn t tell her to pray ten Hail Marys and then forgive her for her sins I was more mad at her than I was at the priest even though he d probably broken more rules as a man married to the Church Eliza couldn t offer any wisdom either Her parents got divorced when she was eight but they were one of those ex couples that could still somehow remain friends and co host birthday parties She was also the optimist out of the two of us Eliza was the only person I told about the whole affair I called her the day I found out in between locking myself in my room and sitting down for dinner We told each other everything It was comforting to have someone who made fun of me for my obnoxious laugh and webbed toes in return for me making fun of her optimism to the point of being naive She was also the first person to see all of my artwork Fitting that we met in first grade art class Your tree looks like big broccoli Eliza said from 33

Short Story 34 Numbers I knew I wasn t alone in my concerns about my faith but that didn t make them easier to think about The news was plastered with issues around the world Poverty hunger and illness made me doubt that God existed and also gave me a reason to want him to exist How else could I believe everything would work out the way it was meant to Knowing the church going peers that walked my Catholic school halls though God had some competition for who was in charge in this world Girls who changed into mini skirts push up bras in the bathroom at school gossiped about the people they served at the soup kitchen over the weekend and were prouder of the time spent on their knees on Friday nights rather than Sunday mornings To be honest I d wanted to be them during my first year of high school but the amount of passive aggressive comments targeted at Eliza and myself for reasons as ridiculous as our thrifted clothes and paint splattered hands in comparison to their pristine looks made me reconsider And the guys with their silver crosses dangling around their necks beat up scrawny freshmen in the locker room and found excuses to skip Mass but when asked by a teacher claimed their faith was a priority for them and it had changed their lives How nice the teachers said and noted that these were the good boys I didn t fit in with this crowd but I was a hypocrite to the others if I complained about the sufferings under God and then waltzed into church every week with my parents As my complaints grew so did my distance from my peers Except Eliza She assured me that once I got to college I would have so much self growth that I would get all of my answers The only thing I ever heard her complain about was when she spilled her coffee all over a canvas that d taken her weeks to paint Even then I m pretty sure she just added a few brown brushstrokes and the painting looked better than before Deuteronomy Dad noticed I was quieter than usual as we ate lasagna before the Easter vigil It was our first holiday meal without mom Eventually he stood dropped his napkin down on the checkered tablecloth and returned with two thick blue folders He cleared his throat and spoke softly You can t make art yet but you can still look at it he said setting the bulging folders next to my half full plate I flipped the top cover open and gasped I was bombarded with every color crayon paint I d ever owned Artwork from when I was just drawing lines at age two through the portrait I did the year before in school was stacked haphazardly on top of each other Some of them I remembered gifting to my parents but I didn t know they kept the ones laying around the house or meant for the trash Dad ran a hand through his hair and scooted his chair closer to mine This one s my favorite He pulled on the corner of a waxy drawing of the two of us holding hands in a meadow It was one of my church pew drawings I lifted my sauce covered napkin and used a clean corner to wipe my eyes I always thought you hated when I drew during Mass I whispered brushing my fingertips lightly over the crayon s bumpy texture The paper was sturdy but I was still afraid that if I applied too much pressure the drawing would disintegrate in front of me I ve never hated anything you ve done Dad straightened back up and avoided my gaze He focused on applying butter to a dinner roll I might not always agree with your actions and I ll always try to guide you toward God But I will never hate you I didn t know if we were still talking about the drawing or not He pushed the bowl of green beans toward me Don t forget to eat some vegetables I scooped a few beans onto my plate and we both returned to our silence this time with tears in our eyes that we refused to let fall because we both wanted to be strong for each other After we cleared the table I flipped through the rest of the artwork Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Artwork Orthodox Swimming Ernest Kroi Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 35

Short Story Photography The paper underneath the one of dad and me was also from my pew drawing days It listed the Ten Commandments in red around a big cross No matter where I end up in life I don t think I ll ever forget those Revelation A few weeks later dad had a business trip and attended Mass at the first local parish he could find I stayed home and promised him I would drive myself to church on Sunday All my life I had driven down the three roads to get to church but this was the first time I had done it alone After I parked crookedly in a space in the narrow parking lot I walked along the sidewalk careful not to step on any of the daisies peeping up through the cracks The wide doors to the church beckoned me inside but I slowed my pace and glanced at the art studio two blocks over The priest stood at the top of the stairs behind me He shook hands with a regular and then greeted the man s wife with a kiss on either cheek His back was to me I turned toward town and kept walking Linville Gorge Alejandro Castillo 36 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Music Sunflower Chorus Woke myself up like a sunflower today Turned my face up to the light till the blues done fell away Couple of good friends tell me that it s gonna be okay So hell might as well believe those things they say Cause I got power in the wires and heat in the vents Got a job slinging tacos but the money s all spent Life keeps marching forward and it ain t always fun Some days you get the burn and some days you get the sun Kathryn O Shea Chorus Cause I got food on my plate and a teabag in my cup And hot water on the kettle s gonna fill it on up Never did help a damn thing going crazy Some days you re the dirt but some days some days you re the daisy Chorus Chorus Cause I got clothes on my body and shoes on my feet Got a jar of wildflower honey gooey and sweet I woke up this morning so I might as well sing Some days you get the honey some days you get the sting Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 37

Music Love s The Only Thing Lillie Syracuse Don t let go Don t let go Love s the only thing Love s the only thing you can hold Take its toll Take its toll Only if you let time Only if you let time make you old If I m being honest There s plenty of things that I get that I don t need Like whipped cream in my coffee And dirty magazines I m a little short on romance But you got the biggest heart I ve ever seen I want to crawl right up inside it Honey sing your song to me If I m being open There s silly dreams running through my head It s all pink clouds and unicorns And taking Dolly Parton out on a date And I ve gotta tell you I m lost in your lullaby And I m gonna lay here And breathe while you change my life And I been feeling feelings I just cant hide And I got to tell you Darlin I ain t even tried No Don t let go Don t let go Love s the only thing Love s the only thing you can hold Love s the only thing Love s the only thing you can hold 38 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Artwork let me stay Kenndal Rote Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 39

Meet the Creators Meet the creators Lillie Persinger they them is a Greensboro based dancer creative Born in Greensboro NC they earned BAs in dance studies and sustainable development from Appalachian State in December of 2021 and has since returned to the piedmont to connect with and learn from the dance community there Lillie finds great joy in expressing themselves through many different creative outlets such as short film screendance poetry and painting Creative process helps them to further connect to their own experience and their broader community and feels like an essential part of being alive They hope their work makes you feel something anything Miller Voigt is a writer based in Asheville NC where she lives with her high school sweetheart and their two kids She began writing short form essays poetry after giving birth to her oldest child four years ago Writing has connected her with others and helped her process motherhood womanhood and personhood She loves reading thrifting and a good coral lipstick Born in Asheville NC Ernest Kroi was raised in the lush scenery of the Blue Ridge Mountains and greatly enjoyed the artistic downtown scene He is currently attending the University of North Carolina of Greensboro taking on two majors for art and media studies Ernest s artistic influences include high saturation stylized realism and slice of life with subtle unnatural juxtaposing or comedic features His work has also been featured in previous editions of Carolina Muse as well as UNCG s Coraddi magazine 40 Born in the bustling city of New York Alejandro Castillo was raised in North Carolina when his family wanted to get away from the city life In his teen years he began to learn photography as a hobby The greatest source of inspiration for his photography is the graceful Appalachian mountain range the Blue Ridge Parkway and his travels Currently he is beginning his journey in becoming a professional photographer with a dual focus in landscape and real estate photography Olivia Romano is a senior at Elon University After graduating in May 2023 with a BA in English literature and creative writing she would like to work in publishing editing and to be surrounded by books readers all her life In her free time Olivia loves to travel visit local coffee shops and complete puzzles She hopes her writing entertains inspires and causes readers to laugh Olivia has been writing creative pieces since middle school and is thrilled to share her first published fiction piece poems with Carolina Muse Katherine Anne Ledbetter dog fanclub is a North Carolina born raised artist As a child she performed all over the Triad in various musical operatic performances Ms Ledbetter formally studied classical voice at UNC School of the Arts in Winston Salem NC While her main focus is opera she also enjoys performing in the more modern or indie style She recently released her first full length album under her solo project name dog fanclub entitled it won t last forever She also has a dog named Texas Pete Instagrams katoutboy dogfanclubmusic Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

Irina Tall Novikova is an artist graphic artist illustrator She graduated from the State Academy of Slavic Cultures with a degree in art and also has a Bachelor s degree in design In 2022 she took part in Pozna Art Week Her work has been published in magazines Gupsophila Harpy Hybrid Review Little Literary Living Room and others In 2022 her short story was included in the collection The 50 Best Short Stories and her poem was published in the collection of poetry The wonders of winter Crosby Whitman Wood is a 20 yearold stage properties student at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts born raised in Raleigh NC Growing up in the south has fostered her love of nature and her seasons as well as Southern Gothic literature In addition to pursuing an arts oriented education Crosby also enjoys fiber arts tap dance and creative writing Sincerest thanks to Carolina Muse for the opportunity Ann Privateer grew up in the Midwest and now resides in California She has traveled extensively in the Carolinas She is a poet artist and photographer Some of her recent work has appeared in Vo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 Third Wednesday and Voices 2022 Born raised in Apex NC Abbi Shengulette is currently a college student at UNC Greensboro Although art isn t their major she made a point of taking at least one art class a semester and in doing so rediscovered their love for creating art Her preferred mediums are acrylic paint photography and much of their work deals with vast spaces as well as subtle emotions She wants to continue to be inspired by the unknown the unpredictable Their work has also been featured in UNCG s Coraddi magazine Meet the Creators Tennyson Corley is a sculptor or as she calls it ceramic illustrator residing in Columbia SC Her practice explores the use of earthen clay as an illustrative tool to create creatures with carefully crafted backstories Each a mixture of Beatrice Potter illustrations and an Orwellian Animal Farm character Tennyson was raised by her mother an illustrator in the heart of South Carolina on a large horse stable With years spent in her own mother s studio Tennyson was encouraged creatively and gained a lasting love for art Abigail Celoria is a junior at UNC Wilmington pursuing her BFA in creative writing She has been writing avidly since the fifth grade with a particular affinity for literary fiction She currently serves as an editor for three of her university s publications Her work has previously appeared in Atlantis A Creative Magazine Sydney Hall was born in Wilmington NC and grew up in the Surf City Wilmington area She is currently a senior pursuing a Bachelor of Fine Arts in new media and design at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro There she is part of the Disciplinary Honors College and Chancellor s List Her work addresses emotional responses mental health fear the unnatural and death In the fall of 2020 Sydney started her exhibition gallery journey She has displayed work at UNCG Greensboro Project Space and the Center for Visual Artists in Greensboro Additionally her work has been published in multiple magazines both digitally physically These include Horrid Carolina Muse and Corradi Ellison Rauch is a North Carolina based artist who is currently studying at the University of North Carolina 41

Meet the Creators Greensboro NC and running a small business Purrfectlyfine Art She loves working with every material under the sun and continues to learn grow in her art Her work mainly deals with subjects like femininity mental health Working with mediums like wheel thrown ceramics hand built ceramics metal casting metal sculpture welding quilt making resin casting drawing and mixed media Want to see more of her work Check out her website https purrfectlyfineart square site or follow her on Instagram purrfectlyfine_art Piper L White is a self published author of two young adult novels titled Flicker and Flare Her work is featured in literary magazines such as Atlantis Portals etc Her debut chapbook Barefoot in the Woods was published by Bottlecap Press in May 2022 She has lived in North Carolina her whole life Ami Patel is a 2020 UNC Chapel Hill graduate from Asheville NC currently residing in Raleigh NC Her passions are found in entrepreneurship health and the arts Ami is a lover of hiking yoga hot tea Haruki Murakami novels anime and kittens At any cost she is led inevitably by her heart and explores the concepts of love nature and the world beyond reality Through incorporating elements of light darkness her artwork is focused on abstraction and centers around the intersection of chaos orderall in hopes to better understand and connect with the earth people around her Zane Al Nasa was born in North Carolina and was raised in Rolesville NC He moved around a lot but always found himself staying near the Raleigh area where he has made his greatest memories best friends Living in North 42 Carolina is extremely unique especially with the ways to socialize with friends and the biggest being taking strolls in downtown Raleigh which is something that many others have done His photography is primarily focused on what it s like to live in North Carolina His favorite being a photo taken while walking in downtown Raleigh it captures the essence of the living streets and towering buildings that all North Carolinians have come to love James Cole is a poet author filmmaker and scientist based out of Charlottesville VA He is currently working on his Ph D in neuroscience at the University of Virginia His work has appeared in numerous publications including Oddball Magazine Poetica Review and Angel Rust Magazine In 2019 he released his first collection Crow come home through VerbalEyze Press Aside from his creative works James is also the host of the Poetry Live Showcase the founder of the Charlottesville Poetry Critique Circle and an instructor at WriterHouse Grace DiMaio is a 22 year old stage properties student at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts in WinstonSalem NC She has lived in North Carolina since she was two years old and the beauty of this state often inspires connects her to the poetry she writes Besides frequenting local parks to write think in Grace also enjoys visiting the city s historic cemeteries A lover of the macabre she finds a pretty comfort in writing of the eerie topics of life She sincerely thanks the Carolina Muse for this opportunity to share her work with you Sam Shamard is a mixed MexicanAmerican artist originally from Austin TX She received her MFA in ceramics at Clemson University and her BFA in art education at the University of Mary Hardin Baylor Prior to attending graduate school Sam Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

scapes of the human experience For a decade Lillie honed her craft in Nashville TN where she wrote released her debut album Coming Up Diamonds in 2020 with producer and Grammy nominated drummer Mike Marsh The Avett Brothers Dashboard Confessional Lillie grew up in the cradle of Table Rock Mountain There her heart was woven from the forests mosscovered trees waterfalls birdsong and red mountain clay The Appalachian Mountains have now called Lillie home She lives in Brevard NC with her wife and their three pup children where she writes records new music for release in 2023 Finleigh Zack artistic director of FZD is a dancer choreographer based in New York City Finleigh s work is heavily influenced on collaboration personal experience and the outside eye She is a previous Kenndal Rote is a self taught artist member of WHITE WAVE living in Charleston SC She Young Soon Dance Company and creates work that intertwines Second Avenue Dance Company She received her BFA abstract illustration and in Dance from NYU Tisch School of the Arts Her work language Her work is childlike has been selected and performed at New Century Dance by nature with bold lines Project Boink Dance Film Festival Arts on Site as well swift drawing The language as many others She has worked with various companies used is drawn from her own artists who have influenced her work including Rena journals writing She incorporates Butler Alonzo King David Parsons Yin Yue Dwight unwanted items into most of her pieces Rhoden and many more Her love for creating has not to create something new versus something discarded only influenced her as an artist but as a human Art is a way to make sense of the world around her and to connect to her local community Kathryn O Shea is an Ashevilleborn singer songwriter mostly known for conjuring unsolicited catharsis for strangers in bars Carried only by her unmistakable voice soft electric banjo picking O Shea s soul stirring original songs employ confessional lyricism and winding melodies to leave listeners tear stained yet somehow deeply galvanized to wake up and fight the good fight again tomorrow As The Greenville Journal puts it There s a unique dynamic going on in the music of Kathryn O Shea so if you d like to keep in touch or you re just in the market for a good cry say hi to kathrynoshea on socials or visit kathrynoshea com Meet the Creators worked as a middle school art teacher in central Texas Sam is an upcoming 2023 Penland Winter Fellow and her work will be exhibited at ArtFields in Lake City SC this spring She is currently focused on making slip cast ceramic assemblages and wallpaper adorned altars that explore divisions of space identity In velvet streams of joy grief and love Lillie Syracuse s voice music fill the golden spaces of the in between It is in these spaces that Lillie explores the stunning complexities heartVo l u m e I I I No I Fe b r u a r y 2 0 2 3 43

Credits credits Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine is a multimedia arts magazine showcasing primarily young adult creators in the Carolinas Our mission is to provide a multi sensory immersive platform for young adult creatives that reveals the way various art forms can work together to tell the true stories of our human experience We publish short stories scripts poetry art photography music dance in a digital multimedia format on a triannual basis Whether you submit a document image file audio file or video file our team loves to see creators test the boundaries of their art form to bring their passions interpretations experiences and messages to life Want to add your voice to the arts community of the Carolinas Submit your creative work to carolinamuse arts gmail com within one of our three open submission windows to be considered The subject line of your email should read Your Art Form Your Title by Your Name Please view the specific requirements for your art form at www carolina muse com submit Once you submit your work one of our editors will be in contact with you in the following weeks regarding your submissions status and possible next steps Carolina Muse is proud to have a collaborative editorial process in which multiple exchanges between creator editor may be needed to get your piece to its highest potential We do accept simultaneous submissions however we ask that if your work is accepted elsewhere communication remains transparent timely We reserve the right to edit short stories for grammar mechanics clarity and consistency with the magazine s style We also reserve the right to edit video submissions for consistency with the magazine s style 44 Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine

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Carolina Muse Literary Arts Magazine ISSN 2700 7030 carolina muse com