The Artist's Life

It’s dark outside on winter mornings, as sophomore Harmony Negrin — dancer, harpist, yoga enthusiast, dance team member for the basketball team, problem solver at the library — knows firsthand. She’s up early to get to her 7:30 job in computer technology services at the Saint Mary’s library. With a name like Harmony it might seem inevitable that this young woman, the first in her family to go to college, would be a music lover. Sure enough, she’s played the harp since she was five and danced since she was 12. By 10:30, Harmony takes advantage of a free period to practice the harp.

The Craft of Mentorship

By Ben Peterson

What does it mean to own and embrace the life of a writer? Is there an aha! moment in which the possibilities of a writer’s life become clear? Or validation and guidance from a mentor? Mary Volmer experienced both.

Dorm Sweet Dorm

Grayson Hurd '11.

At Play in the Fields of the Mind

By Ben Peterson

Mary True, professor of psychology, says that when her children find milk in the cupboard or cereal in the refrigerator, they say, "Oh, Mom must be thinking big thoughts."

It’s because, she says, the most critical part of her creative process is "following an idea with 'light thinking,’ free of goals, worries and a 'to do’ list." And light thinking sometimes sends her into a different kind of consciousness, wandering around the house as she puzzles through her research findings.

Creativity Unbound: The Power of the Imaginative Spirit

Illustration by Olivia Wise

We all know how the creative process looks in movies. A painter attacks the canvas as music swells. A writer punches keys furiously, his novel pouring out of his fingers as time and space recede around him. A wild haired mad scientist shrieks to the heavens, "Life, do you hear me! Give my creation LIFE!"

Letters to the Editor


From the Editor

By Elizabeth Smith

The Note

By Glen Silva

You're Mine, You

By Valyntina Grenier

One person isn’t from many solitudes
She gives valediction
She gives from instinct infinitesimal selves out of the household
She keeps pained expressions out of the household
She disregards infinitesimal selves

Unceasingly she isn’t public 
unending under unending another 
not subconsciously
She isn’t alike parallel to some center
She isn’t unalike from some surface equality

Finding Common Ground: Our Lady of Guadalupe

By Pamela Thomas
Photos by Katy Shayne Rogers and Charles Mann

It was in December of 1531—the year Halley's comet traversed the sky—when Juan Diego was on his way to Mass but stopped on Tepeyac to listen to songbirds. He heard a woman call him by name and, speaking in his native language, Nahuatl, beckon him up the top of the hill. She identified herself as the ever-Virgin Mary, Mother of the true God. She asked that a church be built in her honor on this hill and told him to tell the bishop about her request.


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Moraga, CA 94575
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