Editorial Team

Indie Affair

From the Editor in Chief

About Jessica Vieira:

Bitten at a young age to pursue
creative pathways in various artistic
forms, which led to an event filled
existence, while dealing with the
struggles presented within our
existence, gaining an understanding
and appreciation for life and all
of its organic beauty. Writing has
been a calling to her soul and with
her through the years albeit, the
last few she has been writing her
take on Ancient Alien theory with
mythology and modern man.

Dear Reader,

have had the fortune to meet many

incredible souls through Instagram.
Finding a wealth of support for myself
and the community to which I now belong.
Being moved and my heart captured by the
words read, once an opportunity presented
itself to assist writers in gaining further
exposure, I jumped at the chance. A quick
glance at this issue shows you our continued
commitment and resolve to publish a journal
of the highest standards devoted exclusively
to the circulation of indie artwork.
Our purpose is to showcase any artist,
no matter the background, reaching a
new audience, moving each individual, by
touching their heart as we have been. After
all, sharing is caring, right? Support in the
artist community as I have found, is tight
knit and welcoming of new talent. In life
there are struggles, the way we choose to
utilize those experiences makes a difference.
Helping ourselves or another by sharing the
hard times and lessons learned is therapeutic
and freeing of our souls from the burdens
we carry.
We cordially invite all artists, of any medium and
skill level in contributing to this publication.
Enjoy the beauty each participant shares
with us through the blood ink penned in
poetic, fiction, or any other manner of each
wondrous composers experience. Show your
support for these soulful artist by following
them on Instagram.
Jessica

Indie Affair is a non-commercial publication dedicated to publishing

meaningful work (articles, stories, poetry, etc.) as well as disseminating
and promoting the work of emerging and established authors and
artists through digital innovation.
Indie Affair publishes poetry, fiction, flash fiction, art/photography,
and cross-genre works from contributors around the world. We also
publish reviews of new/old books from the major publishers and
small presses, and articles about aspects of poetry and prose writing.
We welcome submissions from all artists dedicated to producing
exciting, innovative prose/poetry.
If you would like to submit your work, please feel free to contact any
of our editors via mail to:
Editor in Chief
Jessica Vieira

indie.affair.magazine@gmail.com
www.scribd.com/user/309033918/
Indie-Affair

Proof Reading & Editing

Kawaihoano Lahui
Layout Design & Graphics
Gabriel Acosta

https://www.facebook.com/
indieaffairmagazine

Founders
S.P.
Jessica Vieira
Gabriel Acosta

Copyright and Disclaimer Notice:

This is a non-commercial e-magazine.

This publication, Indie Affair - its name and design are the
exclusive property of S.P, Jessica Vieira and Gabriel Acosta. The
publication may be non-commercially, copied and distributed
for classroom use, so long as the name of the contributors,
creators, a copyright notice, a license notice, a disclaimer notice
and link to the material are provided. Other uses will depend on
the permission of the authors themselves.
By submitting their pieces of writing authors agreed on the
following terms:
*The contents (i.e. articles -poems, stories, artwork, etc-) are
property of the authors who keep the copyright of their work.
*Authors are NOT paid for the pieces of writing that they
submit.
*Authors allow the e-magazine to publish their pieces of writing
once only, without any sort of financial compensation as this
is a non-profit work done by volunteers.
*The formatting of every piece of writing -unless otherwise
requested- will be adjusted by the editorial team according to
the needs of the design for better reading.
The author is invited to mention Indie Affair as a source
whenever the author later republishes the article on other
platforms. Altering the content of the publication in any way is
prohibited. No material may be reproduced without permission
in writing from the e-magazine founders and/or the authors.
S.P., J.Vieira, G. Acosta - 2016 - All Rights Reserved.

In the recent days, trag edy has str uck all

of us. We at Indie Affair Mag azine, give
our dee pest sympathy to all hit so hard
by the senseless violence and hatred.
We mor n the hor rific loss of life, for
the families, friends, community, and
suppor ters love no matter our location.
Stand tog ether and show love without
limitation. -I.A.M.

II

Indie Affair

Issue 1

CONTENTS
Issue 3 - June 15th - 2016

P.01 - Why do you write?

P.24 - High Definition

P.02 - Indies Challenge Winner

P.25 - The Skin

P.03 - Melancholy

P.26 - The Secret Whispers of Tulips

P.04 - Six Questions with Kris Johnston

P.27 - Cycle on Repeat

P.06 - Tigress

P.28 - Twin Soul Colors

P.07 - The Passenger

P.30 - The Magical Well

P.07 - Tears

P.31 - Age Old Question

P.08 - Terror Rising

P.32 - Day Terrors

P.09 - Pieces of Longing

P.32 - The Fault

P.10 - Oasis

P.33 - A World Gone By

P.11 - Thank you, Jesus

P.34 - Digging You

P.12 - Autumnal Bliss

P.35 - Darkness

P.13 - Charcoal Interpreter

P.36 - Ashes of Life

P.14 - Methuselah Speaks

P.36 - Sculpted Heart

P.15 - Savor the Darkness

P.37 - My Golden Sun, Guyana

P.16 - My Book of Poetry

P.38 - Lament for Her

P.16 - A King Like a Lion

P.39 - Lucian and The Stars

P.18 - Once Upon a Time

P.40 - Cheshire Grin

P.18- The Sky of my Body

P.41 - Wake

P.19 - Candice

P.42 - Oceanus Procellarum

P.20 - Orso

P.43 - Tears of a Dying Star

P.21 - Snow Valley

P.44 - Ouroboros

P.22 - The Grass is Always Greener

P.45 - Music To Watch Boys To

P.23 - When You Think of Them

III

Indie Affair

Page 1

Why do you write?

By Cynthia Dougherty

poetry_goddess88

Bio: C. Dougherty is a writer

who delves into the heart
of her reader and tries to rip
forth chaos. The turbulence of
truly feeling is an experience
not to be quickly forgotten.
Her lyricism and rhyme spins
a dream within a dream, and
soon the reader is lost.
Presently her first collection
of poetry is for sale on Amazon,
follow the link:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/
1530190061

henever I am asked this

question, I struggle to grasp
one singular answer that wont
overwhelm my companion. I mean
how does one respond to this
question without launching into
a Shakespearean lecture on the
virtues of art and self-expression?
Im sure that when my friend
casually throws this landmine,
they want my bubble gum answer.
Something they can quickly chew
and absorb, but to me, it is more
of a seven-course French cuisine
meal. I can only try to condense
my answer into an aperitif that will
whet their appetite and allow them
to contemplate a deeper meaning.
A writer does not write in order
to attract the masses and become
instantaneously famous.
No. A writer creates a world full of
color, depth, imagination, emotion,
and more using only a variety of
combinations with the 26 letters
available in the alphabet. The
moment you fall in love with words,
it is an obsession. Books are often
a solace when the intermingling
of human chaos and corruption
can get to be too much. I myself
am a self-proclaimed extroverted
introvert. My daily life requires
social interaction, but at the end
of the day, every day that which
gives me tranquility is my writing.
Writers are mad in such a glorious
way. The ability to create characters
from the voices that tumble about
in our imagination, and follow the

story that leads us down yet another

rabbit hole. It is an adventure, and
as such it can be fraught with peril.
However, danger can make it that
much more interesting.
I cannot speak for other writers. I
can only speak for myself; writing
is my air and my solace. I read, and
I write, then I read some more. It is
an addiction that I fully embrace.
It allows me to be more human
throughout the day.
I write in order to breathe. I write
in order to process. I write in order
to exist without an emotional
implosion consuming me and
everything that I am. Writing,
poetry, and prose has helped me
lock onto a more substantial me.
I write because it flows the way
my blood does. I cannot expect to
spend more than a few moments
without reaching for my phone,
my journal, a napkin, a wrapper,
or something to spill my life upon.
The written word has helped me.
I have grown from observation,
introspection,
inspection,
digestion, and improvisation. I
cannot begin to contemplate a life
in which I do not write. I would
suffocate. I would crumble and
asphyxiate under the depth of
emotion, both joyous and dark and
everything in between. So I ask you
this, why do you write?

Indie Affair

Page 2

Evanescent.
By Sumyanna

Google+ SumyannaWrites

Bio: Im a homeschooling mom

of 4 children in Colorado, and
I write in my free time. My
pen name is Sumyanna. I wrote
poetry while I was in high
school, but stopped writing
for over 20 years. I have only
started writing this past year
again.

CHALLENGE
PROMPT
W I NNER!

History can often be

The harbinger of sad events
its injustices inure our hearts
to discrimination and aggression
We study at mothers knee
Where thoughts and proclivities
Are first developed,
Where our truths are mixed
With the elixir of our prejudices
And the ardor of our hearts
Are often misplaced
Only seeking out the face
Of those who look like me
To be different,
Requires rumination A tossing of the thoughts
A determined questioning
Of all that we are taught
For the glamor of following
In our fathers footsteps
Must fall aside
In the moonlight of our days,
With open hearts, let us pry
The lid of truth
And peer inside
And may prejudice
Find its proper place:
Evanescent.

Indie Affair

Page 3

Melancholy
By Amanda

abhoppes

Bio: Writing has been my

passion since the age of 7 my
inspiration to keep going with
my writing has always come from
my mother. Even though she
passed away when I was 18, it is
now driven by her memory. My
name is Amanda Hoppes, born
and raised in Waterloo, Iowa. My
writing is my every step, every
move, every breath I take; Its my
vibrant smile, my saddest frown,
my every single mistake; Its my
heart on fire, my soul so deep, my
mind always free; Its my life line,
my past, present, and future. My
writing is ME.
As of May 2016, my first
poetry book From Midnight to
Moonlight was released. Now
onto the next!

S om eday you may f in d m e

Hi di ng away from th e r ain
T he l oud crashi ng o f th un d er
Rem i nds me of the ho r r en d o us p ain
T he bri ght f l ashes of lig h tn in g
Take m e back to th e d ays
W hen I sat i n th at r o o m
And through the bl ackened win d ow I co uld
barel y see the su ns r ays
I pray som eday these vivi d m em o r ies will f ad e
And the rai n wi l l then wash away th e p ast,
spreadi ng a sm i l e acr o ss my f ace
I wi l l be cl eansed of al l th e un welco m ed ,
undeser vi ng sin s
And I wi l l never have to relive th o se h o r r ib le
moments ag ain .

Indie Affair

Bio: Kris Johnston is a proud

native of Southern California,
a single mom, and a former
hairstylist. She wears many
hats, such as; teacher, chef,
chauffeur, nursemaid, life
coach, cheerleader, therapist,
and storyteller (and those are
just the hats she wears for her
children!).

Page 4

Six questions to know your new, favorite author:

Kris Johnston.
The talented mind behind
Find Me in Heaven and
This Beautiful Curse: A Gothic Fairytale.

She began writing poetry at

the age of 8, and it remains
her first, true love to this
day. Inspired as a teenager by
authors such as Anne Rice,
Stephen King, Edgar Allan
Poe, and Dean Koontz, she
delved heavily into the darker
side of writing until giving
it up for motherhood in her
early 20s. She didnt stray far,
however, as poetry got her
through some of her biggest,
most difficult life experiences
until she was able to return to
writing full time.
Blessed
with
a
new
independence and empowered
outlook, she strives to use her
writing as a voice for women
who may feel like they have
lost their own while exploring
ideas of spirituality, self-love,
and forgiveness.

Indie Af f air Tea m: How m any

stori es do you have roam i ng
a r ound i n your mi nd at once
a nd what do you do to kee p
them al l strai ght?
Kris Johnsto n : At the moment
I have 3 that are pl agui ng me,
someti m es I have had as m any
a s 6 f l oati ng around i n my brai n
a t once. I dont real l y kee p
them strai ght, I si m pl y i gnore
them al l exce pt the one that i s
the l oudest. I fi gure the other
stori es wi l l come back around
la ter i f they sti l l need to be
tol d
IAT:Being a writer is a full-time
job wi th the pay of babysi tti ng
o n the weekends, how do you
m ake i t al l work and drives
you to kee p g oi ng?
KJ : I make i t al l work wi th the
h el p and suppor t of my peopl e.
Wri ti ng real l y does take a
vi l l ag e, as there are m any days
when I g et so caught up i n my
work that I forg et the basi c
thi ngs l i ke eati ng, showeri ng,
etc. I know, i ts so gl am orous
isnt i t? (wi nk-wi nk)... For m e,
I have the drive to do thi s
b ecause i ts what I was bor n

to d o an d I cant im ag in e d o in g
an yth in g else. Its wh at I live f o r.
Sur e, it m ay h ave taken 4 0 + year s
f o r m e to f in ally g et it g o in g ,
b ut I b elieve it was sup p o sed to
h ap p en like th is, in th is tim e, at
th is m o m en t. D estin y, b aby.
I AT: W h at ad v ice wo uld yo u
g ive to so m eo n e wh o wan ts to
p ub lish th eir f ir st b o o k ; wr itin g
tip s/ stylizatio n , ed itin g ,
p r o m o tin g , etc. ?
KJ : An y ad v ice I co uld g ive to
o th er s is r eally n o t g o in g to h elp.
I b elieve we all h ave o ur own
m eth o d s an d styles o f wr itin g ,
tellin g sto r ies, etc. Its an ar t
f o r m , an d th er e is n o b ox th at
can co n tain yo ur ar t. I will say
th is: Wr ite f r o m yo ur so ul, an d
ed it f r o m yo ur g ut. T h ats h ow I
wo r k , an d its wh at suits m e th e
b est.
I AT: On ce yo u ve f in ish ed
wr itin g a n ew b o o k , h ow lo n g
d o es it take to g et b ack in to th e
wr itin g g r o ove an d wh at th in g s
d o yo u use to h elp ?
KJ : I r ely h eav ily o n music to g et
m e b ack in to th e wr itin g g r o ove,
b ut a lo t o f it just d e p en d s o n

Indie Affair

Page 5

my mo o d a n d motivati on and the stor y that wan ts to b e to ld .

W h en I fin ished T hi s Beauti ful Curse, i t was m o n th s b ef o r e I
fin a lly sta r ted a new proj ect, whi ch i s the unr eleased , D ar lin g
Ja n e. H owever, when I fi ni shed Fi nd Me I n H eaven , I b eg an
my cu r ren t WI P two days l ater, because the sto r y id ea was so
ca p tiva tin g for m e that I had to star t g etti ng it d own .
IAT: H avin g such a busy l i fe, between fami ly r esp o n sib ilities,
frien ds, writi ng, soci al medi a, and ever ythi ng else yo u
jug gle, h ow do you kee p such a bal anced h an d as well as
p erso n a lity?
KJ : Its rea ll y easy for me to stress out over all th e th in g s
g o in g o n in my wri ti ng and wi th my soci al m ed ia. I tr uly d o
n o t h ave en ough hours i n each day! T he g oo d th in g , th o ug h ,
is th a t my k i ds are here to rem i nd m e of wh ats im p o r tan t
a n d wh a t ca n wai t. My I nstag ram pag e can wait. M y Twitter
n o tifica tio n s can wai t. Edi ti ng my WI P can wait. M y ch ild r en ,
h owever, ca nnot. So bei ng a si ngl e m om i s g oo d in th at asp ect,
a s it fo rces m e to understand and pri ori ti ze th e th in g s th at
a re tr uly impor tant i n my l i fe.
IAT: If yo u coul d have any super power know an d un k n own ,
wh a t wo uld i t be and what woul d you do with th is p ower ?
KJ : T h ere a re two super powers I d pi ck: T he ab ility to h eal,
wh eth er it b e physi cal or em oti onal pai n. I have a d ee p d esir e to
relieve p eo p l e of what ai l s them, especi al l y wh en th ey ach e in
th eir so uls. T he second one woul d be the power o f inv isib ility
b eca use I real l y enj oy not bei ng seen or noticed at tim es. I
ca n b e ver y uncom for tabl e wi th any ki nd o f atten tio n , even
th o ugh Im constantl y out there tr yi ng to p r o m o te myself.
Perh a p s so ci al medi a has been g ood for me in th at way, as
its fo rcin g me to com e out of my shel l a ti ny b it. But lets b e
h o n est, Im sti l l hi di ng behi nd a screen
B IO : K ris Johnston i s a proud native of S outh er n C alif o r n ia, a
sin gle mo m, and a for mer hai rstyl i st. She wear s m an y h ats, such
a s; tea ch er, chef, chauffeur, nursem ai d, l i fe coach , ch eer lead er,
th era p ist, a nd stor ytel l er (and those are j ust th e h ats sh e wear s
fo r h er ch ildren!). S he beg an wri ti ng poetr y at th e ag e o f 8 ,
a n d it rema i ns her fi rst, tr ue l ove to thi s d ay. In sp ir ed as a
teen a g er by authors such as Anne Ri ce, S te p h en Kin g , Ed g ar
Alla n Po e, a nd D ean Koontz, she del ved heavily in to th e d ar ker
side o f writi ng unti l givi ng i t up for m other h o o d in h er ear ly
20s. Sh e didnt stray far, however, as poetr y g o t h er th r o ug h
so me o f h er bi g g est, most di ffi cul t l i fe exper ien ces un til sh e
wa s a b le to retur n to wri ti ng ful l ti m e. Bl essed with a n ew
in de p en den ce and em powered outl ook, she str ives to use h er
writin g a s a voi ce for wom en who m ay feel like th ey h ave lo st
th eir own whi l e

Indie Affair

Page 6

Tigress
By E.P.

eyv_ening_magic

Bio: A unique eye for

photography and a poetic
soul. Search #eppoetry

Indie Affair

Page 7

The Passenger
By Adri O

ofmusesandastronomers

Bio: Adrianna Osho wrote her

first novel at 10. Now in her
20s, she pines over that vivid
imagination and 5th grade work
ethic. When she isnt pining,
Adrianna writes poetry, short
stories, and screenplays. She
also Googles cats in sweaters.

Youve m ade your d ar k n ess m in e

A rel uctant passeng er o n th is r id e
My l i ght has ceased to sh in e
For our acti ons ar e in ter tw in ed
Your badness is n ow m in e
Ever y bone tha t yo u g r in d
Ever y secret yo u h id e,
Ever y l i e you kee p in sid e
Youve taken root in my b r ain ,
hem or rhagi ng seeds, n o n ovo cain e
Cancerous pai n, i m mun ity sh o t
si ck for d ays
al l my stren g th r o ts
S l ave to yo ur will
m any poi sono us th r ills
you drag m e alo n g
who wi l l si ng my swan so n g ?

By m.r.

petitepoems
Bio: Mallory Rowe is a poet
from Alabama. She is currently
working on her second book of
haiku. Her work centers around
spirituality, the cosmos, and
philosophy.

Tears l i ke fallin g star s-Onl y to be wish ed up o n

By the i n n o cen t

Indie Affair

Page 8

Terror Rising
By A.T.G

just____sayin

Bio: I love writing and playing

with words, their timing and
aesthetics. I love twisting and
squeezing them to see what
they can become. I try to write
in as many different ways as
I can. Mixing horror, comedy,
love and tragedy. I write for
myself mainly, but if just one
other person reads me and
enjoys it, then Im made up. I
also really enjoy reading other
peoples works.

I have to stay still, mum and dad are both dead

And Im curled up hiding under their bed
I can hear snarling and breathing somewhere overhead
And
Im
trying
to
stifle
my
crying
Its stench is like vomit with putrid undertones
I ke e p h e a r i n g i t c r u n ch i n g , a n d I j u s t k n ow t h a t i t s b o n e s
I can feel my heart beating over its groans
And Im gagging to scream but denying
I can see my young brother as I look at the door
H e s f r o z e n w i t h f e a r a s t h i s t h i n g g i v e s a r o a r
Im willing him hard to lie down on the floor
A n d h e l o o k s s o c o n f u s e d , b u t h e s n o t c r y i n g
I smell a war m putrid breeze as a face levels mine
O p e n i n g m y e y e s , a n d I s i n k , i t s m y t i m e
Drug out by the hair while dislocating my spine
The
last
thing
I
hear
is
me
dying
T h a t s m y s i s t e r h i d i n g , s h e s s c a r e d a n d r i g h t t h e r e
She whispers something, but I dont really care
Ive commanded my monster to drag her out by her hair,
A n d a s i t e a t s h e r t h e f e e l i n g s e l e c t r i f y i n g
Their mistake was in thinking I was their innocent child
But the truth is that boy has been dead for awhile
I k i l l e d h i m i n way yo u d c o n s i d e r m o s t v i l e,
And I was left covered in his blood, solidifying
So when you tuck in your children and you kiss them
g o o d n i g h t a n d t h e y t e l l y o u t h e r e s s o m e t h i n g u n d e r t h e
b e d , t h e y r e r i g h t ; w e j u s t f a d e o u t o f v i e w w h e n y o u t u r n
o n t h e l i g h t , b u t w e a r e t h e r e , a n d w e r e t r u l y t e r r i f y i n g

Indie Affair

Page 9

mmmmmra

Bio: My name is Mara, a Moon

Child Filipina, who started writing
- silly love poems - in high school.
And for a long time, I thought
writing was my medium to
getaway, but when I found myself
floating aimlessly in the realm of
AI and slowly becoming a tech
slave, there I truly realized that
writing is not just my escape.
Writing is actually my comfort
zone. So I abandoned my day job
and journeyed back home.

Pieces of Longing
By Mara

I long for the sun;

Its rays to melt the ice that
Has frozen my hear t.
* * *
I long for the rain
To wash away the sullen
Chord in my bosom.
* * *
I long for stars
To daze my eyes with bright glow;
Help blink back the tears.
* * *
I long for the wind
To car r y my thoughts and lift
My spirit up.
* * *
Pieces of longing,
Embedded in my soul and
Etched in my being.

Indie Affair

Ed Ragtnava Free Artist and

Photographer
Bio: Ed Ragtnava is a recording
artist,
free
artist
and
photographer who also prints
an extremely obscure free
underground
documentary
zine that features interviews
with some of the very best
in independent music from
around the world today. He
currently releases rare free
recordings
mostly
under
different
project names
such as Indian Pipes, Psychic
Paintings, and Kosmische

Page 10

Oasis
By Ed Ragtnava

Indie Affair

Page 11

T hank You, Jesus

By B_yoUnique

b_younique_tm

Bio: My name is Billiza

Unique Johnson; I am a child
of God! I am from Southeast
Arkansas, the Mallard duck
capital of the world. I am a
19-year-old college student
trying to make a difference
with every encounter I have
with others, whether its
through music, poetry, dance
or my photography. I am
majoring in photojournalism
and minoring in business,
hoping to later have my own

Wake up and take up my cr o ss

Al l the thi ngs I will g ain an d
the thi ngs that have b een a lo ss
Dressed i n whi te to seem so p ur e
Chri st Jesus is my cur e
From my si n f ul ways
I thank you, G od, f o r all th e d ays
I refused to p r ay
We al l m ake m istakes
We al l have a poi nt wh er e we b r eak ,
and at that ti m e, ther es o n ly so much
m ore we can take
We are saved by g r ace
because of Hi s l ove, one d ay I will see H is f ace
But unti l then, I wi l l con tinue with th is r ace
Probabl y, need to ste p up my p ace
Someti m es l i fe seem s like a waste
But i ts not - dont live in h aste;
r ushi ng ever y day wont make yo ur p ain g o away
Let al one stop i t f r o m h ap p en in g.
Livi ng i n a daze i s n o t h ow we ar e
meant to spend o ur d ays,
Li fe i s not a g ame we can just p lay.
Centered aroun d On e N am e
that I wi l l for ever p r o claim ,
the one who saved m e f r o m Satan ,
that l i l punk had m e waitin g
to g et my l i fe tog ether to co m e to Jesus
l i ke I m not wor thy o f my f ilth in ess.
He l oves m e an yway,
Even though my l yi ng, lustin g , an d ad ulter y
put Hi m on the cross to suf f er p hysically;
the stor y i s over Satan said
Nah, Br uh, i ts just a b uf f er.
I t i s fi ni shed were Jesus last wo r d s o n th e cr o ss
S atan then experi enced a g r eat lo ss,
death defeated on th e th ir d d ay.
Oh, what a hor rendous d eb t H e h ad to p ay,
but now I can p r o ud ly say,
T hank you, Jesus, j u st as I am , I co m e.
Hal l el uj ah, oh wha t am azin g love.

Indie Affair

Page 12

Autumnal Bliss
By Precious Oboh

presh_thypoetjw

Bio: Precious Oboh is a

creative and passionate writer
of all genre of poetry. He has
works forthcoming in other
avenues, including Frameless
Sky, The Mamba Journal,
and Undertow Tanka Review.
Hes has both Bachelors and
Masters Degrees in History
from Ambrose Alli University
and University of Benin,
Nigeria, respectively.

T he l eaves r ustl e an d cr ack le

Under neath our feet as we g ait
Al ong thi s path of aur o r a g low
T he cri spy sm el l of autum n .
T he ai r i s cl ean an d p lush ;
autum n orchestrated ar ia o f b ir d s
g ai ety g race our p r esen ce
T hat g aze i n yo ur eyes
S ends m e dri fti ng i n th e azur e sk y.
T he fal l en l eaves ar e
Bri l l i antl y au r o us,
But they are not as b eautif ul
As you are when yo u b eam
wi th that radi ance o f an An g el.

Literary Days of Note:

June 24th, 1842 was the bi r th o f Am b r o se Bier ce. H e was
o ne of the g reat j our nal i sts and sh o r t sto r y wr iter s o f th e
19th centur y Am eri can west. Estab lish in g h is r e p utatio n with
the novel s A Fi ends Del i ght an d C o bweb s Fr o m an Em p ty
Skul l becom i ng the countri es most f am o us wr iter. Fr o m 1 8 8 7
to 1908 he worked off and on for th e San Fr an cisco Ex am in er,
p ubl i shi ng col l ecti ons of stori es : In th e M id st o f L if e an d
C an Such T hi ngs Be? Hi s most fam o us wo r k is a co llectio n o f
sati ri c defi ni ti ons, T he D evi l s D ictio n ar y (f ir st p ub lish ed as
T he Cyni cs Word Book i n 1906). In 1 9 1 3 h e set o ut f o r M ex ico
a nd was never seen ag ai n.
June 30th, 1911 was the bi r th of C zeslaw M ilo sz, wh o r an k s
a mong the most respected fi gures in twen tieth -cen tur y Po lish
literature, as wel l as one of the m o st r esp ected co n tem p o r ar y
p oets i n the worl d: he was awarded th e N o b el Pr ize f o r L iter atur e
in 1980.
Among some of the i ncredi bl e boo k s an d p o etr y h e h as wr itten :
N ative Real m, To Begi n W here I a m , T h e C ap tive M in d , A Bo o k
o f Lumi nous T hi ngs.
Jul y 4th, 1832 Lewi s Car rol begi n s wr itin g Alice in Wo n d er lan d
a nd fi nal l y publ i shed i n 1865 th en its sequel, T h r o ug h th e
L ooki ng Gl ass i n 1871. Lewi s Car r o ll was th e ch ur ch d eaco n an d
m athem ati ci an who wrote the fam o us f an tasy b o o k s. Or ig in ally
conceived as nurser y tal es for the d aug h ter o f f am ily f r ien d s,
they qui ckl y became cl assi cs of ch ild r ens liter atur e. L ewis
C ar rol l al so wrote l i ght verse, i nclud in g T h e H un tin g o f th e
Snark.

Indie Affair

Page 13

By Andrea Brammer

andrea.brammer.3

Bio: Illustrator with Life After

Death Publicationz. I grew
up in Iowa with 2 sisters, my
mom and dad. I love cats. I
was able to multiply small
numbers when I was only 4
years old and I found a love for
numbers when I was in high
school. I have pursued the
dream of crunching them for
most of my adult life. I also
spent many hours relieving
stress and the trials of being
a teen with my art. To date I
have illustrated one childrens
book called Toby Goes to
the Beach by Diamond. As
the new mom of a year old
baby girl, I enjoy drawing,
illustrating, and reading in the
little bit of spare time I can
find in my busy day. I work as
a CNA, and also help with my
mothers publishing company.

Indie Affair

Page 14

Joan McNerney

Bio:
Joan
McNerneys
poetry has been included in
numerous literary zines such
as Camel Saloon, Seven Circle
Press, Dinner with the Muse,
Blueline, Missing of the Birds,
and included in Bright Hills
Press, Kind of A Hurricane
Press and Poppy Road Review
anthologies. She has been
nominated three times for
Best of the Net.

Methuselah Speaks
By Joan McNerney

Livi ng i n shadows, I scar cely stir.

Each m oti on bri ngs p ain with f ear
of fal l i ng, breaki ng b r ittle b o n es
or br ui si ng my spi d er web sk in .
I see so l i ttl e. Sunl i gh t b lin d s my
rheumy eyes. Ni ght d im s my wo r ld
l eavi ng j ust vague o utlin es.
Food i s stal e, bi tter. T h ir st savag e.
No l i qui ds quench m e. M y b o d ily
functi ons often fai l , b ef o ulin g m e.
Al l these years wei gh d own my so ul.
Heari ng faded ever ythin g in wh isp er s.
My breath i s raspy, with o ut str en g th .
My m i nd dul l wi th defeat. I co un t o n ly
my l osses and rememb er n o th in g
but the dead. My mem o r y is p ain .
I cannot cel ebrate bir th s. M y g r eat
g randchi l dren di ed so lo n g ag o.
W hy must I al ways wait h er e?
G od, have you for g o tten m e?

Indie Affair

Page 15

Savor The Darkness

By Steve Evans

Bio: My poems cover everyday

issues that we all deal with,
I write of pain and loss, of
yearning and needing and of
heartbreak and confusion.
When I write, I want the reader
to be able to lose themselves
in the story. I want them to
see themselves in each word
and to be able to relate.
I tend to go a little more to
the darker side of life and love
simply because I find it more
interesting and easier to hold
my attention and hopefully
the readers as well.

Seduced by the shadows lustin g f o r my love

Possessed by l i es, knowi ng th e secr ets in th e b lo o d
A fog i nvades my hear t tur n in g it to sto n e
I savor the darkness kn owin g I am alo n e
T he l i ght i s forced for ever f r o m my so ul
A fal l en ang el never to b e welco m ed h o m e
I becom e an unhol y spawn d esig n ed to k ill
S teal i ng your i nnocence and r o b b in g yo ur f r ee will
I feed on your fear and d elig h t in yo ur so r r ow
Kneel before m e; your fa ith is weak an d h o llow
Li ke the l am b l ed to sl aughter yo u just b lin d ly f o llow
Purg ator y i s your reward for b eliev in g in to m o r r ow
Your si ns wi l l be why th e H eaven s f ell
And I l l be wai ti ng to d r ag yo u all to H ell
A fal l en ang el never to b e welco m ed h o m e
I savor the darkness kn owin g I am alo n e
An excer pt from my upcom i ng bo o k , Wee p in g W illow:
I was l eft stari ng i nto those sam e co ld d ead eyes th at h ad
vi si ted m e so m any ti m es befor e in my d r eam s. I was waitin g
for her shar p tongue to cut i nto my f lesh with accusatio n s o f
b roken promi ses and her advocatin g th at my sp ir it b e f o r ever
damned, but they never came. In stead , h er wo r d s wer e calm ,
a lmost soothi ng, as she spoke with o ut m ovem en t.
For centuri es, I have suffered alo n e. M y h atr ed , g iv in g m e lif e
b eyond death. My death, whi ch fuels my r ag e, was un war r an ted .
I searched for a soul that was si m ilar to m in e, b eliev in g it to
b e nonexi stent, then, from the dar k n ess I h ear d yo ur an g uish ,
tasted your tears, and fel t your h ear tb r eak . Yo ur so r r ow, so
sweet, captivated me. I t was a temp tatio n even I co uld nt r esist.
So I searched you out, across the b ig em p ty h eaven s, tr avelin g
through space and ti me to fi nd yo u. We ar e k in d r ed sp ir its
b rought tog ether by death, our so uls b o un d by so r r ow, an d
where onl y one once dwel l ed two h ear ts sh all b eco m e th e sam e.
Wi th that, she g entl y l ai d her h an d o n my ch est, clo sed h er
eyes, and after a few m om ents, sh e said
I pl ace upon your soul my mar k , a m ar k th at can n eith er
b e seen nor washed away. You m ay n o t r em em b er, to d ay o r
tom or row, but someday you wi l l co m e to un d er stan d its f ull
ram i fi cati ons and on that day I will r etur n f o r yo u. Fo r n ow,
you need your rest.
T hen she whi spered Sl ee p, sl ee p . . . slee p.

Indie Affair

Page 16

My Book of Poetry
By NaaZ

Midnight__Mist

Bio: This is one of the many

writings Ive done so. For more
check out my blog page at
www.ice-princezz.blogspot.
com

And ever y second sl owed to a stan d still,

As you tur ned away f o r th e last tim e.
T he rai n drops sti l l ed to a p ain f ul d r ag ,
T he breath l eft m e swif tly to d ie.
T hat ni ght I opened th e f ir st b lan k p ag e,
To sm ear my i nfin ity o f tear s,
Sl ash the em pti ness with th e in k o f p ain ,
Pai nt the words ever y so ul f ear s.
Ever y poetr y cri ed in r em o r se,
Your betrayal screamed in g o th ic co lo r s,
Yet I found my pea ce in th is wo r ld ,
As pag e after pag e sewed my b r o ken h ear t f o r an o th er.

A King like a Lion

By Shanissi

shanissi_says

Bio: Shanissi is twenty years

old. He was born and raised
in Germany then moved
to Ireland and has some
Congolese
blood
running
through hi, he is a wordsmith
and knows how to evoke
some of the most abandoned
feelings relating to relatable
situations. He started writing
at 18 as a coping mechanism.
Just like most of us, he almost
lost himself in the darkest
corners of his mind. Those
that he wouldnt let anyone
else enter. Now, hes not only
writing for himself but, for
you guys too.

T he questi ons that ari se l i ke tur m o il in my m in d ever y d ay. . .

How can I crown my queen ,
I f I dont acce pt my lin eag e?
A ki ng that tal ks with co n f id en ce
and stands with p r id e,
A ki ng l i ke a lio n
(Peopl e l i ke f l i es scatter at h is r o ar )
A ki ng that i snt l ab eled as a f r aud ,
A ki ng that i s perceived as m or e th an h e acce p ts h im self to
be
(Powerful and b r o ad ).
I t took me ti me to f ig ur e o ut,
I had i deas about how to g et ther e, b ut n ow, th ey just seem to
cross them selves o ut.
I tri ed to be ever ythi ng a wo m an wo uld wan t,
T he man I sh o uld b e,
but I al ways ended up m issin g th e tr ue m e.
S o I star ted to b e myself.
One cannot becom e a ki ng an d g uid e h is queen ,
I f cannot r ule h im self.
S o now I say:
I am, a k in g ,
because I know I ca n g over n myself.

Indie Affair

Page 13

Poetry gave me a voice when I

was too shy to express myself
around others. Ive been writing
since I could bury myself in
the adventure of reading. As
a mother of three, a full time
teacher, with a supportive
and loving husband, I feel that
the written word and creative
expression feeds the soul.
www.wattpad.com/user/
CDougherty83

A Few Enticing Words To

Stimulate Contemplation:
Syzygy: (n) an alignment of celestial bodies.
Vellichor: (n) the strange wistfullness of
used bookstores.
Cromulent: (n) appearing legitimate, but
actually being spurious.
Sonder: (n) the realization that each passerby
has a life as vivid and complex as your own.

Indie Affair

Page 18

Once Upon A Time

By Katie Ness

katiesunflowerteeth

Bio: Katie Ness is an artist

with a B.A in Fine Art, a tribal
fusion belly dancer, and poet.
She is a contributing writer
for Yogi Approved and Bad
Yogi and has work featured
on Elephant Journal and Eat.
Breathe.Thrive. Katie is also a
Kids yoga & dance tutor and
is currently working on her
first illustrated poetry book.
Katie@sunflowerteeth.com
My lifestyle blog: http://blog.
sunflowerteeth.com

Once upon a tim e

I fel l i n l ove wi th a wi l d h o r se o n th e m o o n
I swal l owed ever y lustf ul wo r d ,
And i t scorched me like th e sun .
T he thi ck, hot deser t fell o ut o f its m o uth .
Maski ng the sand as r av ish in g d iam o n d s
And I drank i t al l up l i ke a r aven o us an im al,
S tar ved of bread an d m ilk ,
Squeezed from a h ear t sto n e.
I tasted g ri t between my teeth ,
A pal e rai n for med my tear s.
And ash fel l from the star s in th e d usk y sk y.
He tol d me I was b ewitch in g ,
And he tol d me in such a way,
T hat I bel i eved h im .
W hat a bi tter and b r utal th in g ?
Ours was a wrecki ng k in d o f love,
Broken open by the f l i gh t o f h um m in g b ir d s.

T he Sk y Of My Body
Your hands l i ke rai n pour i n to th e sk y o f my b o d y,
T he war m est taste o f yo ur to n g ue,
T he soft sea of yo ur salt,
T he secrets of your sto ic h ear t,
T he wi l d pl um of yo ur b lo o d ,
And I am wri thi ng l i ke a kes tr el alo f t wistf ul water s.
Your ar m s l i ke pi nes reach up to th e h eaven s o f my so ul,
T he feral frag rance o f yo ur sk in ,
T he private del i ght i n yo ur m o o n lit eyes,
T he pri mordi al sun in yo ur b o n es,
T he undressi ng of my th r o b b in g h ear t,
And I am unravel i ng i nto a th o usan d sen sual star s.

Indie Affair

Page 19

Candic e
By Sara Wilson

saracwilsonart

Bio: : Sara Wilson is a painter

living and working in Victoria,
BC Canada. Oil paint is her
most beloved medium but she
also enjoys pen and ink when
she is feeling a little less
serious. www.etsy.com/shop/
sarawilsonart
Facebook.com/sarawilsonart

My i nspi rati on i s drawn f r o m th e f em ale

fi gure. I pai nt women i n p o ses th at sh owcase
the beauty and strength of th e f em ale f o r m . I
l i ke to pl ay wi th vi brant vs sub tle co lo ur an d
l i ghti ng to enhance each p iece.

Oil on Claybord

Indie Affair

Page 20

Or so
by Masha

wanderfeedsmysoul

Bio: My name is Masha, I am a

book junkie and a cat lover. I
am currently putting my first
poetry book together while
working and living in Milan.
Website:
www.wanderfeedsmysoul.com

Hi s eyes have pi er ced m e

Down on my knees I was
I thought I l l pl ay alo n g
Si nce He has ceased me with H is jaws
I thought the r ul es wer e clear
I thought the g am e was j oy an d p assio n
I thought my vi ctor y was n ear
I thought Hi s ki l l i ng is o n ly tr ue
W hen dang er mur murs in to H is ear
He bi t me once, but I was b r ave
I tam ed the creatures of His like b ef o r e
He wounded me ag ain to my
bewi l der ment
I was pati en t
I wont give up, I swo r e
I have g rown desperate with tim e
My achi ng cuts wer e o p en
I n ag ony, I strived for H e was m in e
Wi th al l Hi s pai n and wo r d s un sp o ken
Unwanted I fol l owed H im ar o un d
Consum ed wi th Hi s salvatio n
He i s not a monster.
I thought dee p d own
Hi s cr uel ty I l l co n quer
Fearl ess, I hel d my g r o un d
For Hi m , I wal ked throug h th o r n s
He roared: at l ast, my sweeth ear t!
S cowl i ng, He ran i nto my ar m s
To ri p my chest ap ar t
Bl eedi ng
I fel l i nto hi s claws
I am not your p r ey.
I spoke
He whi spered: But I h ave wo n .

Indie Affair

Page 21

Snow Valley, Utah

by Angela

angela7022

Bio: My name is Angela. I live

in Austin, Texas. I am a mom of
2 and a wife of 1. My passion
is writing and photography. I
hope you enjoy my work.

Indie Affair

Page 22

Grass Is Always Greener...

By Evander F.

devouring_maw

Bio: A writer striving for

greatness, while assisting
those closest to me in their
own creative ventures, I
am the shadowy fiend that
clings to sadness and despair,
wriggling my tendrils over
gaping wounds, to pull out
bloody red gems that twinkle
in the moonlight. I hope that
these pieces will be able to
touch your mind, your heart,
and your soul, as they pass on
through yours. Enjoy.
~The Devourer Of Darkness

La tchi ng onto a s in g l e th o u g h t,
W hen wa s the l a s t ti me you l o o ked a r o u n d to s ee
ever ythi ng you once h a d i s n ow g o n e,
T he ones you fou ght a nd whove f o u g h t f o r yo u a r e n ow a l l
g one,
A nd i ts a mi r a cl e tha t they h el d o n f o r s o l o n g ,
Cons i d er i ng how you r obs es s i on s h ave h a d yo u i n th e d a r k ,
Pu s hi ng away the ones who s in cer e l y o f f er ed yo u th ei r
thou ghts a nd af f ecti o n s,
T hei r ca r es f or you have tu r n ed to d u s t,
A l l tha nks to the u nwaver i ng cu r ta i n yo u ve envel o p ed
you r s el f i n ,
S ha ki ng of f thei r tr u s t whi l e th o s e f ever ed eyes s tayed
l ocked d ea d cen ter,
For you , ther e wa s nothi ng el s e b u t th a t o n e g o a l i n yo u r
hea r t,
No cha nces to s tr ay a nd s ee th e o th er p o s s i b i l i ti es,
A nd now tha t you ve g o t wh a t yo u wa n ted ,
I have to a s k a r e you ha pp y wi t h yo u r ch o i ces ?
T hes e wor d s wont r ea ch yo u r ea r s, th o u g h ,
B eca u s e i n tr u th, I havent s een yo u f o r yea r s,
A nd I know tha t r ea chi ng ou t to p u t away my d o u b t,
To a s k i f you a r e s a ti s f i ed wi th wh a t yo u ve g o t a n d wh a t
you ve been wi th o u t,
Wou l d onl y tea r open thes e old s ca r s a n d l eave m e i n a n
ocea n of bl ood a n d tea r s.

Indie Affair

Page 23

W hen You T hink of T hem

By Emma C.

e.c.poetry_

Bio: Emma, a student and

poet, spends most of her
spare time exploring the
therapeutic qualities which
poetry provides. She has been
writing creatively ever since
she could read and one day
wishes to have a novel with
her name on it

I am si tti ng i n a l i brar y, a pl ace I wo uld nt b e, if eig h t year s

ag o, our body wasnt shot by fate, lef t to b leed o ut o n th e
f l oor boards that were al ready th e sh ad e o f f r esh b lo o d .
I t sti l l fr ustrates you that your m o th er still g ets d own o n
hands and knees tri es to scrape away r eg r et as if it wer e
som ethi ng that coul d be bl eache d an d f o r g o tten ab o ut.
But when the bl each settl es i n the cr ack s o f th e f lo o r b o ar d s
they creak and crack, they wi nce an d cr y as th e b leach settles
into thei r wounds, thei r vei ns, th eir b lo o d str eam b ecause
it hur ts when you tr y to fade away so m eth in g like th at. I
thi nk ei ght years have al l owed m e to m aster th e sk ill o f
inhal i ng fr ustrati on and exhal i ng excuses to tell th em th at I
am compl etel y fi ne wi th i t that I am en tir ely f in e with n o t
breathi ng the sam e ai r as them . W h at I was m ean t to say
was that I am total l y not fi ne with n o lo n g er b r eath in g th e
sam e, but I di dnt have the energ y; I d id nt h ave th e b r eath .
I mi ss the way I coul d be so o b liv io us to th e f laws in
ever ythi ng, and I m i ss the way I used to twir l a d aisy
between my fi ng ers - but I guess th e r eal r easo n why I m
teari ng up i nto a puddl e, i s because a d r ied up d aisy just
fel l from the pocket of a passer-byer, o n ly to b e tr o d d en
on the sam e way I remember my so ul d id . All tan g led vein s
like i nter twi ned tel e phone chords all cr acked ver teb r ae like
shattered porcel ai n, and I guess th ats why I can n o lo n g er
breathe.
Fi nal l y, I have l ear ned that I should nt take ever y b r eath f o r
g ranted ever y breath that coul d tur n in to a b r eath tak in g ,
pai nstaki ng, throat-restri cti ng d eath sen ten ce b ecause o f
one day. Fate coul d escape i ts ca g e co m e r un n in g d own th e
footpath wi th a dag g er made fr o m th e b o n es o f o ur own
body.

Indie Affair

Page 24

H igh Defin itio n

by Devon West

Devon West

Bio: My name is Devon West.

I am the author of The Wild
Type. My work is a collection
of every person and experience
Ive had; of endless hours
writing. My subjects are very
present, close. The reader is
invited to join and partake in
the interpretation.
The Wild Type available now on
Amazon http://www.amazon.
com/dp/B010150E00
Amazon http://www.amazon.
com/dp/B010150E00
present, close. The reader is
invited to join and partake in
the interpretation.
The Wild Type available now on
Amazon http://www.amazon.
com/dp/B010150E00

I s par t of a study reg ardi ng the co n tr ad ictio n b etween overshari ng and censor i ng (speech , o p in io n s, nud ity th at is n o t
por nog raphy) that occurs i n ever yd ay lif e b ut
more so, exposed through th e m ed ia; wh ich by b ein g
broadcasted i nterferes wi th i ndiv id ual o p in io n by b eco m in g
mass opi ni on and a r ul e. I t i s an o b ser vatio n to th e
way a maj ori ty are i nteracti ng, b en eath an inv isib le b ut ver y
pal pabl e pressure for so-cal l ed auth en ticity am id st th e m o b
mental i ty that few have the cou r ag e to se p ar ate th em selves
from . Leani ng on the si de of satir e; it p o ses th e questio n
of bei ng spent by ever yone but o ur selves.

Indie Affair

Page 25

T he Skin
By Frank C.

speakinginreflections

Bio: A traveler, a writer,

beer
consumer,
baseball
card
collecting,
music
loving, cinema addict with a
predilection for pin-ups and
staying up to see the sun
rise. A musical nomad who
has a fondness for foreign
chanteuses, and hard driving
desert rock...with a mix of old
school hip hop and hyper ska.
I host a radio show on KAOS
89.3 FM from Olympia,
Washington. Im a single dad
raising a 9-year-old daughter
in this world. Just writing
words and living inside the
moments.

Porcelain sun kissed

Knowing ever y inch
Eyes drawn shut
Dreams of fing er tips
Kiss fer vently
Sweat abounds
Loss of time
Inside moments
Inside lifetimes
Memories emblazoned
Across broken hear ts
Moments bur ned
Onto hear ts mosaic
Forever inside
Always one
Forever apar t
Always alone
Mor ning sunshines
Two bodies naked
Souls connected
T hrough sweat and kisses
Skin so magic
Goosebumps each time
Little left for air
Lungs filled tight
Hands like explorers
Eyes like maps
Continue on
Shores foreign

Indie Affair

PaPage 26

T he Secr et W hisper s o f Tulips

By John S LES

T he whispers of tulips caught on a pre-dawn

mor ning. W hile we are still slee ping, or are at war,
or lost on our own paths, life around us - the force
of Mother Ear th still does g o on.

NYEastsideEntertainment

Bio: John S LES (pseudonym). 51m. Born and raised on the

Lower East Side of, NYC. Formal education in New York
and New England. Informal education on the streets of
NYC. Currently works in the law enforcement community
(hence the pseudonym). Blogger, photographer, writer.
My main goal to create projects to positively assist
people to engage with one another.in this world. Just
writing words and living inside the moments.

Indie Affair

Page 27ge

By Echo Haywood

Writing_Echo

Bio: Well, Im a 18 year old

high school student. For my
writing, I prefer to go by Echo
Haywood

Sometimes I wish I could hate you,

Or I wish I could at least stay mad at you.
You ignored me, you hur t me, and you broke me.
T hen you seemed to completely
vanish from my life without a word.
I was left confused, hur t, and broken.
But I told myself to forg et you,
To move on, to be strong er.
And just when I thought I was star ting to succeed
in forg etting you.
You suddenly showed up on the scene ag ain.
And with you I completely
forg et how you hur t me,
(No, you did mor e than that,)
how you completely broke me!
And yet, I couldnt be ang r y.
I just made excuses for you in my mind,
And forg ave you without you even saying sor r y.
Ive done that too many times before
Now youre g one ag ain,
Im not sure for how long.
And suddenly I remember that
Im supposed to be mad at you.
Oh, why cant I just hate you?
You have no right to waltz into my life ag ain,
And dance away with my hear t, (pathetic and weak
as it may be.)
You have no right to play with
my feelings and emotions.
And yet, how can I blame you?
I should be blaming me.
Cuz I never stood up for myself.
Yes, you never should have hur t me.
But more impor tantly, I never should have let you.
I know better, and yet...
I still can never stay mad at you
I can never seem to stand up for me.
I always just forgive you, and love you,
T hen you hur t and break me
And the cycle re peats itself ag ain.

Indie Affair

Page 28

Twin So ul Col o r s
By Amy Johnson

amy.johnson.poetry
Bio: Amy Johnson lives in
Chicago. After securing her
first publishing contract in
2014, they released her debut
book of poetry in November of
2015. She achieved bestseller
accreditation on Amazon,
and her book is available
worldwide
with
200+
retailers. She is currently
negotiating terms with new
publisher Promenade Press
for a 2017 new release. Amy
also became a contributing
writer for lifestyle blog Thirty
on Tap for a column each issue
plus an astral feature of full
moon, planetary, and energy
details, tips, and suggestions.
(IG
http://instagram.
com/thirtyontap and web
https://30ontap.com ) Amy
has also written for numerous
literary journals, blogs, and
webpages.
Amys FB Writing pagew w w . f a c e b o o k .
com/Amy-JohnsonPoetry-160412394299362/

T he colors- I dont want to look away, blinking is too

long to be away when staring at the sunset. Almost
painful how it is far too f leeting always moving and
leaving me here when its fully g one. Even when g one,
the imag e that lay g ently in my mind is still timeless
as the universe itself.
T hey dance in this imag e, free and amazing I swear
these colors, the radiance of them, they are curiously
painted by all the free souls themselves, splashing
colors about scur r ying through the sk y. I picture them
almost in a frenzy for one final moment, as they bounce
to the stars before their next jour ney into this body
of restraint.
Its as if the soul explodes free with all passion and
light of being limitless. So radiant that ever ything
in the sk y ref lects the ultimate knowledg e mixed in
perfection in a f lash of the freedom that touches
the sk y is on display for all of us to see their final
viewing. T hat is a playg round for souls for an infinite
moment.
Sometimes I wonder, how does something so dense,
so abundant and vast and yet so light and transient,
weightless such as vapors of the sk y make sense. T he
sk y sits as if on duty to perfor m in such ways as a
tease reminding us that we will always be car r ying so
much even when convinced to be so free and limitless.
W hen I have a day where I dream a little dream of

Indie Affair

Page 29

being that sk y of sparkle, and the world seems too hard. T his
is when I find my sister who pointed me to my soul. She is
always there, we sit on the g rass with this sk y of temporar y
delight, we speak softly and with pur pose of being there in
the stars.
We are this universe and hold it all in our eyes. T he stars are
us, and we watch as we feel it is us that we g et to obser ve.
We are the twinkling star that seems to dance with wonder.
We are the tip of the red on the most magical of sunsets
when the colors almost dare you to dream a big g er dream
that night.
T he har mony of being one with the universe. T hat twinkling
star- that will explode soon, for thats why it twinkles, and
its not the death of a star, its the brilliant and awe captured
bir th of a new set of souls set for th She destiny, for I cannot
help but be breathless at the thought of it.
Set for th on the timeless jour ney, with that feeling within
of a sadness of strife. Only to know that there is a pur pose
and a drive to find the other par ts of them. For the souls
know. T hey dance in the rainbows, and they twinkle in the
stardust of their incredible jour ney of soul friends dancing
and twirling and f loating on the tips of their toes in the
street while the sunsets in the backg round. Swing from the
moon and dash through the sunset, free.
T hat is the only way to describe the wonder and gift of friends
of the soul in human for m. For the body and thoughts do
not do justice to the miracle of this. Radiant colors of the
sunset, in one moments look the spirited, fierce, nomadic
stor y of a lifetime being a war rior seeking home in the
visionaries soul.

Indie Affair

Page 30

T he Ma gic al We l l
by Labeeda Farid

labeeda.the.artist
Bio: A 22-year-old with a
passion for art and writing,
which
gives
me
such
satisfaction.

I only had two things in this world. One was a small well and
the other a silver coin that my father g ave me when he was
alive. I worked hard ever y day and ear ned little money to
meet my daily needs. One day while I was drawing water from
the well to drink, the silver coin slipped from my pocket and
fell into the well, hear tbroken for the coin was the only thing
I had left of my father. Decided to g o to the well in search
for the coin. I secured the rope tightly around my belly and
star ted descending in the well.
T here was darkness in there, but I ke pt g oing for I was
deter mined to find the coin. I suddenly saw light at the bottom
of the well. I was so sur prised and at that moment, the rope
broke. I shrieked and fell in the water. I str ug gled in water
then came to the surface. W hat I saw next sur prised me to
my extreme. T here was another world under the well. It was
way more beautiful than the world above. I saw a fair y at
some distance who was looking at me with wide eyes. I could
not believe my eyes. It was the land of fairies and the fair y
standing in front of me was the most beautiful thing I had
ever laid eyes upon.
Wow, Daddy, who was she?
She was your mother said the king of fair yland with a
smile.

Indie Affair

Page 31

Age Old Questio n

By (am.i)

_am.i_
Bio: Having always written
under a pen name, this writer
is as anonymous as they
get. Not out to seek fame or
appreciation, all she wishes
is that her words will inspire
someone to be better, to feel
better, to do better.
Perhaps one day youll see her
book hidden between others
on a library shelf near you.
Funny, because youll never
even know its hers.

This house was built in the 1930s,

during the pre-war housing
boom. A period of aff luence
where the rich g ot richer and the
poor suffered. My house it was
ma de for old money. I imagine
who lived here sometimes,
right before I g o to slee p. An
imag e conjures in my mind of a
woman: the soft planes of her
face, her soft brown eyes, her
soft lips. Would she have been
fashionable? Did she care that
times were changing? Did she
opt to par ticipate in the new
trends, the long slim dresses
with hems just below the knee
and the padded shoulders? Did
she wear a belt around her
waist?
W hat did she care about?
I looked into her. T he detective
in me couldnt resist rearing
her head when she heard my
curious question: whose house
were we living in?
We found she was indeed a
woman, she did care about
fashion, and she cer tainly was
old money. She was rather
popular in the society, wellres pected by those who didnt
res pect others. We dug a little
dee per, our curiosity peaked,
and found her diar y in the local
archives. More than anything,
it consisted of complaints of
her husband.
We reached the par t where
she revealed how much she
disliked her activist husband,
how she resented that he
was so interested in the
African-American civil rights
movement, how she g r udg ed
over his communications with

the NAACP. T here was much

she didnt like about him, but
mostly, she hated his inclination
towards the working class.She
herself didnt care much for
the lower classes, believing
they were hopeless, inclined
to rob the rich. How strang e
that a capitalist should mar r y
a communist.
After lear ning of her, I beg an
to think what would she think
of me residing in her home?
Would she hate me? W hat would
her husband think? (Ill admit,
I had somewhat of a strang e
admiration for her now-dead
husband.)
I wonder if maybe thats why
Ive never been at peace in this
house. Maybe the reason why I
felt an inter nal tug since first
shifting here is because the
building I reside in is built on
the foundations of a str ug gle
that has r uined inter national
relationships and taken millions
of lives. If America and Russia,
if Europe, cr umbled under the
political brawl, what am I in
comparison?
W hats a poor hear t, my poor
hear t, supposed to do in the
midst of it? I dont have the
ar mies they had, the weapons
they had, the morale they had.
All I have is the red walls of my
hear t that will never understand
wars.
And we all know how easily
walls are taken down

Indie Affair

Page 32

Day Te r r o r s
By CarouselMusings

carousel.musings
Bio: Simply trying to capture
the world around me with
hopes it will resonate in
others.

Livi ng i n denial f uels th e

devi l s f ir e
W here i s your d esir e to leave
the m ir e?
Another day g o n e away.
Do you real l y wan t to stay?
T he ter ror. T h e h o r r o r.
Another day mad e h o llow.
Set your soul o n f ir e.
Ar t. Musi c. Wo r d s.
Dont l et thes e d ay ter r o r s
fuel the d ar k .

T he Faul t
By Peter C.

retrievements
Bio: Peters poetry is usually
an effort to give vision to the
several voices that bubble to
the surface of his mind with a
few intriguing phrases, or to
give voice to the visions that
interrupt his daily routine.
His latest poems are sounds
and sights hes found himself
transcribing from his dreams
as he awakens from them.

As copse takes l eaf of r o b ins r uby b r eath

and g reen uproots g ray p an g s o f f r o st (n ig h ts
gl oo m
g rown thi ck wi th fog g y g r o an s) in g o ld th is b less
of steel from som e cor n er o f th e sun b lo o m s
remembrancers of co ld d e p ar ted , n ow
enthroned i n Apri l s o ak , o r h ow in f all
from l oams that fur row with th e h ail-r akes, b o ug h s
take bl ush i n cri m son s k ies th at p ull th e p all
from summers pal e but slee p in g f ace: each
thoug h t
that sur pri ses, al l breath s th at th o ug h t sur p ass
eng org e thi s faul t where m in g les tim e to k n o t
thi s si ngl e er ror, thi s swer ve th at b r in g s m e b ack
where al l thi ngs g ather, old wear s b lo sso m s n ewthi s deathl ess g rove, wh er e ever y b r an ch b ear s
you.

Indie Affair

Page 33

poeticnutjob
Bio: 39. Macon Georgia.
Divorced
Father
of
2
teens. Works full time as a
collections analyst. Hopefully
soon to be engaged. Amateur
photographer on Redbubble.
com as Donbphotography
Two books, self-published
via Createspace, both can be
found on Amazon.com and
Kindle. Titles: The Grocery
Store: Eclectic Poetic &
Noticed You Thinking.

By Don B.

Mar ri ed to a worl d g one by

bor n out of ti me, i n a p lace lo n g f o r g o tten
a sm al l ci ty devoi d of b eer
wi th a di sti nct l ack o f p o p co r n
Barg es of ol d cars l ai n f ad ed , r usty o n r o ad sid es
stopped where abandon ed
wi ndows cr usted over by year s
Mi l es of unsounded auto -h o r n s
dam p streets, overg row n sig n s
rotted trash m aki ng the sm ell. . . f o r eig n
doors l eft open ther e an d h er e
...and rai n sti l l pours

Indie Affair

Page 34

Digging Yo u
By Ryan Vallee

ryan.vallee
Bio: Ryan is a writer from
Michigan, whos trying to
make a dollar out of 15 cents.

I l l never know wher e yo u h id e

I understan d
but i ts my fi rst tim e
on thi s si de of th e d o o r
and i t feel s a bi t l i ke l ettin g a can d le
bur n out ever y ti me yo u d im away
i t feel s l i ke I cant h elp yo u
or that you wont let m e
i t feel s hel p less
that I m di g gi ng at co n cr ete
or cl awi ng on steel
pul l i ng a tree from th e g r o un d
that rooted twenty-ei g h t year s ag o

Indie Affair

Page 35

Dar kness
By -the_inkdiary

the_inkdiary
Bio: I am from Chandigarh,
India. I am 18 years in age. I
simply love writing poetry

An i nfi ni te canopy, an aim less p ath

T he astute pr o f usio n
Cal l s you i nto com m ence a jo ur n ey in to its h o llows!
For once you ar e in ,
I t i s the m aster and yo u its slave!
S hri eks i nto absol ute silen ce it swallows,
S i l enci ng al l cri es i nto i ts d ear thy-p r o f usio n . . .
D rivi ng you through inv isib le willows!
And there the broken autum n leaves lay lif eless,
Muti ng thei r pass io n ate ver ses. . .
Sur renderi ng to the ai r s wh isp er in g cur ses!
Darkness i t i s th ey say. . .
T he mi sl eadi ng seducti on . . . ur g e o f th e n ig h t!
T he spi ri ts fur y f o r th e d ay!
I t com m ences wi thi n th e sed ative lullaby
And i ts en d . . .
A myster y... Unasked . . . U n to ld . . .
Al l we know i s th at o n e tr uth
T hat your bel oved d r ives yo u in . . .
Tem pti ng you i nto an in f in ite k in !
And you the prey... sur render with an un d ecisive will
I nto that darkness... T he in f in ite em p tin ess!

Indie Affair

Page 36

Ashes Of L ife

nayanika_niks
Bio: Im Nayanika Dey from
India. Im 22. Im a student and
a writer blogger. I was lost in
the middle of the ocean. Then
I found poetry to help me toss
the waves of life. Im living my
life, chasing my dreams.

W hen my dead b o d y
Woul d be set o n f ir e,
T he ashes that wo uld wh elp
Woul d ki ss m e
And accumulate
My rem ain s,
Wi th thei r em br acin g ar m s
To take m e
And add m e
Back to the breast o f th e ear th ,
For dust was I
And dust shal l I r etur n .
By -N ayanik a D ey

Sculpted He ar t
By The Illusionist Insight

theillusionist_insight
Bio: ITwenty-two years old
and I cannot lie. Sometimes I
feel as old as the dirt path on
which I walk each day. I have
come to learn that my soul is
one with the elements. Hence,
words strung into rhymes
and sentences breathing life
have lent me a place to call
home. These pieces weave
the illusions in my head, the
doorway to escape the world
of reality at a simple touch of
a pen. I exist in the mundane
world as a Dental student
seeking to put smiles on faces
in real time, from my Guyanese
heart to yours.
Wordpress Blog:
theillusionistinsight

I f I were to b e h o n est,
T hey woul d scream at th e wo r d s I r elay,
T hi nki ng I l ost my hear t to love th ey say,
For onl y cri ppl ed breaths an d p ain s in th e ch est,
Scul pt the mu n d an e m in d ,
I nto the ar ti sts in f er n al test,
But the i nfi ni te ti cker b en eath my b r east,
Was i ncl i ned to the b eauty o f m an k in d ,
Long before the b attle o f love,
I sur rendered my h ear t to wo r d s.

Indie Affair

Page 37

My G o lden S un, Guyana

The Illusionist Insight

theillusionist_insight
Bio: ITwenty-two years old
and I cannot lie. Sometimes I
feel as old as the dirt path on
which I walk each day. I have
come to learn that my soul is
one with the elements. Hence,
words strung into rhymes
and sentences breathing life
have lent me a place to call
home. These pieces weave
the illusions in my head, the
doorway to escape the world
of reality at a simple touch of
a pen. I exist in the mundane
world as a Dental student
seeking to put smiles on faces
in real time, from my Guyanese
heart to yours.
Wordpress Blog:
theillusionistinsight

T he sun was ever shining, ever glowing, and scorching to

many even myself though Iwas bor n in Guyana. Guyana is
a small countr y located on the coast of South America.
Par t of the Caribbean, the weather consists of only two
seasons; the wet season and the dr y season. T his means
that when it rains it pours and if its hot you are bound to
need more than just two lemonades to kee p you cool.
To many who have g rown up here they dream of leaving to
g o to America, Canada or the UK. T he prospect of better
oppor tunities and becoming a par t of the aff luent world
are quite alluring. I too was once caught up in that desire
until I beg an to look closely at what this small, humble and
beautiful countr y had to offer.
Join with me open your eyes look at the beautiful sunset;
the aureate colors ling ering onthe border of shore and sk y.
My hear t knew it was home one after noon on the bus ride
home as I watched the g olden sun playing hide and seek
among the lush g reen of the trees.

Indie Affair

Page 38

Lament f o r He r
By HellionSaint

hellionsaint
Bio: My poetry is me weeping,
like a little girl in a corner
gripping her torn stockings
covered in blood. It is my
soul screaming as the world
turns a blind eye; they smile
as my teeth clench in rage. I
die every time an Angel loses
his wings, though, I will still
comfort you. I am man, reborn
in the bloodied wings of fallen
angels.

Reaching beyond the g rime and filth, pushing through

moribund blight, which is my inanimacy; enveloping
shadows of death without time to ensconce. Inner most
hollowness huddled by lonely nights, mour ning.
Stillness remains with passing tides without calmness to
soothe even the g entlest sigh. Pendulous by the futile
stride of time, heavy upon her shoulders, the weight of
her crimes. Forg otten is the ability to love, and g rant
herself forgiveness.
Dampened are screams of the child she holds unf linchi
ngly to her hear t; tangibility in cadence of a worlds
lamentation exudes her tender ness. By the abhor rence
of transg ression, her happiness is found. Embracing the
hand of death, a sentimental caress ushering the finale.

Indie Affair

Page 39

Lucia n and T he S tar s

By Luvina

luvinafr
Bio: An aspiring graphic artist
in creating art with iPhone
apps on her phone as her
only palette. Led by intuition,
dreams, pain and love, she
transforms everyday moments
into a delicate, ethereal and
vibrant fused art.

T his ar t piece was inspired by the dream that I had about a

little boy who could speak to the stars. Lucian which means
light in Latin, is what I call him by. Originated from beyond
limits known, he incar nates with g reat plans to make ear th a
better place

Indie Affair

Page 40

Cheshir e Grin
By KLP

open_journal

Bio: I began writing as a way

to escape my reality and in
turn, discovered I didnt have
to escape. I could bleed my
reality onto pages and release
the pain. All while connecting

It didnt really matter which way I went,

every path led back to his Cheshire smile,
and vanishing acts.
I knew what happened to curious minds
still I took his hand and let my heart fall.
Suddenly everything made sense
while nothing made sense at all in his
intoxicatingly addictive Wonderland.
I took shelter in his arms as shadows danced
we swayed, believing our nights eternal.
But nothing was as it seemed.
Chasing blue eyes and silhouettes through the brush,
around every bend, a rose from his past.
They ensnared me in their thorns,
warning me to run back the way I came,
to find home,
or I would love him too.
It would be a greater fate to lose my head,
they mocked than to lose my heart.
But I couldnt go back to who I was before
love had changed me in mysterious ways.
I found myself as I found him perched aside
a willow tree overlooking a crystal clear stream
beckoning me.
His half truths spoken like riddles with no last line,
I had gone mad, as had he.
Our madness an adventure forever to last.
For LB who will always be my Cheshire, my Hatter, my adventure,
my madness, and my sanity.

Indie Affair

Page 41

By b0xxhead

b0xxhead

Bio: 870 Gang

These are my words
Okay, todays a new day
IX TrapRat
with many beautiful souls
whom share the same

Live by the book , bu t write your own laws, p ro duce f laws.

T hey call the s ys tem a rock , but its n o t in destr uctib le Its indes cribable how the peo p le die a n d wa tch th eir
fam ilies tr y to g et over th e lo ss.
W hats the cos t of a s ou l? T hey tell yo u to p lay yo ur ro ll,
bu t what if you wanna rais e; a n a rchy isnt a p h a se.
D ont reckon with a force if yo u do nt kn ow th e so urce.
T hat tr ee m ig ht be beau tiful, b ut th e seed is evil.
Open the wou nd a n d revea l.

Indie Affair

Page 42

Oceanus Pr ocellar um
By Pamela Lukrecja

pamela_Lukrecja_Rys

Bio: A contemporary artist

who works in a variety of
media. She lives and works
in London. She worked in
Industrial and Fashion Design
while still studying Art and
Design. During her studies,
she was working mainly by
means of computers and visual
editing software. Extensive
use of computers resulted in
restriction to the traditional,
pure and free art forms which
was one of the main reasons to
put the design on hiatus and
focus on painting. Her planet
series paintings were such
a breakthrough that paved
the way to the Darren Baker
Gallery in London. Pamela
Lukrecja is currently studying
painting towards completing
the MA degree in Fine Arts.

T hi s i s a bs tr a ct pa i nti ng on ca nva s. I m cu r r en tl y cr e a ti n g a
new s er i es of pa i nti ngs a bou t s o l a r s ys tem . I m i n s p i r ed by
s tr u ctu r e of pl a nets a nd ma r ks o n th e m o o n . T h i s o n e wa s
i ns pi r ed by the s u r f a ce of M oon. I ver y mu ch en j oyed p a i n ti n g
pr oces s, beca u s e i t g ave me a l o t o f r o o m to ex p er i m en t. I
a l s o d i s cover ed s ome new f ea tu r es o f m a ter i a l s th a t I u s ed . I t
i s mi xed -med i a pa i nti ng i n heavy i m p a s to wi th a cr yl i c p a i n ts,
i nk, br oca d e a nd g es s o.
A r ti st Sta temen t: M y a r twor ks m a i n l y ex h i b i t r i ch i n ter n a l
f eel i ng s a s wel l a s the mos t s om b er co r n er s o f my s o u l i n
f avou r of ca tha r i s ti c eff ect. I focu s m a i n l y o n th e em o ti o n a l
s i d e of the l i f e ex per i ence. Col ou r s ta ke th e u p m o s t i m p o r ta n ce
her e. T hey s ymbol i z e my feel i ng s a n d th e way I p er ceive th e
wor l d . T he j u x ta pos i ti on of whi te a n d b l a ck a r e i n th e s h a r p es t
contr a s t to ea ch other, whi ch i s pu r p o s e l y u s ed a s a m a i n f o r m
of ex pr es s i on. T hey d e pi ct cons tr u ctive a n d d es tr u ctive f eel i n g s
on the eq u a l g r ou nd . M y s tyl e i s o f ten d ef i n ed by s ten ci l a n d
tex tu r e a r t. I wor k i n a va r i ety of m ed i a b eca u s e I a l ways n eed
to tr y new ways to ex pr es s mys el f.

Indie Affair

Page 43

Tear of a dying star

By Hamza

Bio: The thing with words is

that, I understand them, and
they understand me. We never
grow tired of listening to each
other.

I look arou nd and s ee a tes ta men t o f desp o n den cy,

hope les s nes s, and desp era tio n .
Oh, the way broken m or tals s mile with a rigid ven eer o f
eu phoria hiding their m ou nting emo tio n s, livin g th eir lives
in eter nal damn a tio n .
T heir s ou ls trans cend to the fath o mless de p th s o f miser y,
Still believ ing that they have b een do n e n o in jur y.
I perceive it to be a nig htm are; a sca rcely credib le myster y
when I look arou nd m e, only to see p eo p le str ug glin g
blindly with th emselves.
In the worlds tor n des pair, I can n ever tr uly kn ow a n yo n e,
even myself.
So I ju s t s tand there as I ligh t a n o th er cig a rette,
Tr ying to fill the s ilent sa dn ess with in ,
With anything bu t tea rs o f reg ret.

Litarar y Days of Note:

Jul y 1 1 th, 1 9 6 0 , To K ill a Mock ingb ird is p ub lish ed by H a r p er
L ee. Her novel of g rowing u p amid so cia l ten sio n s in th e
Am erican Sou th was pu blis hed in 1960 to g rea t a ccla im a n d
r obu s t s ales. It won a Pu litzer Priz e a n d wa s ma de in to a
s u cces s fu l 1 9 6 2 film s tar ring G reg o r y Peck a s th e fa th er,
Atticu s Finch.
Jul y 1 6 th, 1 9 2 7 T heodore G eis el p ub lish es h is first ca r to o n
as D r. Seu s s. Perhaps the 2 0 th cen tur ys mo st fa mo us a uth o r
f o r children, D r. Seu s s wrote and illustra ted n ea rly 50 b o o ks
of q u irk y childrens vers e du ring his lifetime. H is b o o ks were
f a m ou s for their fu nny rhym es and wh imsica l ch a ra cters.
Jul y 3 0 th, 1 9 3 5 Paperback book s were in tro duced.
August 3 r d, 1 8 6 1 T he las t ins tallmen t o f Grea t E xp ecta tio n s
i s pu blis hed.
August 1 5 th, 1 9 4 7 T he s peech Tr yst with Destin y delivered
by Jawaharlal N ehr u , the firs t Prime Min ister o f in de p en den t
India, to the Indian Cons titu ent Assemb ly in T h e Pa rlia men t,
on the eve of Indias Inde pendence, towa rds midn igh t o n th is
day. It focu s es on the as pects tha t tra n scen d In dia s h isto r y.
It is cons idered to be one of the g rea test sp eech es o f th e
2 0 th centu r y and to be a landma rk o ra tio n th a t ca p tures
the es s ence of the triu m phant culmin a tio n o f th e la rg ely
non-v iolent Indian inde pendence str ug gle a g a in st th e British
Em pire in India.

Indie Affair

Page 44

OUROBOROS
By Micala Royal

sevensouldeep

Bio: Micala Royal wrote her first

poem with her toes. As a young girl,
she quickly discovered that dance,
being a natural or instinctive form
of creative self-expression and
individuality, would save her. A
self-proclaimed bunhead for life,
Micala studied classical ballet for
over fifteen years and trained in St.
Petersburg, Russia prior to hanging
up the tutu. She needed a new
language for self-expression and
this time, she would use words.
During her last year of undergraduate
studies in Political Science, Micala
began a torrid love affair with
political philosophy and developed
an
unhealthy
addiction
for
dissecting philosophical arguments
and theories.
Thomas Hobbes Leviathan, coupled
with weekly doses of Aristotelian and
Machiavellian works, can be blamed
of Micalas decent down the rabbit
hole, which resulted in a masters
degree specializing in political
philosophy from the University of
Alberta.Micala and her husband are
creating a peaceful and inspired life
together in Western Canada, where
Micala is a full-time proposal writer
for an architectural and creative
Design studio. If shes not working
on proposal submissions, you can
find her writing Melancholic poetry
and prose at her favourite hookah
lounge, obsessing over the somber
meditations of the Graveyard Poets,
conversing with angels and plants,
collecting black clothes and tattoos,
and contemplating the complexities
and dualities of human nature whilst
sketching with charcoal.

It is the m os t holy death to s wa llow o n eself wh o le.

To ris e and fall with the darkn ess a n d ligh t,
to love and fear the ter ror o f b elo n gin g to b o th .

Indie Affair

Page 45

Music To Watch Boys To

By Peter Curtis

peterdelcurtis

Bio: My name is Peter Curtis, and I

am an eighteen-year-old Instagram
artist from the United States. I joined
Instagram when I was fourteen
and gradually gained popularity
from posting my artwork under
the username @peterdelcurtis.
My biggest inspiration from the
start was the talented singer and
songwriter Lana Del Rey. This piece
is based on her music video Music
To Watch Boys To, using colored
pencils. This is one of many Lana
Del Rey pieces that I have added to
my Instagram collection

My nam e is Peter Cu r tis, a n d I a m a n eigh teen year-old Ins tag ram ar tis t fro m th e Un ited Sta tes.
I joined Ins tag ram when I wa s fo ur teen a n d
g radu ally g ained popu larity fro m p o stin g my
ar twork u nder the u s er name @p eterdelcur tis. My
big g es t ins piration from th e sta r t wa s th e ta len ted
s ing er and s ongwriter L ana Del Rey. T h is p iece
is bas ed on her mu s ic v ideo Music To Wa tch
B oys To, u s ing colored p en cils. T h is is o n e o f
m any L ana D el Rey pieces th a t I h ave a dded to
my Ins tag ram collection.

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THANK
YOU