The Price of Poise

Isabella Abalo ‘29

This piece symbolizes the pain masked behind the façade of perfection. Before making this drawing, I asked myself, “What can I draw to show how rough being impeccable really is?” And then it hit me: a ballerina’s feet. Their pointe shoes are a beautiful pink lace, and their postures perfect. Yet, as soon as they remove their shoes, their cuts and bruises become prevalent. The struggle of appearing perfect is unreal. This doesn’t apply to ballet; it applies to everyday life. For instance, behind every perfect grade is six hours of harsh studying. Underneath every beautiful Medieval girl’s dress is a corset so tight it hurts to breathe. This is the concept I strove to illustrate in this piece.

My Body After Yusef Komunyakaa’s Anodyne

I love the eyes that sit

unequally on my face,

which bless me with

the ability to see the

ethereal beauty of the

world. I love the hideous

stubs on my feet, which

allow me to saunter and

feel the earth beneath my

me. I love the lines that

map out the inner-part of my

palm, each line so distinctly

different carved out in front

of me.

I love the beating tissue clumped

together in my chest that gives me the

capacity to love.

I love the rivers flowing through me

so that I can breathe,

walk, talk, love, live.

I love the skin that protects me

like a shield. I love the strands

of soft hair that cover my body.

The soft skin on my lips, so I can

kiss. The light blue veins visible

under my light brown skin.

But most of all, I love the wet

grey mass of cells sitting in

my head that hold the secrets

of the universe. Each curve a new

memory, a new idea, a new love.

And when I close my uneven eyes

and stretch my stubby legs and let

loose the soft strands of hair

on my body, I dream.

Ananyaa Sachan ‘29

This piece is a celebration of my body and how it connects to my absolute existence. I wrote about some of the most imperfect things about me that are deemed ugly, but, in truth, they are the most beautiful creations in existence, the ones that many people fail to realize. With this poem, I hope to inspire others to celebrate themselves.