workshop 
announcement

in issue five
Scintillations
My Final Phone Call
Master Of My Fate
Almost Famous Photographers
Bugs
Cubicle Hell
Breaking Out Of My Cocoon
Letters To My Younger Self 
Boundaries & Walls
Surviving Today
Adventures In Chalking
Books That Changed My Life
Declare What You Are
My Most Brave Moment
Masks of Bravery  
Love And God
Moody Girl

poetry
Vocalizing
Bravery
The Imaginary "You"

afterthoughts
comments from our readers

contributors

take me back
to the cover
to contents page 

in every issue
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future issues
Issue Six: Friendship
Issue Seven: Trust

previous issues
Issue One: Change
Issue Two: Balance
Issue Three: Spring
Issue Four: Goddess

Face of Hope
by Lisa Gizzi

My face so bright and cheery 
My smile so wide from ear to ear 
My eyes so big and brown 
Behind the eyes and smile 
Is a very scared little girl 
Who doesn't want to be scared anymore

She wants to feel happy, 
     content, and loved
And most of all, cherished.

The world has only seen me 
As bubbly and outgoing
Which is only part 
Of the true and real Lisa

My heart is hurting 
Which reflects on my face
But my eyes are red hearts
All I want to see is love

The day we made the masks I didn’t want to go.  Maybe I didn’t want to see how much I wear a mask in my life.  The process was a little frightening.  We had to lie still while wet pieces of treated gauze were layered on our faces covering up eyes, mouth and nose – just enough open space under each nostril to breathe.  Unable to speak, my mind raced as usual.  Is talking one way I have of hiding?  I waited a long time to decorate my mask.  For weeks it remained blank.  Finally, I arrived at an idea I deemed worthy.  I printed up several essays I had written about being a woman.  I snipped the papers and glued them onto the mask.  I was pleased with what I had created.  I lived it with it in plain black and white for a while and then decided to add tissue—so it would be colorful, but the words would still come through.  Maybe I hide behind my writing, too?  The questions remain unanswered, and the mask is on my desk right now looking at me as I type this. 

The Mask And The Shell
by Julie Russell, at age 17

I have a mask
It smiles, it laughs
But it doesn't cry
It doesn't become angry
And it never loses control
It looks just like me
And nobody can tell the difference

I also have a shell
It contains unwanted emotions
Like sadness and angriness
It grows like a balloon
Expanding as it is filled
But it is also a shell
It protects me from pain
By hiding what hurts me.

The mask and the shell
Work together, collaborating
The shell contains 
What the mask restrains

And neither are working
Because I'm hurting
Right now.

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