2016 ingenium
DESCRIPTION
The tenth edition of Holy Spirit Prep's arts and literary journal.TRANSCRIPT
INGENIUM2016
VOLUME X
HOLY SPIRIT PREPARATORY SCHOOL
UNITYART STIX AND SOAP RESIST
ANNA PODRATSKYCLASS OF 2017
FIRST PLACE VISUAL ART
HOLY SPIRIT PREPARATORY SCHOOL4449 NORTHSIDE DRIVE, NW
ATLANTA, GEORGIA 30327678-904-2811
ST. JOSEPH'S CHAPELWHITE COLORED PENCIL ON BLACK PAPER
TOM YAOCLASS OF 2016
SECOND PLACE VISUAL ART
TABLE OF CONTENTS
YOUTUBEMIXED MEDIA COLLAGE
ALEX PINZONCLASS OF 2017
BE YOURSELFSPRAY PAINT
KYLA HILLCLASS OF 2017
Switch - C. SorianoUntitled - M. AnkerAdvanced Comp. Dreams - A. PodratskyUntitled - J. OliverThe Sun and Moon - M. WrightCanyons - C. BellDolphin - S. WiedlUntitled - C. CunninghamSaltee Island Puffin - S. DolanHindu Horse - C. SanchezUntitled - O. FordBlue Flow - J. DalyStrength - A. PodratskyBig Sur - J. DalySaharan Sunset - L. CocksJellyfish - E. PerezDaisy - A. RozelleTake Off - J. DalyWanderlust - C. SanchezFighter Plane - C. BellSnow Mountain - A. PinzonI Am. - S. ClearyCrazy Eyes Bob - N. CasalDistorted - S. ClearyEuro Design - T. YaoCosmos - C. SanchezComplete - K. HillSaint - T. YaoHand of God - T. YaoTwo - M. WrightUntitled - H. TijarUntitled - O. FordRomanus - L. PanUntitled - W. CasalDragons - C. LaoThe Dark I Know Well - D. MasonA Sonnet for the Adolescent Poet - N. CasalUntitled - H. LiMoo - O. MacikSurfin’ - J. DalyHamilton - D. MasonUntitled - M. Spencer
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PORTRAITGRAPHITE
MADDIE SCHULTZCLASS OF 2018
COMPLETEMARKER ILLUSTRATION
ANNA PODRATSKYCLASS OF 2017
Iwogima Collage - C. BellFord - A. RuizThe Flash - R. StaglianoPain - S. AllenForce of Nature - G. VillavicencioAnatomy Triptych - L. BohlingHope - K. HillAlone in the Darkness - S. AllenVictory - D. O’HareDisected Self Portrait - T. YaoUntitled - J. RadostaThe Preaching Samurai - L. PanThirsty - A. PinzonThe Crash - D. MasonGolden Horse - C. SanchezMohawk Carpet Design Finalist - M. MasonLightbulb Study - S. ClearyI am Lost: the Fork in the Road of my Life - J. ArnoldPeople Should be More Offended - D. GranthamMohawk Carpet Design Winner - A. RozelleUntitled - J. KellyCamera - M. WrightThe Amazon - R. MunozMonkeying Around - G. VillavicencioUntitled - O. FordUntitled - C. SanchezSurrounded by Perfect - E. JonesGeorgia O’Keefe - S. PerezDeconstructed VHS Study - S. ClearyHis Downfall - S. AllenJust Me and the Beat - R. MunozAlmost Famous - H. LiGio Niceguy - G. VillavicencioUntitled - O. FordRhythm of the City - M. WrightSenior Portfolios Sinead Cleary Delphine Mason Tom YaoPlastic Beach - G. MartinezGiraffe - L. CocksThe Virgin Guadelupe - A. Pinzon
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SWITCHWATERCOLOR
CELIA SORIANOCLASS OF 2019
UNTITLEDCOLORED PENCIL
MASON ANKERCLASS OF 2019
UNTITLEDWATERCOLOR
JOSH OLIVERCLASS OF 2019
ADVANCED COMP. DREAMSCOPIC MARKER
ANNA PODRATSKYCLASS OF 2017
THE SUN AND THE MOONBY MORGAN WRIGHT
CLASS OF 2019
The boy with a sun for a soulWalked down the crowded hall,
With a carefree smile.His eyes sparkled and he lit up a hall,
A room, a planet filled with dark.And every day he walked down that hall,
Through that room,Around that planet.
And he gave himself to light it.He glowed and with each step down that hall,
Through that room,Around that planet
He grew a little darkerUntil he was no different
Than the hall, the room, the planet he walked.And one day as he trudged down that hall,
He saw a glimmer of light.Through the room and the light grew brighterAround the planet and it was too bright to seeBut with each step he took the light dimmed
And he saw her,Walking toward him too.
The girl with a moon for a soulAnd something lit within him
When he saw her,Dimming to light a dark planet.
And as she saw himHer light grew brighter too
And together they lit up the hall,The room,The planet.
And as long as they were togetherTheir light never dimmed.
CANYONSWATER COLOR
CHRIS BELLCLASS OF 2016
UNTITLEDACRYLIC ON CANVAS
CRISTINA CUNNINGHAMCLASS OF 2018
DOLPHINFELT TIP MARKER
STEPHEN WIEDLCLASS OF 2016
UNTITLEDDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
OLIVIA FORDCLASS OF 2019
HINDU HORSEILLUSTRATION MARKER
CAT SANCHEZCLASS OF 2017
SALTEE ISLAND PUFFINACRYLIC ON CANVAS
SEAN DOLANCLASS OF 2020
STRENGTHCOPIC MARKERS
ANNA PODRATSKYCLASS OF 2017
BLUE FLOWACRYLIC ON CANVAS
JORDAN DALYCLASS OF 2018
BIG SURDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
JORDAN DALYCLASS OF 2018
SAHARAN SUNSETACRYLIC PAINTING
LUKE COCKSCLASS OF 2018
JELLYFISHSCRATCH ART
ELIZABETH PEREZCLASS OF 2019
TAKE OFFDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
JORDAN DALYCLASS OF 2018
DAISYGRAPHITE
ANDI ROZELLECLASS OF 2017
FIGHTER PLANEHAND CARVED WOOD
CHRIS BELLCLASS OF 2016
WANDER LUSTMIXED MEDIA
CAT SANCHEZCLASS OF 2017
SNOW MOUNTAINDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
ALEX PINZONCLASS OF 2017
I AM.DIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
SINEAD CLEARYCLASS OF 2016
CRAZY EYES BOBBY NATALIE CASAL
CLASS OF 2017
Once upon a time, there was a chillun named Bob. He wuz a nice boy, an’ he meant well, but he had jist one problem: he couldn’t never close his eyes, or even blink. When he wuz a itty bitty baby, his fambly didn’t want him. His papa said: “Them eyes are so creepy that he’d scare the pope clear away from Church.” His mama said “What in tarnation is wrong with this ’un? He got the crazy eyes!” And the name stuck to him like Ajia to kale. From then on, he was Crazy Eyes Bob. Crazy Eyes Bob couldn’t never even fit in with his fambly. One day, his big brother Charlie wanted to play hide and seek with him. He said: “Crazy Eyes! You stand over by that tree yonder, close your eyes, and count to ten.” Then he ran off faster’n you could say crazy eyes. Bob went over to that tree, and he tried and tried and tried to close his eyes, but he couldn’t. He counted to ten real slow like, and then he went off to find Charlie. Charlie wuz tryin to hide behind a bush, but you could see him plainer than a pine tree in a parking lot. Bob found him real quick. Charlie was spittin mad: “You cheated! You cheated! Your eyes were open! I saw you! You’re a big fat stinkin’ cheater!” Bob’s huge eyes started to water. “But I didn’t cheat on purpose! My eyes wouldn’t close!” Charlie didn’t care. He said “I don’t care what you say, yer just a yellow-bellied cheater and I won’t play with you no more!” Charlie stomped off, and Bob started to cry from his wide open eyes. Since his fambly didn’t like him, Bob tried to make friends with the other chilluns, but they all ran ‘way from him, screaming on account of his eyes. Bob was hopin’ that when he went to school things would be better, and nobody wouldn’t pay no mind to his crazy eyes. Before his first day of kinnergarten, Bob was nervouser than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He did his best to be good, and his first day was going smooth as molasses . . . until naptime. The teacher yelled to the kids: “Y’all listen up now! It’s naptime, and that means all ya’ll gotta go to sleep! I don’t wanna see nonna ya’ll with your eyes open!” Bob laid down on his bitty matt, like the rest of the chilluns, and he tried his hardest to close his eyes. But his eyes wouldn’t close. The teacher stomped up to him directly. She said “Bob! When I say eyes closed, I mean eyes closed.” He whimpered: “Yes maam, it’s just that mine don’t never close. That’s why they call me crazy eyes.” She said “I don’t want nunna your sass. If you was Pinocchio, yer nose would be from here to Yankee land. Close them eyes, now!” Bob was gettin’ upset; “Ma’am, honest to Jesus, these peepers aint never closed. I can’t but help it.” Teacher was madder than a wet hen. She spat: “Boy, if you don’t watch yerself you gonna get a switchin’ faster than you can say Confederacy. Imma tell you one mo’ time: close them peepers!” Bob tried so hard to close his eyes. He tried moving them up, and down, and up and down, and this way, and that way, but they jist wouldn’t close. The teacher said: “Boy, did you just roll them eyes at me? Now you done messed up. You git your disrespectful self up to the principal’s office ’terrectly.
Bob went up to the principal’s office. He was so scared that he wanted to close his eyes. But the principal was real nice. He said “Bob. You seem like a nice chile, but imma be honest with you. Your eyes could’ve scared Sherman away from the sea. Please put these on. These’ll hide your face and stop you from looking so crazy like.” He gave Bob a huge pair of sunglasses. Bob put them on, and he was happier than a tornado in a trailer park. And with his crazy eyes all covered up, people started jist cal-lin’ ’im Bob. And everyone lived happily ever after.
COSMOSART STIX AND SOAP RESIST
CAT SANCHEZCLASS OF 2017
DISTORTEDACRYLIC ON CANVAS
SINEAD CLEARYCLASS OF 2016
EURO DESIGNMIXED MEDIA DRAWING
TOM YAOCLASS OF 2016
COMPLETEART STIX
KYLA HILLCLASS OF 2017
SAINTMICRON PEN
TOM YAOCLASS OF 2016
HAND OF GODMIXED MEDIA DRAWING
TOM YAOCLASS OF 2016
TWOTHIRD PLACE LITERARY SUBMISSION
BY MORGAN WRIGHTCLASS OF 2019
Two childrenPlaying on the lawn
Unaware of time long goneTwo lovers
Exchanging glances across the roomSoon to be bride and groom
Two soulsJoined for life
Now that they’re husband and wifeTwo months
Left until childrenOh, won’t that be wild?
Two doorsSlamming as they close
But they love each other, everyone knowsTwo cars
Collide on a cold dark nightMaking quite a sight
Two machinesKeeping her alive
So the reaper will arriveTwo beats
And her life comes to an endHe’s just lost his best friend
Two grandchildrenBring him a smileIf only for a while
Two blinksAnd he fades from this world
Going to see his girlTwo children
Playing on the lawnUnaware of times long gone
UNTITLEDDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPHY
OLIVIA FORDCLASS OF 2019
UNTITLEDCUT PAPER COLLAGE
HABEN TIJARCLASS OF 2019
ROMANUSSTENCIL AND SPRAY PAINT
ANDREW PANCLASS OF 2017
UNTITLEDSTRING PAINTING
WATSON CASALCLASS OF 2019
DRAGONSCUT PAPER COLLAGE
CYNTHIA LAOCLASS OF 2019
THE DARK I KNOW WELLCHARCOAL
DELPHINE MASONCLASS OF 2016
THIRD PLACE VISUAL ART
A SONNET FOR THE ADOLESCENT POETFIRST PLACE LITERARY SUBMISSION
NATALIE CASALCLASS OF 2017
You write of envy, love, the stars, and spite;You think you harbor thoughts as yet unheard,
yet overwhelm the cosmos with the trite.What did you hope to teach, what novel word?
Cannot your hormones find a new relief?The eye of heaven blinks not at your cares,
Yet you persist in pouring out your griefand drown the unmoved world in your affairs.
Too many forests fall to sate your urgeto fill Time’s compass with your fatal verse.
Structure and Rhyme are honored in a dirge,Our Mother Tongue sleeps senseless in a hearse.
If pen be mightier than sword in truth,such weapons should be taken from the youth.
UNTITLEDCUT PAPER COLLAGE
HEIDI LICLASS OF 2019
MOOSPRAY PAINT
OLIVIA MACIKCLASS OF 2017
SURFIN'DIGITAL PHOTOGRAPHY
JORDAN DALYCLASS OF 2018
HAMILTONMIXED MEDIA
DELPHINE MASONCLASS OF 2016
UNTITLEDACRYLIC ON CANVAS
MATTHEW SPENCERCLASS OF 2018
IWOGIMACUT PAPER AND SPRAY PAINT
CHRIS BELLCLASS OF 2016
FORDGRAPHITE
ALEX RUIZCLASS OF 2019
PAIN
SAMANTHA ALLENCLASS OF 2017
Pain.Excruciating
Undeniably unbearable
ScreamingWhaling
CrumplingIn agony.
I screamI cry out
I yellAnd beg
And pleadFor help.
For someone to take this pain from me
But no one ever hearsBecause what you think you see
Is not what is really me.
I’m only begging in silenceYou can only hear my plea
If you are GodOr you are inside of me.
FORCE OF NATUREACRYLIC ON CANVAS
GIOVANNI VILLAVICENCIOCLASS OF 2017
THE FLASHROSIE STAGLIANO
C LASS OF 2020
A burst of fresh cold wind, a streak of ruby
red, and a burning building not burning anymore.
Picture a city with villains, and superheroes who
take the villains down. The fastest man alive speeds
right past you in the blink of an eye, off to save the
city. He goes to find his evil opponent to fight. “Pow,
pop,” punches are thrown. A team helps the hero
take down the villain with every tactic they can think
of. Once the villain is defeated, they are taken to a
secret prison where his powers will be useless.
You sit back and look at your huge flat screen TV
and enjoy the rest of the episode of The Flash.
VITALSACRYLIC ON CANVAS
LAUREN BOHLINGCLASS OF 2016
HOPEART STIX
KYLA HILLCLASS OF 2017
VICTORYGRAPHITE
DYLAN O'HARECLASS OF 2019
ALONE IN THE DARKNESS
SAMANTHA ALLENCLASS OF 2017
Scared.Dark.Alone.
Surrounded by fog
Grey.Everything’s grey
And bleak.No sunshine.
Just rain
Happiness?No
Not today.Only sadness.
EmotionalHurt.
In pain.
I want to scream out from this undeniable acheThis hurt I feel.
Why?!Why can’t it just a go away?
I want to feel happyI want to feel free
But no one’s ever thereBeside me
Like I need themTo be.
Everyone leavesLeaves me alone.
So here I sitLetting the darkness surround
And consume me.
TOP LEFT:
DISECTED SELF PORTRAITGRAPHITE
TOM YAOCLASS OF 2016
UNTITLEDSPRAY PAINT ON CARDBOARD
JOHN RADOSTACLASS OF 2017
THE PREACHING SAMURAI
PVC, NYLON AND STRINGS
LIHAO PANCLASS OF 2017
THIRSTYART STIX
ALEX PINZONCLASS OF 2017
GOLDEN HORSEDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
CAT SANCHEZCLASS OF 2017
THE CRASHACRYLIC ON CANVAS
DELPHINE MASONCLASS OF 2016
MOHAWK CARPET DESIGN
NATIONAL FINALISTSCRATCH ART
MARY PALMER MASONCLASS OF 2019
LIGHTBULB STUDYMIXED MEDIA DRAWING
SINEAD CLEARYCLASS OF 2016
I AM LOST: THE FORK IN THE ROAD OF MY LIFESECOND PLACE LITERARY SUBMISSION
JOHN ARNOLDCLASS OF 2017
‘In 100 feet, keep left…’ Do you know that feeling when Siri, or whatever Samsung hipsters use not to be mainstream and normal, says one thing, but your best friend, conveniently the biggest back seat driver you know, directs you somewhere else just as confidently? That’s basically where I am in my life: I know my path in life will come to me, and hopefully it will be blunt and right in front of me because I am clueless about what I want for myself, but then those convenient backseat drivers relay the incessant, “The SAT is more important than anything else you can do in high school,” or “Don’t worry about what others think, you’re only a high schooler in the most socially connected societies in history,” or my personal favorite, “High school wasn’t as hard for me, but here is some advice that worked 30 plus years ago.” I find that one gives me the best laugh; I almost recommend stand-up comedy to these enlightened thinkers in my life. ‘In 75 feet…’ I must be doing something wrong with my life because people always find time out of their busy schedules to give me a hand about my life choices. I’m lost between pleasing myself and pleasing all the flag-bearers, trumpet-tooters, and noisemakers that make my life so entertaining. “What grade are you in?” “11TH.” “Oh, what are your goals for college?” “I don’t know.” “Well, let me tell you about [insert almamater here]…” “Oh, that’s nice.” I’m lost, and I believe I will always be lost, but I also believe that being lost isn’t a burden, rather a gift. Such a gift has allowed me to take in the scenery, smell the roses, and answer the age-old question about the grass on the other side. I believe being lost has let me become excited about everything, and at the same time nothing. Being lost, I am notoriously deaf to others’ advice; I am blind to all the mail that says, “I want you!” ‘In 50 feet…’ I believe I’m not whining about being lost because after being lost for so long, I don’t worry about the future. I believe being lost has made the future small talk: I’m lost between how to live my life according to myself or others, but I know the difference between a good life and a bad one. I’m lost, but I don’t care because I am a happy, hard working person who likes a challenge. So, please tell me about your almamater, and I’ll play along; tell me about the big moneymaking industries of today, and I’ll take your word for it. I have come to believe that being lost is a surreal escape because I am not lost on a single path. Being lost, I can humor Siri and follow her lead, or I can do the same with my life’s back seat drivers: all in all, being lost when it comes to life has made my life exciting. ‘In 25 feet…’I think, because I am torn, I learn about myself through the choices I make. Where I go next, who knows? Right now I am lost, cruising through life at 60 mph, approaching that fork in the road. Right or left, you decide, but I got a lot of options to think about. ‘Rerouting…’
PEOPLE SHOULD BE MORE OFFENDEDDANIEL GRANTHAM
CLASS OF 2017
Society should be outraged! People should be up in arms! Nowadays, people are just
so used to being abused by the government and by other people that they barely react to
anything at all. “People are just desensitized to what happens around them nowadays,” says
Donald Trump, the leading expert in societal interactions. “They just don’t respond like you
would expect them to.” A recent poll by WPW shows that people don’t think it’s important if
there’s not exactly the number of potato chips they want in the bag, or if a cup of coffee that
a person buys is slightly cooler than they wanted it. “This is the problem with America these
days,” says Hillary Clinton, a regular costumer of the Daily Planet. “People don’t know how to
react properly when catastrophes like these happen. Just the other day I saw a confederate
flag on someone’s car, and people weren’t surrounding it and protesting! I was offended that
other people didn’t seem to care. We live in a day and age where everything is trying to insult
us, and if we do not react properly, then soon everything we care about will be gone.”
Many people believe that what we do is called “overreacting”, but they are wrong. We
are just paying attention to our own problems. Many people don’t know everything that of-
fends them, so here is a list of all the things people should find offensive: people doing their
jobs well, especially if they’re underpaid; law abiding citizens; people telling others what they
think; people thinking for themselves; anything made in America, especially American Flags;
anyone expressing religion of any type; when someone acknowledges any widely celebrated
religious holiday, for example Christmas; any competition where everyone cannot be the
winner; and most of all, anybody who believes in the ideals of fairness and the rights of life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. In the present world, people are too busy to notice the
evils going on around them, so get up, quit your job, and start complaining today.
MOHAWK CARPET DESIGN NATIONAL WINNERSCRATCH ART
ANDI ROZZELLECLASS OF 2017
CAMERAGRAPHITE
MORGAN WRIGHTCLASS OF 2019
UNTITLEDACRYLIC ON CANVAS
JAELYN KELLYCLASS OF 2017
Sprinting and stretching her toned legs as she takes each stride, she runs from the enemy. A sudden sharp sensation rushes aggressively down the right
side of her abdomen. Biting her lip and clasping her hand on the wound, her eyes search hungrily for a place of refuge. She stumbles behind a massive tree. Leaning against the tree and shutting her eyes, she gasps for breath, her lungs
crying, wheezing, panting and whining for a breath of fresh air. A small pool of blood accumulates next to her wound. She cautiously lifts her shirts to examine
the wound. She exhales a long and slow breath and whimpers as she wraps her fingers around the bow. Quivering, she extracts the weapon from her body.
Grunting and stumbling, she walks to find her comrades. Although every step draws forth agonizing pain, she forces herself back into battle. Black spots cloud
her vision. She cries and screams for help as she falls to her knees. THUMP. Her comrades rush to hear the source of the sound… but they are too late.
THE AMAZONREGINA MUNOZ
CLASS OF 2019
MONKEYING AROUNDFELT TIP PEN
GIOVANNI VILLAVICENCIOCLASS OF 2017
I love my family above anything else, besides God of course, and I am so thankful for them. I am especially thankful for all of their successes. Many people have come up to me in the past couple of years and have asked, “What’s it like to be a Jones?” or “Are you a perfect student just like your siblings?” If you do not know, my brother and sister both earned a perfect score on the SAT, with my sister earning a perfect score on the ACT as well. Todd and Meredith are very skilled at taking standardized tests, but I struggle a little more than they do. It’s not because they’re smarter or better than I am, and I know that now. At first, the pressure that I put on myself because of their “perfection” was overwhelming- I thought I had to do everything they did and perform just as well. However, I began to realize that I am my own person and that I did not need to be a clone of them. Instead of being burdened by my family’s successes, I have taken them as challenges and goals. I think by being “surrounded by perfect,” I have taken the initiative to show everyone what I am capable of, what I can accomplish, and who I am.
SURROUNDED BY
PERFECTEMMA JONESCLASS OF 2017
UNTITLEDDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
CAT SANCHEZCLASS OF 2017
UNTITLEDDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
OLIVIA FORDCLASS OF 2019
GEORGIA O'KEEFE MASTER COPYOIL ON CANVAS
STEPHANIE PEREZCLASS OF 2016
DECONSTRUCTED VHS STUDYPEN AND PAPER
SINEAD CLEARY CLASS OF 2016
HIS DOWNFALLSAMANTHA ALLEN
CLASS OF 2017
He’s too prideful nowLost a lot of lives by now.
He takes “control”To give blow by blow
These evil menWhat we know
They want
DeathDespair
BloodshedTerror
Upsetting the balanceWith this torrentThis rampage
This vile beholdingOf his own pride
Blowing up his egoHe is tearing down
Piece by pieceThe city we love
And soonHe will move on
To destroyTo desecrate
All that we knowAll that we love
Soon he will take downThe world
One two three….one two threeIt’s just me and the beatI take in a deep breath and gently place my hands over the keysOne two three…one two threeI begin to tap my footAnd I stop.I close my eyes and all I hear…Are the beatsOne two three… one two threeBut are they so much moreBecause eachTells a storyEach is placed where they belongSo I begin.I glide my hands across the piano, pressing my hands on the keys.My body in rhythm with the songPlaying some louderWhile others are quieterI close my eyes and I see it…Their story.The beats dance across the piano in such harmonyLike children swinging, up and downTheir feet always in syncI feel a rush go through meIt brings such joyOne two three… one two threeThen the beats slow to a waltzThis can’t be it was only starting!But the beats grow matureAs hand in hand they danceNever missing a step.Twisting.Turning.Twirling.Like things I have never seen beforeAs if they have been doing it for a lifetimeMy hands begin to cramp but I don’t stopThe story has just begunOne two three… one two threeBut the song crawls to an end and the notes vanishI open my eyes andMy vision blursAnd now I’m in a ballroomI see notes dancing around me, bumping and rushingNow I must really be going crazyBut then I think,One two three… one two threeOnce again I shut my eyesNo, I thought.I am not crazy…It’s just me and the beat.
JUST ME AND THE BEATREGINA MUNOZ
CLASS OF 2019
ALMOST FAMOUSGRAPHITE
HEIDI LICLASS OF 2019
GIO NICEGUYGRAPHITE
GIOVANNI VILLAVICENCIOCLASS OF 2017
UNTITLEDDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
OLIVIA FORDCLASS OF 2019
RHYTHM OF THE CITYCUT PAPER COLLAGE
MORGAN WRIGHTCLASS OF 2019
AP: STUDIO ART PORTFOLIOSThroughout Ingenium, you will see many works by AP Art and Studio Four Students. These artists have spent at least the last four years at HSP preparing for the AP Art and Studio Four classes. Students enrolled in the course have two semesters to complete 24 unique works of art. Half of the portfolio serves to demonstrate the artists’ mastery of multiple visual art skills. The other revolves around a singular theme of the artist’s choosing. These “concentrations” are meant to represent the individual’s artistic voice conveyed through his or her chosen style and medium. In the pages that follow, you will find a small sampling of the studio art concentration from this year’s AP Art class.
2015-16AP ART STUDENTS
Sinead Cleary Delphine Mason
Tom Yao
SINEAD CLEARYMy concentration explores youth subculture through photography. More specifically, my series looks beyond the music to the band members, their followers and what life was like in their time. My work demonstrates how subcultures are influenced by current events, music and fashion as well as many of the gender roles and beauty standards held for women throughout the ages. This theme has such a strong personal connection to me because I love music, fashion, art, and culture. If it wasn’t for photographs, these subcultures could have been lost or forgotten, and I, therefore, would have never discovered them myself. By focusing on youth subcultures, I have been able to combine all of my favorite things and create a truly personal and intriguing series of photographs for my AP Concentration.
MOD DIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
SKATER GRUNGE DIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
BEATNIKDIGITAL PHOTOGRAPH
DELPHINE MASONMy concentration is a macroscopic exploration of oceanic life expressed through abstract acrylic
paintings. I have always been fascinated with ocean life, partly because it is so full of mystery and is filled with organic movement and vibrant colors. I wanted to capture these aspects by painting sea
creatures in the style of Georgia O’Keefe’s flowers. O’Keefe zooms in on her subjects (flowers) to the point where they are barely recognizable to the viewer, which abstracts the original form. I used the same technique when capturing the vibrancy of ocean life so that I could make the viewer question
what he/she is really looking at.
AFRICAN CHICLIDACRYLIC ON CANVAS
SQUIDACRYLIC ON CANVAS
JELLYACRYLIC ON CANVAS
TOM YAOMy AP Concentration is a series of pen drawings on a variety of Catholic themes that I designed to be used as the front of greeting cards. I converted to Catholicism during my time at HSP where I immedi-ately fell in love with its deep teachings and art. As a new convert, I saw a strong need for cards that celebrated the major seasons and sacraments of the Church. I created my drawings in a style that reflects the traditional stained glass and wood carvings closely associated with the Catholic Church. My hope is that these drawings can be turned into greeting cards that illustrate the true meaning of our many celebrations.
LENTPEN AND INK
CONFIRMATIONPEN AND INK
DETAIL FROM MARRIAGE PEN AND INK
INGENIUM EDITOR:
Delphine Mason
FACULTY ADVISORS:
Tim DurskiJamie Reger
Rochelle Rombalski
SPECIAL THANKS:
National Art Honor Society
PLASTIC BEACHCUT PAPER COLLAGE
GABE MARTINEZCLASS OF 2019
GIRAFFEPEN AND INK
LUKE COCKSCLASS OF 2018
THE VIRGIN GUADALUPEART STIX
ALEX PINZONCLASS OF 2017
4449 Northside Drive NWAtlanta, Georgia 30327