“Make sure you eat well, sweetie! You have a big day ahead,” Emily’s mom said while pouring her a cup of tea. She beamed like this was something that should make Emily jump for joy, and not turn her stomach in the knots it was in. Emily glazed at her food and just the thought of eating it made her nauseous. She felt sick. “I'm not hungry,” she said, and her mother gave her a knowing smile. “Don't be nervous, honey, the Message will shape your future!” Like that wasn’t anything to be even remotely nervous about. She was only ten, but Emily was already good at slowing her breathing, running her fingertips together in a familiar pattern to calm her nerves. “Sure mom,” she mumbled, turning her fork over and over. “Anyway, I better get going.” It was an hour before she needed to go in for her Message, but she had to be alone.

It was a Saturday night in December, at one am, and Jane had finals tomorrow. Instead of studying, though, she could be found under a mound of blankets, eating chips and watching old Wheel of Fortune episodes on YouTube. She used to watch them on her grandfather’s lap when she was little. Her grandfather passed a year ago, died of a lung infection, and the Wheel of Fortune episodes were comforting, a piece of him forever with her. So that’s what she was doing to calm her exam nerves.

Mushrooms, the fruit of the fungi that grow in the ground below us, are practically a work of art by themselves. They can come in a wide variety of shapes and colors; some mushrooms are even bioluminescent. However, we humans have found a way of turning Mother Nature’s gift into something even more. How, you may ask? Mycosculpting.

I was driving home with my dad recently, and we ended up stopping for gas. When we did, he got out to fill the car and I walked around, having seen the pay phone above. Most people would look at it with aversion, seeing an outdated piece of trash, and a vandalized one at that.

Graffiti is one of many controversies in the art community. Is it a valid form of expression, done with technique and therefore art? Or is it crude, mindless vandalism from the younger generation?