KZine

KZine
Vol. 1, Issue 4
The Purple Possibility Issue
PHOTOGRAPHY • GRAPHIC DESIGN
A
Publication
Hello everyone! Welcome to the
fourth issue of KZine. To follow in
the footsteps of the last issue, over
there to the left is a photo of me in
the fourth grade.
This month’s theme is Purple
Possibility. Purple, because it is
my partner, Jenn’s favorite color,
and it is just all-around awesome.
Possibility, because that’s what art
brings out. As artists, it brings to
the surface feelings or thoughts
that may not have otherwise shown themselves. As
readers, art gives us an awareness of perspective beyond
our own eyes and ears.
This month’s Question for the Artists is actually two
questions. They are as follows: 1) You just found $100 on
the ground. How do you spend it? and 2) What is your
favorite childhood toy, game, or both?
Thank you again for your support, and I hope you enjoy
the fourth issue of KZine!
-Kris
Kris Hartley
Kris Hartley
Submissions: send an email to khartley76@yahoo.com or visit
www.facebook.com/kzine4 for more details.
Subscription information: $20.00 for 6 issues/year. Email
khartley76@yahoo.com with your subscription order and mailing
information.
Purple [pur-puhl] adjective
Purple is a range of hues of color occurring between red and
blue. The Oxford English Dictionary describes it as a deep, rich
shade between crimson and violet.
Effects
• Uplifting
• Calming to mind and nerves
• Offers a sense of spirituality
• Encourages creativity
Symbolism
(Courtesy of www.color-wheel-pro.com)
• Purple combines the stability of blue and the energy of red.
• Purple is associated with royalty.
• It symbolizes power, nobility, luxury, and ambition.
• It conveys wealth and extravagance.
• Purple is associated with wisdom, dignity, independence, creativity,
mystery, and magic.
Quotes
“I won’t eat any cereal that doesn’t turn the milk purple.”
-Bill Watterson
“I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color
purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.” -Alice Walker
“You wouldn’t know a subtle plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked
on top of a harpsichord singing ‘Subtle Plans Are Here Again.’” -Blackadder
Random Purple Things
(Courtesy of www.fortheloveofpurple.com)
The Purple Heart
The original Purple Heart award was instituted by George Washington in
1782 to reward troops for “unusual gallantry” and “extraordinary fidelity and
essential service.” The award was a purple cloth heart edged in silver braid,
and was to be worn over the left breast of the uniform.
Purple People Eater Song
“The Purple People Eater” is a novelty song, written and performed by Sheb
Wooley, that reached #1 in the Billboard pop charts in 1958.
Possibility [pos-uh-bil-i-tee] noun
Possibility is:
1) A thing that may happen or be the case;
2) The state or fact of being likely or possible; likelihood.
Synonyms
achievability, attainableness, chance, contingency, fair shake, fifty-
fifty, fluke, happening, hope, liability, likelihood, likeliness, odds,
opportunity, outside chance, plausibility, potentiality, prayer,
probability, prospect, risk, shot, stab, toss-up, workableness
Antonyms
impossibility, impossible, unfeasibility, unlikelihood
Ways to Open Yourself Up to New Possibilities
(courtesy of tinybuddha.com)
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Quotes
“Trust yourself. Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live
with all your life. Make the most of yourself by fanning the tiny, inner
sparks of possibility into flames of achievement.” -Golda Meir
“A desire presupposes the possibility of action to achieve it; action
presupposes a goal which is worth achieving.” -Ayn Rand
“I dwell in possibility.” -Emily Dickinson
“Enter every activity without giving mental recognition to the
possibility of defeat. Concentrate on your strengths, instead of your
weaknesses... on your powers, instead of your problems.”
-Paul J. Meyer
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Janet Burns
www.facebook.com/jm.burns.5
1) You just found $100 on the ground.
How do you spend it?
Probably where most all my money
goes...grocery store and gas tank.
2) What is your favorite childhood toy,
game, or both?
My bike and Play-Doh.
5 6
Heather Bradley
twizfoshiz@gmail.com
The night falls upon me
Like the softness of the rain.
I take my shelter with you,
In a world without pain.
You are my refuge,
The place I run to hide.
Life would never be the same
Without you by my side.
As we rest in each others arms
Away from the cruel cruel world
I find my joy and my peace
All wrapped up into one beautiful girl.
This is the place I dream of
Throughout every day.
You are my nightfall
And I would have it no other way.
Angela Kay
Dark, crisp autumn night
The moon smiling down on us
The wind whispering.
Our souls intwined
Like the roots of an oak tree
We are the future.
We are connected
Woven through time and through space
Attracting, out fate
The warmth of our love
Scalding the eyes of haters...
Let ‘em burn, baby.
Love is love is love
Triple antibiotic
Mind, body, and soul.
1) You just found $100 on the
ground. How do you spend it?
If I found $100 on the ground and
couldn’t find who it belonged to,
I’d probably go fill up my tank and
just go for a drive. Nothing is more
calming and peaceful to me than
a road trip - no matter how big or
small.
2) What is your favorite childhood
toy, game, or both?
My favorite childhood toy was my
Teddy Ruxpin. He’s still in the closet at
my mom’s house.
My favorite game is Bumper Cars. It
was kind of like Sorry, but with cars.
I think it’s my favorite because I have
MANY memories of begging my
nanny to play it with me - and she
would every time.
1) You just found $100 on the
ground. How do you spend it?
I would like to say that I would
do something really noble and
humbling with an extra $100 in my
pocket... But I’m a goo hoarder so
in reality I’d probably spend it on
fingernail polish and fancy lip gloss.
The remainder of the funds would
go in my gas tank.
2) What is your favorite childhood
toy, game, or both?
I don’t know if it’s really considered
a game but most of my childhood
was spent on a trampoline. I’d
have sleepovers and we looked
for shooting stars while singing to
Alanis Morissette.
7 8
1) You just found $100 on the ground. How do you spend it?
It’s hard to say. I need a new camera (unfortunately my favorite one died, and my
other two aren’t really unusable right now). Or, I’d get some of the things I need to get
my jewelry business a little further off the ground (to at least be able to sell my jewelry
online).
2) What is your favorite
childhood toy, game, or both?
I’d have to say my stuffed
monkey, “Sammy”. He’s the
only childhood toy that I have
left (long story). Sammy was
a lot of comfort to me when I
was growing up. I’ve had him
since I was 7, and I’m now 42.
I used to love playing this one
game with my mom when I
was a kid. It was our “killing
time” game that we’d play when we were waiting for a store to open, or waiting for
an appointment or something. One of us would draw a funny head with a face, down
to the neck. Then we would fold the paper, hiding the head, but not the neck. The other
person would continue the drawing from the neck, and add funny arms and torso, down
to the top of the legs. Then fold the paper again, hiding the previous two parts of the
drawing. And the other person would draw funny legs (and maybe a tail of some sort,
or whatever came to mind). After that, we’d open up the drawing to reveal the whole
picture. She and I came up with some REALLY crazy looking creatures! But we always
got a big laugh out of it.
Joy Underwood
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www.facebook.com/Celticpath.Arts
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Kris Hartley
Kris Hartley
Jenn Howell
Night Watch
I fell asleep in your eyes last night
Only to be awoken by contented sighs
The sound of your heart lulled me to sleep once more
My hand resting on your thigh
I felt you kiss my head gently
I snuggle closer to your skin
Its warmth calms me in tortured dreams
The smell of a just showered lover
You can’t sleep so you watch me instead
You watch me breathe
Like a guardian angel keeping an ever vigil watch over my soul
Your hands in my hair
You finally give into sleep
But your arms still keep me close for fear of drifting away
The sun slowly rises once more
Another night of bad dreams kept at bay
1) You just found $100 on the ground. How do you spend it?
Put gas in the car and take my baby out to a nice dinner.
2) What is your favorite childhood toy, game, or both?
Playing dress-up with my friends
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WHAT THE STORM BRINGS (The Janus House)
Some people swore that the house was haunted. Savannah could barely
make out its silhouette in the snow. The car was out of gas. She slid out of her seat into
the night and pushed through the snow in her treadless secondhand boots. Wrapping
her threadbare coat around her burgeoning belly, sobs inaudibly rose in her throat,
lips moved in prayer, promises to the Almighty. She didn’t know where she was. She
stumbled, fell to her knees, ice cutting her skin, biting her small hands, but she rose to try
to make a go of it again.
The house was closer; she was nearly there. Her lips stopped moving from the
sheer cold, and she slipped her way to the open, uneven porch. On her hands and
knees, she clawed her way to the door, exhausted, dress sticking to her bare legs.
Savannah’s eyes filled with tears as she pushed at the door. “Please..” she cried out
weakly, to no one, everyone.
The door hadn’t been closed all the way. She crawled inside. Savannah
leaned her back against the door, digging her heels into the floor to push it closed.
The New England wind made a last desperate wail as it flowed outward and left her.
She reached into her pocket, pulling out the note she had written in the car.
For him. She had come for them. For the child that grew within her. “We’re all right now,”
she said. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her belly.
Several miles away, Elizabeth heard Jack’s police radio sound in his study. She
went to him, paused when she found him sleeping in his chair in the living room. She
considered him carefully: tousled hair, ruddy cheeks, strong shoulders, gentle hands. Her
heart swelled with love for this beautiful man. Jack. Elizabeth touched his sleeve and his
eyes popped open. He sat upright. Elizabeth rubbed his arm. “No,
love, it’s alright. I just wanted you to know something came over the
radio. They found a car, and a woman in the old Janus house.”
Jack rose and stretched. “Thanks, honey. I’ll call in.” He kissed his wife and
chucked her under the chin before going into his study to find out the news.
The dispatcher, Sally, answered his call. “Hey, Jack- no, don’t know yet. Sheriff’s
actually coming out to you. Must need more manpower. I’ll call if I hear anything before
you do.” Jack thanked her and opened his desk drawer for his gun and badge. He
paused and half-grinned at the photo on his desk- his beautiful, sweet Elizabeth, and
his six-year-old son, Sam. Jack was a lucky man. He was more cognizant of this than
ever, maybe because he was getting older, maybe because of his failings. Maybe
because he knew how little it all meant without them.
He shoved his gun into his holster just as the bell rang. Elizabeth had already
ushered the Sheriff into the foyer when Jack entered the room.
“We need to talk, alone, Jack,” the Sheriff said softly. Jack shifted his weight uneasily.
“Say what you need to, Sheriff,” Jack answered. “Elizabeth stays.” Elizabeth took Jack’s
arm.
The Sheriff nodded, cleared his throat, and removed his hat. A small dusting of
snow fell unceremoniously to the ground. The Sheriff looked apologetic and lowered his
eyes.
“We found a young woman at the Janus place,” he started. Elizabeth felt a
chill right through her shoulders, the ghostly fingers of the storm, a draft the Sheriff let in
with the weight of some words all three knew would change everything. She pressed
closer to her husband.
“There was a note, Jack. It’s addressed to you,” he continued. “She didn’t make
it. She was pregnant, Jack. Savannah.”
Jack looked at the note in the Sheriff’s hands as he offered it forward. The
floor shifted. Savannah.
“Please read the note. Please just read the note, Jack,” the Sheriff pleaded.
“The baby is okay. The baby’s alive, Jack. It’s a girl…..”
Some still say that old Janus house is haunted, especially on account of a
death happening right there on those old floorboards, but others say different.
Others remember the new life it pressed forward instead.
Hilary Holland
pinkhilary@yahoo.com
1) You just found $100 on the ground. How do you spend it?
A glamorous dress a size too small. To motivate me!
2) What is your favorite childhood toy, game, or both?
I liked the Snoopy Sno Cone Maker a lot, though I was more fascinated with
the Stretch Armstrong doll.
Some days, words are an abomination
To the conflict inside…
That is where the beauty of your silence comes in…
I soak in the quiet fervor in your touch
And censor not the sounds of nothing.
When I need an instrumental
To relieve the pressure of word-grappling,
All else bombards me
Except for you—
You quietly wait for the screeching clamor
To die out
And walk in a whisper toward me—
Closer to lay a hand on my apathy.
Tonight I feel it;
Now is the hour of your renewal.
The splintering chaos of each waking hour
Somehow finds a way to lift up my skin
And find its way in.
By the end of the day,
My psyche is spent;
My flame is forlorn.
But with one wisp from your eyes,
A solitary breeze from your peace,
I have found abundance…
Always let me see your air,
May I never witness your retreat.
Permit the syllables to take me over;
Bring on the language fabrications—
They are no match for what awaits me at the end…
-july 10, 2008
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Kris Hartley
You guys already know me.
Speech Communication Tips:
Volume 4
This section is dedicated to the invaluable information I received in
my speech communication class back in the summer of 2009. This
was the class that I most dreaded in my college career. It turned
out to be the most useful, not only in the area of giving speeches,
but also in the areas of listening and communicating with others.
Types of Non-verbal communication
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o Facial expression (eyebrows, forehead, eyes, mouth)
o Posture (overt movement)
o Gestures (arms, hands)
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o Tone of voice; how you say something
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o Public: 10’ or more
o Social: 10’ to 5’
o Personal Space: 3’
o Intimate: 18” or less
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o Showing up early or late
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o Handshake
Intentional Blankness
Use this space to draw, write, doodle, color, paint, or whatever.
Mail it in, and I’ll include it in an upcoming zine!
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Kris Hartley
Drop me a line at
khartley76@yahoo.com
for my mailing address!
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©2013 kmh Photography and Graphic Design.
All Rights Reserved.
Kris Hartley

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