The featured artist for this edition of HLR Spotlight is Cameo Venchiarutti, a student in the Visual and Digital Arts (VADA) program at Humber College.
Posts tagged #Spotlight 8
Perfectly Imperfect
I couldn’t see anything beyond the periphery of my torchlight. With every muscle in my body urging me to return to the warmth and comfort of my bed, and my buddy’s not-so-melodious voice singing, “ain’t no ocean deep enough,” echoing in the background, I dove in.
It's Just Down Memory Lane
Some say the streets of Fantasma were haunted. Others say they were cursed. Not a lot of businesses were open around those parts. Except for one. A small café by the name of Selene was strangely always open at nighttime.
Ghost Town
It was as if my thoughts had followed Frieda. Together they had left Bell Springs in the dust, the town growing smaller in their bus’s rear-view window. Without them, I had begun to see the town Frieda had despised slowly inverted like the negative of a photo.
Souvenirs
The human memory is a beautiful thing. Even amongst the ugliness that was my childhood, that memory stands pure. Untouched and unstained.
Walk Like It’s a Secret
Dame looked at his reflection from the storefront window, rain scattered across the glass as his gaze bounced between the store hour decals and his silhouette.
My Next Distraction
The essence of romance captured in a series of photos. My dream world organized in folders made public, so anyone can peek into the phantom of a world that I created for myself. That’s what I could be doing right now.
The Right Shade of Brown
My casual, nonchalant answer to his high-stakes question offends him. I can feel his accusing eyes burning into me as I take a sip of my Coke. Are they full of envy or plain disgust for my privilege?
You’re Having ‘Intimate Relations’ With Someone
I don’t need to listen to her manipulation anymore. I never should’ve, but other people will also be affected if the source of ignorance is never faced. The only thing that will be left over is shame towards myself.
Melodies for the Gaunt
So long did I wander, in vain efforts to find again the beautiful melody. So that the days and nights seemed as one long fog in my mind and I could not recognize dawn from dusk, haunted all the while by a desperation-like to the most poignant of addicts.
The Demise of Immortality
I woke up with death on my hands. Literally. Imagine it—your life being determined by a butterfly tattoo on your forearm.
Crimson Dawn
The air smelled of blood, but none had yet been shed.
Death and the Orphan
And then, after nearly three weeks, the day arrived. The door of his ward slowly opened and there she was, Death.
The King’s Search
The wealthy man smiles, but like a gap in his teeth, or a mother without a child, something is missing.
Homecoming Queen
There is something uniquely terrifying about returning home after so many years.