Im carefully stepping over the pieces of the shells that had exploded someone’s life months ago...I try to look out for the new, poisonous ones who are hiding their evil horns so they can blow up another innocent, young life into countless shreds of flesh.The mines won’t listen to your prayers and they don’t give a slightest thing about mercy,They want to blow you up and devour your blood while...

GUIDED BY CHAOS, CONSUMED BY FEAR ENTER THE UNKNOWN. HOPE AND RESILIENCE.

Ronald Reagan Rich explores the war on drugs and what role the American government played in the influx of drugs during the Reagan era. Surely the heavy drug trafficking of the time made a horrible impact on many communities but were these same communities helped along? We ask the question in a satirical way that flips corruption and capitalism on it's head.  Furthermore, the biggest intent her...

Famous man burning as a protest of war, and me cooking a marshmallow

Hi my name is Richard LaLonde. I wrote and directed my very first short film as a school project. I wanted to make something more than just an assignment. This is all visually told with no dialogue. My goal was to push myself to tell a story I hadn’t told before and to draw in the audience emotionally. I hope you enjoy!

Persian Calligraphy by Sherry Yadegari https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-No-War/1453765/8173158/view www.saatchiart.com

Decolonize turtle island! Paper mache head made from recycled materials by non-binary hands 

It is not for you to catch all the fires that find theirflight to Guernica | the cinder settles on the paletteafter being coughed from the lung, this was yourhome, that which was swelling on the pasture ofeach breath you struggled to unearth | how manyhours were lost with the gazania now sharing theafterlife with the woven blanket laced by the bentfingers of your sleeping grandmother who did no...

It is not for you to catch all the fires that find theirflight to Guernica | the cinder settles on the paletteafter being coughed from the lung, this was yourhome, that which was swelling on the pasture ofeach breath you struggled to unearth | how manyhours were lost with the gazania now sharing theafterlife with the woven blanket laced by the bentfingers of your sleeping grandmother who did no...

It is spring in Kyiv, but there’s a cover of snow. It dusts a fat fern tree. A van stands alone, stares at grey buildings, windows with a high cross frame like a just-slipped barricade. And cutting the frame, to the right, are sandbags. “This is what spring looks like,” says President Zelensky, head lifted lightly to the camera. “Spring is harsh.” A cloud slithers behind concrete. Something is...