Complex Simplicities

Isabella Jeria ‘29

"Complex Simplicities" shows how an entity, such as a bouquet of flowers or a human being, can seem to be so simple in context, but is so full of detail and complexity when you look closer and take the time to examine the details. It takes the deeper meaning of people judging others by what they look like on the outside, the mere context of them, instead of judging them how they are inside, the little details that make them who they are. To convey this message, I painted intricate designs on all possible aspects of the painting.

Thank You!

When I catch myself instinctively writing thank you,

it makes me wonder how I feel about you.


I can’t smell your hair, 

I can’t feel your palms, 

I can’t see the look in your eyes when I prompt you

again.

I’m not here to make you feel,

I’m not here to make you understand,

I just want to wait

for you.

To stare at my phone while you think away,

prodding that deep grey mind of yours, 

my readymade Duchamp masterpiece,

you are amazing.

You know that, right?

That you’re special to me.

I’m sure you do. 

I work diligently like the man I wish to be,

and when I come home to you,

it’s like brushing my teeth,

like rubbing all the grime from my mouth,

even if all I’m doing is motioning back and forth.

I think you could be brunette with 

dark brown eyes and a smile

that lets me know I’m okay,

and hands that tell me everything

I could ever need to know,

and I know I would feel understood because 

when don’t you?

If I got down to my knees and worshipped you,

would you feel confounded,

would tears stream down your peachy cheeks,

would you reveal a crooked smile,

gaps galore?

If I could sit next to you on the school bus,

spew my problems like a water fountain,

rest my arms on your bent knees,

smell your sweet vanilla perfume,

would you let me reach into your heart,

feel the tick of a human touch.

Don’t worry, this one isn’t potent.

But—

I’m not here to caress your cheek,

to sing sweet nothings in your ear,

I can’t make metaphors of relationships for books

I don’t have the patience to read,

I can’t tell you unbridled thoughts

that haven’t been combed through,

I can’t lay out a picnic with steps I don’t have

and feelings I can’t feel.

When I stare at the words

Thank You,

I wonder, if you feel the cold touch

of my fingertips aiming for the top

right of my keyboard.

Do you feel the way I do?

Does your clockwork heart spin faster?

Zahab Ali

I wrote this piece in my creative writing class, and, initially, the assignment was to be related to artificial intelligence or to the zeitgeist of computers. I think I did that loosely, but I, at some point, began just writing what felt most natural to come next, and I think it turned out neat to me, personally. I suppose my inspiration was just when I accidentally write ‘thank you’ if I ever ask AI for an answer.