The Sunshine State Through My Lens

Evolution

Never have I been more afraid of an animal.

White toothed grin, skin pungent with the dirt

they grew from and onto, spit. 

We both live on this earth, 

but not in the same way.

I´ve seen clawed things tearing holes

through mesh patio screens and dark tights

with the swipe of a thick finger. 

They move their limbs, unthinkingly,

grasping the air and hoping to cling

onto something raw.

I've heard growls under the cover of a street lamp’s

yellow moon, evening wind carrying the sound

down unpaved, virgin streets. 

With each vibration of their echoes’ reach,

a beckon or a warning.

I´ve tasted the flushed breath of air

damp with rabbit fur and termites-

bitter cigarette ash and crumpled bills. 

The green haze of a belly full,

but never satisfied.

I´ve stared into the eyes of a beast

and felt their blackness take in all of me- 

every muscle and bone that makes up a woman-

and seen its greed grow greater.

Isabella Abalo ‘29

This piece symbolizes my childhood growing up in Florida. The giraffe represents Lion Country Safari. I was always going there to feed them lettuce. Ducks live all around my house–so, of course, I drew them—and he’s eating a Pub-sub because they’re so good. There’s a lizard riding a bike because I used to bike a lot and catch lizards. There’s the I-95 highway wall, the one with the birds ingrained on it, leading to the Saint Augustine fort. The duck stands on the Johnathan Dickinson park boardwalk, which leads to the observation tower where I used to watch 4th of July fireworks with my cousins. And the swamp with the mosquito fishing is there, as that’s very common in Florida. Lastly, the Jesus lizard is running across the water because my dad always jokes about them. The two different skies show the bipolar Florida weather.

Kiara Benoit ‘26

This piece represents the greed of man and how it may be compared to that of a wild animal.