I was taking a walk downtown, crowded by people. When I was able to walk away and saw how bright and empty the building was.
By Sara Ben Abdallah
I made this video as a final for my 1st-semester Humanities class. The assignment was to show a place in Tucson that holds important memories and show your understanding of it beyond basic characteristics. I chose the Speedway/Country Club area and wrote a poem on what that spot represented to me in terms of Tucson youth culture. The video features shots of my middle school, various sidewalks, Himmel Park, and Himmel Park library. One day, I hope to show this video to my kids so they understand what it means to grow up with cactus spines.
By Brooke Richards
(for the boy I can always see but never have)
A place of beauty
In a stunning world
Made more magnificent since your arrival
That the stars could shine brighter
That the lights could spark more intensely
That one of the prettiest countries
Could be intoxicated with the allure
Of someone much prettier
Some people need to see the world
Experience each city
One by one
Explore every shop
Read every book and take every picture
The world needs to see you
By Caitlyn Swift
I was born and raised on a small family farm along the San Pedro river valley in the desert of southern Arizona. I spent my childhood barefoot, surrounded by nature and in the company of animals. My rural upbringing led me to see life in a different light, and I strive to transfer this way of thinking from my mind to the canvas. With my background and home in mind, and nature as my greatest inspiration, I use art to spark people’s interest and share the beautiful aspects of life I’ve grown up with.
This photograph was taken at the lake in my neighbor hood and stood out as odd to me for a long time. The frame of dark trees that balances between the water and the Sky is something that isn’t a part the Tucson environment. These trees are not native and require a lot of work and water we don’t have. The sunset contrasts with the silhouettes of trees and almost appears to be fire racing up to meet them. Tucson’s native environment closing in on my manufactured green neighborhood.
By Reia Li
We leave Kaibab National Forest
I feel relief, surprising relief,
under the arc of blue.
I’ve left behind
the polyester couch
of the hotel room,
the panicked arguments about where to go
(I’ll come back someday to hike Havasu Falls).
As we drive,
streams through the prairie grass
on the side of the road,
filters through the spiky branches of the junipers,
and travels on.
There is a certain frame of mind, which, when it chooses to visit me, makes me feel like every single little thing in the world has poetry: poetry in movement, poetry in stillness, poetry in the simple act of existing. I love finding these pockets of inspiration that allow me to capture an ordinary occurrence in a poem.