Central Piedmont Archives: Projects

"Time and Man"

New beginnings begin again

Hand in hand, time and man

Often guided by passion

Passion for acceptance?

Barren earth

Gaea awaits, Ready for man to impregnate

Men abound

In all colors

Stuck in time with each other

Good riddance, dear friend

Here I am, to begin again

Groundbreaking for the construction of Mecklenburg Hall (Van Every) in 1965. AR.0034 - Time Capsule Collection slides.

Here I am

Oh! I’m so happy. 

No! My eyes couldn’t say it any louder

Not just any opportunity

My opportunity. 

Sign me up for generational hope.

Thats right world, get ready cause I’m comin for

YOU!

You thought you could shut me down But

Here I am

Thats right world you take all your henchman

 Doing all your dirty work

Racism, Hatred, Judgement

Thats all you got?

Gone ‘head now. 

Here I am.

Diane Davis (right) flashes a smile for the camera while a student completes paperwork in the former Learning Resources Center. AR.0035 The Spark.

"An Automobiles Mantra"

We've sat here for so long. This lot used to be empty... now we occupy the space. We sit here untouched and unused; not a day goes by when we wish to do our one job. It's funny how humans used the term "getting turned on" to describe a state of sexual arousal, because to us, getting turned on means we can fulfill our purposes. Suddenly, the old, semi-rusted hinges to the driver's side door of the yellow chevy creak open. The old leather seats on the inside cough up dust as the behind of a human plops down. Keys jangle and thrash about as the driver looks for the ignition key to start the lemon up. He slowly inserts the key into the ignition as to not cause any damage to the already old car. The first attempt at starting it the engine coughs a bit as if it wants to start but dies after a few seconds. However, the second go around sends the engine into a fit of energy and producing a cacophony of horrendous noises. After the old contraption has settled down a bit, the gear shift is thrown into reverse and the car slowly begins to roll out of place. After all this time of sitting in that lot with all the other cars, all the hope they had lost, one finally feels fulfillment. The driver takes a right onto a main road out of the lot filled with clunkers. It take more than a minute for the chevy to reach cruising speed, but once it does it's set. After the driver has driven roughly a mile and a half down the main road he takes a right into another lot filled with cars. The primary difference between this new lot and the previous is this: the cars in this lot are ripped to pieces; each car infested with humans pulling parts. The old chevy is driven to the far back right corner of the lot where it is parked and turned off. The purpose of the car has been fulfilled, now it serves a new purpose: giving what it has to offer so others can uphold their purpose.

The Spark Newsletter image of cars parked on the Central campus in the 1970s. There were not as many designated parking lots during this time., AR.0035.

"Larp in Renaissance"

It had started a simple gathering once a year, a meeting between renaissance fans. But then it grew into something more. More people began attending, and bigger events were set up for this. This was where it began. A few people turned into a few hundred, and suddenly a tradition was formed. Once a year for three weekends, everyone would travel back in time, to a simple age of Knights, Lords and ladies. Large ham bones, jousting tournaments and large pints of ale.

Families, couples, and all matters of people come now. Not just medieval enthusiasts, but now people looking to have a fun time out somewhere new that you would not see every day, a unique place straight out out of a book. Children have an experience that they never forget, with little souvenirs that last only a few months, and the adults have the memories of it forever saved in the pictures they took during their time there. Adults buy things that last a bit longer, things that end up in the back of the garage, forgotten after some time, but bringing back all of the memories of the time spent in the one place that only comes around once a year. It makes for planning another trip to be rather exciting.

Something like this can start small, but turn into something bigger than anything that one person or group could imagine. Just like the circus. Something that started with just a few people, turning int something that travels about all over the country. A few guys dressing up in armor and waving around a few wooden swords, now Several dozen guys having formal tournaments to see just who is the strongest in the eyes of the 'king' and 'queen'. Its a tradition born from humble beginnings, a few people acting out a different period in time for fun, to people entertaining the masses by taking them away from the cities and bringing them to a town long gone. 

We see this all the time, just like with large companies, starting from the garage and turning int multi billion dollar companies. This photo could be the very first that was ever taken of it, or perhaps it was simply a photo of some people doing a simple reenactment, but either way, it could have been the inspiration for the actual festival. 

The Spark Newsletter image of two knights on Central Campus, AR.0035.

"Edge of your Seat"

In 1963 Central Piedmont Community College opened up and a year later in 1964 the put together their first basketball team. This team was good it was one of the best ever seen between community colleges. Everybody in town knew that this team could beat all other teams. The only other community college team that they feared was Rowan Cabarrus Community College team. The RCCC team had been around for about 10 years and they won nationals every single year in the community college conference. The guys on the CPCC team knew they were a good team and that they could make it to final. They just didn’t know whether they could beat RCCC.

The team was right. This picture was taken in 1971 and for the previous 6 years the CPCC basketball team had made it to the finals, but every year they ended up in second place against RCCC. Once again, this was Central Piedmont Community College against Rowan Cabarrus Community College. This was the final and once again CPCC was down, but it was the closest they had ever been to almost tying. This was CPCC’s biggest basketball rival. RCCC was the Duke to CPCC’s Chapel Hill. That is how big the rivalry was. All the students were going crazy because the score was 42-43 with CPCC down only one point. There were 2 seconds left on the clock.

1 second left on the clock and CPCC’s star player was going in for a two pointer when he was fouled by a player from RCCC. The bell went off and the crowd went crazy. The RCCC fans were screaming thinking they won, and the CPCC fans screaming calling out a foul. Sure enough it was a foul. The referees called it and the crowd went even crazier. If CPCC made both these free throws they could win the final for the first time. The players lined up and the first free throw was not made. Now the only hope was to tie then to go on to overtime and try and win. The player shot the shot, and that is the exact moment this picture was captured. The players had all lost hoped and they thought this was it. They were thinking second place again for the seventh row in a time. They were wrong. The ball bounced on the backboard and went around the rim and right when it looked like it was going out it tipped in the basket and the crowds went wild. CPCC went on to win during overtime and although this picture may not show all the excitement it goes down in history as a memory of the first time CPCC beat RCCC.

Warm-ups for the Central Piedmont basketball team before a match, 1970s. AR.0036 - Athletics.

"Runaway Dragon"

Paper lanterns gently glow and twist in the gentle breeze, illuminating happy faces as they march down the road. The sound of bamboo flutes bellow in the night air and command the people to dance and cheer. The streets of Chinatown are flooded with reds and golds as the people celebrate with cheer. Of course the renewal and redemption of the new year is cause enough to celebrate. Zhao's heart warms at the deep thwang of the gong. His favorite part of the New Year since he was a little boy was never partying, he had loved watching the mystical dragon lantern dancers with his father, and looked forward to it every year. Tonight would be the first New Year's he spent alone, in a different city than his parents. His family was left back in Hong Kong as he searched for opportunities in New York, a small and quiet city in comparison.

Zhao balanced on a loose cobblestone tile to watch the parade. The lights twirl and multiply in the reflection of the windows as another larger gong was rung somewhere in the distance. The deep crash cascaded down the street in a tidal wave, and alerted everyone that the dragon dancers were to start their march. The little boy in him squealed with glee, but his face only allowed a slight smile.

Dancers in beautiful Pinyin Wǔ Loong costumes embellished in rich red and sparkling gold scales, and lined with fluffy plumes of fur poured out onto the street and began the slither around the parade goers. The dancers hid under the dragon and coordinately controlled the prop with sticks, but when Zhao was little he'd tug on his father's shirt and ask him if the dragons he saw were real. His father would always bestow the same wisdom on him:

"Diãn jīng zhī bī, Zhao. Do you understand?"

To which he would always reply with, "No, tell me the story, Bà" just so he could hear it again.

"There was once such an amazing artist named Zhang SengYao, he painted four Loongs, Chinese dragons, on the wall of a cave and did not draw the eyes. The people who came to view his paintings would be upset that the eyes, the window to the soul were missing. Zhang warned them that if he had painted the eyes on the dragons that they would look so realistic that the painting would come alive and run away. Skeptical, a viewer came and painted eyes onto one of Zhang's dragons to complete it. Right before him the dragon crawled off the wall, roared at the viewer, launched into the air and disappeared over the bamboo forests of China. What makes a dragon real is their eyes, Zhao. Diãn jīng zhī bī, look into their eyes" Little Zhao had looked into the foam eyes of the dragon costume and did not know what his

father meant then.

A bright red Loong, doused in gold flakes of glitter that were sure to pollute the streets for a week spun right in front of Zhao and he looked into its eyes. He felt the connection through the eyes of the mask and felt his father's warmth in his hands. He now understood.

The Spark Newsletter image, AR.0035.

"Obscure"

There is little left

But darkness, Hollow

air and chasms, Depth

where Sun can't follow

Weeping Walls damp

Like dying rivers

Dust thick as sand

Time sent, Time Delivered

But Come closer still

Take Darkness, defy it

Come down into me

Cold and Quiet

The Spark Newsletter image, AR.0035.

"No Title"

Suggestion: For a better reading experience and visualization listen to the song, "Desert Raven" - Johnathan Wilson

In 1978 on a hot and dusty day in San Antonio a college student named Brooks wakes up from a long and much needed nap after finishing a project for his Physics class. When Brooks awakes from his nap he tunes into his favorite radio station for some tunes. Suddenly, the radio host interrupts the song selection with breaking news “Strange weather formations and an imminent eclipse are upon us.” Brooks looks outside his window and sees a ghastly planet shaped figure eclipsing the sun. He grabs his favorite floral button up shirt and phones his friends to meet up at school in the parking lot beside the baseball field. Then he hurriedly packs his pickup truck with some gear to study the odd weather phenomenon developing around San Antonio. Brooks believes intelligent lifeforms exist beyond the stars, his belief is so strong that he has built a dish-like machine to communicate with potential life forms using radiant light in the form of electronic beams. Once he and his friends arrive at the agreed upon location, they see a collection of college students have congregated to the parking lot beside the baseball field. What they see is unlike anything they have seen before.

On this hot and dusty day in San Antonio the heat waves mix with the dusty air and create a glitter-like atmosphere. One of Brooks friends stick out their hand to touch this glitter-like substance, when Brooks friend touches this substance it melts in his hands like a snowflake. When Brooks and his friends look into the sky they see clouds that begin to form into tornadoes and hover in mid-air with a planet-like figure eclipsing the sun. They see that the figure eclipsing the sun seems to be swaying back and forth exposing parts of the sun to the world below providing minimal amounts of sunlight. Brooks then signals to his friends to unload his machine from his pickup truck, once the machine is unloaded they place the machine in the center of the parking lot. Brooks then aims his dish-like machine at the figure eclipsing the sun, Brooks hits a switch to turn on the machine and instantly the machine shoots electromagnetic waves at his strange formation in front of the sun. Immediately a door is unveiled and opened from the bottom of this figure in the sky. A glowing blue sphere floats down towards Brooks and his friends shooting beams of energy at the larger object in the sky.

The glowing blue sphere hovers just above the parking lot and the group of college specters and reveals two figures with swirling faces, horns atop their heads, and four sets of wings each speak to Brooks and his friends using a machine that translates what they’re trying to communicate in English. These creatures tell Brooks and his friends they come in peace and the reason they are here. The reason they are on earth is because their ship is absorbing sunlight to repair itself for a long interstellar journey, they also know that Brooks has many questions and end their communication by saying “Nos redire cito.” In an instant the creatures and their ship disappear into space and the weather returns to normal. Brooks and his friends begin to look at each other with amazement and begin to discuss the meaning of “Nos redire cito.” Brooks sits in silence while his friends discuss the meaning of this phrase just then Brooks tells his friends the meaning as they pack up his machine and begin planning for their next interaction with these creatures.

Students in a creative arts class designed a satellite out of tinfoil and other procured materials. Central Campus, 1972. AR.0036 - Academics

"The Play"

William Shakespeare 

Is what we were taught when we were in school

It is what we teach our students now

And it is what our students will teach their children 

in the many years to come.

The star-crossed lovers,

The power-driven uncle,

And the witches’ prophecy.

There is a comfort in that.

There is safety in knowing that

even though we may not always be here,

These stories will outlive us all. 

And so we reread them now

In a fruitful attempt to understand who we are

And who we might become. 

Tom Vance (left) reviews lines with colleagues in the early 1980s. AR.0036 - Theater

"Photo Poem" 

Iron hearts, beat so strong,

made by Flesh and Blood

The gears all turn and chain pull tight.

Working till the task is done.

The sound of metal whistling and scraping,

making this music all day long

but without the man and his friendly hand

there would be no song.

So when the man goes away and no longer wants to play

the machine will sit and wait,

until the man comes back with his friendly hand

and starts it up again.

A student in what appears to be a video technology class in the early 1980s. AR.0035 - The Spark.

"Creative Response"

Do you remember how the rain felt

Can you see the faces still?

Time has not forgotten the songs and laughter

Even though our connections are waning

The sun shines on the mist after a storm

No anger is forever, only light remains

Oh my friend, come back from the shadows

Do you see the faces? Can you hear the music?

Those were our days, life and joy

The clouds came and took us away

But our dawn rises like the first lyric of a new song

A rainy snapshot of the Central Campus snack bar (Van Every Building) in 1997. AR.0035 - The Spark.

"The Spiral"

Every day after school I head down to the local museum in my town because they have a quiet and comfy study area that I use pretty often. This room is my escape from everyone and everything. It gives off a nice seventy’s vibe with the tye dye rugs and colorful beads hanging off of the see-through curtains. The curtains are purple and when the sun shines through it the whole room has a hazy purple color and makes me relax. The chairs are a soft orange and there are dark blue bean bags that are very nice to take afternoon naps in. Very often I have this room to myself and the times where I do have to share it are never bad. It’s always so peaceful and I cannot find this relaxation anywhere else. It’s never this quiet at school and definitely not at my house. This room is where the magic happens, or at least where I make the magic happen. I write and write and write until I have to go home for supper, and sometimes I even skip supper because I’m so focused on perfecting my art.

As I sit in one of the comfy chairs I find my eyes tracing the interesting piece on the far left of the wall. It’s one of my favorite pieces in the whole museum. It’s so mesmerizing to watch. It’s a spiral looking piece with lines that all combine into one as the spiral goes around and around and around. I drink my hot chamomile tea slowly as I look into the spiral. I have decided that the spiral represents my life. How would I explain my life? Always twisting and turning and changing and thinking I have made a new direction but really I’m constantly going into the same direction over and over again. My life is and always has been a constant spiral. I never know if I’m doing life right. One day I’m getting praised by my teachers and bosses for excellent assignments and great work ethic, but the next day I’m walking down my stairs in my house and my stepmom tells me something is wrong with me or my dad tells me I’m irresponsible. Maybe there is a problem with me and maybe I am a nuisance and a bother to look at and be around, but at this museum I am a different human being. I have power, I have encouragement, I have caring people there, and most importantly, I actually feel like I’m worth something when I sit in that little room and start writing. Even the managers there are fine with me hanging around so much. I can see them look at me with sympathetic eyes as I fall asleep with my head laid down on the table, hot tea dripping from the edge and ink smears all over my hands.

I have decided that whether or not people say I’m doing life right or wrong, life overall is a beautiful thing and just like the spiral art piece, it’s full of twists going around and around. Life will always be full of twists no matter what. Many art critics that write about this museum describe this piece as breathtaking and mesmerizing. I have heard people call this art piece beautiful, creative, unique, and even unusual. There are so many things you could call it, but I call it the roller coaster ride called life. 

A visual arts piece created by an unidentified Central Piedmont student, 1997. AR.0035 - The Spark.

"The Art of Grandmastery"

I sit here thinking about my next move wondering if he is going to take the bait

For the trap I have set to check his mate.

The checkerboard is congealing into one single color on the caramel wood

Making it seem as though my eyes are being misunderstood.

I am playing my own mental game of chess where I can blunder or blitz

While synchronously playing a man who has taken some direct hits.

We are staring at the board but making subtle glances at each other

Trying to psychologically gauge one another

Blaise Pascal once said that chess is the gymnasium of the mind,

And I find myself sore from all the thinking from time to time.

But I come out stronger and wiser after every loss,

Making me a chess player that you do not want to cross.

A chess match in the rec room amongst friends. AR.0035 - The Spark.

"The Soup"

"And what would you like today sir?" The waitress asked. "I'll have the soup of the day." The man said after thinking for a while on what he wanted to order. "Alright, coming right up." The waitress replied as she skated to the kitchen. Plates were stacked up neatly in the kitchen, the other cooks were serving up orders for the other customers. The smell of burgers made with real beef permeated the kitchen along with the smell of dish water that came from the sink as the dishwasher washed the dirty dishes, leaving them spotless as he stacked them up. There was a huge pot full of the soup of the day and the cook that the waitress was looking for was walking towards it. "Babe! I need the soup of the day for table eight." "Alright." He answered as he got a ladle and a clean bowl. He then lifted the pot's lid and got the soup out and poured it into the bowl. He handed it to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek before she blushed. "Quit it Frank, I know we just got married but we're working." "I know that Denise, order up!" He said with a smile before she giggled and skated out of the kitchen with the soup.

With a grin on her face, she skated back to table eight and gave the man his soup. "Would you like anything else?" She asked the man sweetly. "No thank you." He answered. She nodded and wheeled around on her skates before going back to the kitchen. "Golly, that kitchen should be in way better shape!" Another waitress said to Denise. "Why do you think that Candy?" Denise with her red roller skates and shoulder length brunette hair asked her blonde coworker, Candy who wore blue skates. "A customer of mine, old Mrs. Fairfield just asked me for some tea and the kettle isn't warming up." "Again? That kettle causes so much trouble." Denise said as she shook her head before she went to go and turn the jukebox on. As she went to do that she caught a glimpse of two black people, a man and a woman coming inside the diner.

"Hi! We'd like a booth please?" The man asked as he and the woman saw Denise by the door when they entered. Denise's smile faded as she looked at them. When she spoke her sweet and bubbly voice was gone and replaced with a dark and unwelcoming cold tone. "Didn't you read the sign? No coloreds allowed in this diner. Take a hike." She said as she narrowed her eyes at the couple who was obviously married by the looks of it. She then turned and skated back to the kitchen. "Babe? Let's go." The woman said to her husband, with a slightly frightened look on her face as suddenly the whole diner stared at them. "Yeah, let's get out of here." He said as they got back into their car and left the diner.

A snapshot of a culinary student during an class at a local restaurant. Central Piedmont did not acquire a test kitchen on campus until the late-1970s, the Citizens Building. Prior to the Citizens Building, sessions were taught at local restaurants as a way to provide practical experience. AR.0036 - Academics

"Jimmie's"

Scuffed shoes shuffle over cracked concrete,

I take my time strolling down the street.

My destination lies ahead,

and though I’d rather be in bed,

American History begins in an hour

and punctuality is my superpower.

Central Piedmont Community College

is the place I go to get my knowledge,

but when my stomach starts to whine

Jimmie’s is the only place I dine.

Exposed brick makes up the exterior,

and their customer service makes Chick-Fil-A look inferior.

Maybe it’s nurture or my chromosomes,

but Jimmie’s is the only place I truly feel at home.

‘Til the end of time, I’ll sing their praises like a lark,

because to me that faded sign is a beacon in the dark.

Jimmie’s has so many mouth-watering dishes

that if I had a genie, I would use so many wishes.

They even have my favorite: the Southern Omelette.

Jimmie’s food is so good that I’m going into debt.

I glance at the clock, and see my hour’s almost up,

but the waitress offers coffee and I just have to grab a cup.

I stay in my seat, warm mug in my hands,

but when the cup is empty, I finally have to stand.

I pay the check and walk out the door,

but leaving just leaves me wanting more.

Scuffed shoes shuffle over cracked concrete,

I take my time strolling down the street.

But then a thought brings dimples to my cheeks.

I’ll just come back again next week.

The original Jimmie's Restaurant on Elizabeth Avenue, Charlotte, NC. Today, this location is the lawn of the Overcash building. 1997. AR.0035 - The Spark.

"The Chance"

Here lies: the panning of the flag of the United States

Here lies: a college campus, CPCC, one occupied with much debate

Of whether to protest higher tuition costs or parking garage rates

Or whether to believe in larger issues like Roe v Wade

Here lies: the spreading of the Red, White, Blue

Here lies: students, faculty, and staff- with much to do

Eager to change the world, with the many skills they’re about to extend

To people who will not have the opportunity to do so or much money to spend

Opportunity is the only thing that separates anyone

The only thing that separates us is opportunity.

The original Learning Resources Center in January, 1981. The crowd is celebrating the release of the U.S. hostages in Iran; a 20' x 30' flag is furled over the top of the building. AR.0036 - Students

"Point A"

The sun shone brightly down into the courtyard. A gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming spring flowers through the breezeway. For many, tomorrow was graduation day. A small gathering of students and teachers collected at the stone bench. Each of them had a smile written on their face, but simultaneously a look of firm resolve. Centered on the bench was Mrs. Linearius palming through a stack of papers. She pulled out a pen from behind her right ear and looked up at the circle of students.

            “Well, this is it class! Today is your last day at Central Piedmont Community College.” said Mrs. Linearius with a warm smile on her face. “Your hard work and dedication have come to a culmination. Tomorrow, you will walk across the stage and receive your degree. Afterward, some of you may continue your studies at another college or some of you may enter the workforce. Whichever path you choose, it starts here - at Point A. As you know, Point A leads to Point B. Point B will be different for each one of you, however, in this moment you all share Point A. I hold here in my hands all the great work you produced this semester. Short stories, poems, sketches – all written from the passion instilled in your hearts. Each work shines in its own unique way from the creative energy you poured into it. I can see reflected in the words of each piece many of your struggles, your joys, your tragedies, and all the life experiences that led up to this day. No matter your background, your hard work has led you here and you all stand on the same ground – Point A. Here is my parting advice to you. Embrace your dreams, chase furiously after the life that you want to live. When you arrive, don’t stop at Point B – head on to point C, D, E, all the way to Z and beyond. Hold your head up high and charge forward into the front lines of life knowing full well that you are prepared for the challenge and all that awaits.”

            A look of determination shone through their eyes. The students stood up with their teachers, embraced one another, and said their goodbyes. The sun began to sink down behind the main campus building leaving only a dim light in the courtyard. The teachers returned to their classrooms and each student went on their own respective way, leaving Point A and heading on to their own Point B, wherever it may be.

English instructor, Irene Honeycutt (second from left on bench), teaches her class outside on the Central Campus quad, 1997. AR.0036 - Academics.

"Untitled" 

Thankfully, I’m close to finishing my shift at work for the day. Commuting to work has become difficult since my car broke down. I haven’t been able to get it fixed since my money has been primarily going to family, helping them through a bad situation. Not that it is comparable to their problems, but the reliance on public transportation to get to my full-time job has become difficult. What’s more, I am also a full-time student. My situation was a little bit more favorable when I made the commitment to finish my degree, but shit happens. So now, four nights out of my five-day work week, I have to add a trip to school to my daily commute. It’s not bad, its very relaxing actually. The thirty-minute bus ride allows me to collect myself and decompress after an eight-hour workday. I enjoy being a passenger and looking at the world around me, something you really can’t do when you are the driver. There isn’t much talking among the passengers, which always seemed odd to me. You load a group of people in a confined area where you have no option but to just sit, you think passing the time would be catalyst to start conversation; but not really. Most are lost in some book or vibing to some song in their headphones.

It’s the riders that aren’t normally on this commute that find the need to speak. They always have some appointment or grievance that has put them in the presence of us normal riders that makes them feel they must explain. The person they are aiming their story to usually just nods with a slight smile, before returning to their lost state. The bus doesn’t go the entire length of my trip. It goes as far as two blocks away from my school, so I have to walk the remainder of the way. Again, not a complaint, there are many people walking this route.

There is an issue that befalls the walkers along this path once you reach the sidewalk across from the street from the school. There is no crosswalk. The traffic going along the four-lane road occasionally comes to a stop when enough of us have accumulated to allow us to pass but, the timeframe of when this will happen is never guaranteed. It seems obvious with all the foot traffic in the area, the city would put one there. The six months I’ve had to make this trip, the road still lacks the white painted lines to allow us safe passage across the street. I’m surprised there hasn’t been any tragic incident or close calls. I’m sure if there had been any, there would be a crosswalk there. This only briefly halts my trip to school though; I always arrive to class on time. Hopefully it won’t be bad tonight and I can get to class with no issues. Somebody should probably say something to the school to suggest putting a crosswalk somewhere on that road before something bad happens.

Pedestrians crossing Elizabeth Avenue before a crosswalk was approved. AR.0036 - Central Campus

"Turn, Twist, Spin"

Thoughts spin through my head with no release

The mechanical rumbling of gears refuse to cease.

Tumbling like a washing machine set on high

These images flash and continue to pass by.

Spinning crazily out of my control

So desperately I wish to tell a soul.

Secrets buried deep beneath the surface

Stop making me feel so nervous!

Take these visions away from my dreams

They are so much worse than they really seem.

The past must be left behind and forgotten

Taken to the grave as we grow old and rotten.

A visual arts piece created by an unidentified Central Piedmont student, 1997. AR.0035 - The Spark.