Every month, NAHS and Pudong Press come together to present a theme to members, who contribute artwork and writing based on each month’s topic. October’s theme was “Orange”. Please enjoy the works presented below.

Artist Statements and Creative Works Below:

Joyce Zhang: This art piece captures osmanthus flowers drifting into roadside ponds, with the tree’s silhouette mirrored on the water. Orange osmanthus blossoms are often rarer and more mildly scented than their golden counterparts. Growing up, these flowers perfumed the autumn air of my hometown, enveloping my childhood in fragrance.

Oliver Tang: The theme for this month is “orange”. Since the word “orange” can mean either the color or the fruit, I thought it would be funny if I just did a study of an orange instead of making a deep and symbolic artwork that represented “orange”. The artwork was made digitally, and the program I used was Procreate. I challenged myself, using only the Nikko Rull brush on Procreate, and made a speed painting of an orange on a single layer.

Mimi Yao: In this piece, I decided to draw watercolor fish in an unusual setting to represent the theme “Orange”. This piece was interesting to create because I had to show elements such as the movement of the fish and the depth of the water. Although I mainly used warm tones to add more emotions and playfulness to teh piece, I also added cool tones to create contrast.

Faye Shao : When I saw the title “orange”, a song called DAHLIA came to my mind. This song is about the most sincere and passionate love. Dahlia is the flower of commitment and honesty, and one of the lyrics of the song is “I chose to love you anyway”. This kind of love can easily burn itself out, but I still wanted to express this beautiful but dangerous love. So I drew the outline of a woman’s face. The left side of the face is in a burning state. The right face has eyes surrounded by dahlias, symbolizing strong determination. There is also the body in profile indicating steadfastness. The painting has a dark blue background with a contrasting orange body.

Poem by Ray Sun:

In a land of tales, where shadows convene,
An orange feline, radiant and serene.
With fur that glows, like amber in the light,
It shines so bright, a truly wondrous sight.

Resting on stones that the sun’s rays kiss,
Relishing moments of pure sunlit bliss.
Eyes that sparkle, like the night’s starry dome,
This majestic creature, claiming this place its home.

Though other cats may prowl and hiss and spat,
No one shall compare thyself to this orange cat.
So let us praise, this sun-kissed feline one,
For in its glow, it rivals even ray sun.

And Finally, Creative Prose by Arielle Wang:

I started taking night walks because of the nice breeze that drifts by every night. Unlike sultry summer nights, autumn evenings are accompanied with refreshing breezes that put me at ease.  

Oftentimes, autumn nights are silent, so silent I can hear the branches rustling to the faint breeze. So silent that I close my eyes and stand there to wait for the next zephyr to caress my cheeks.  

Then, I walk on into October.  

Towards the end of October, I took a walk on the East side of my compound. I usually walk on the West side for the silence, but that day I yearned for a whiff of October, of Southern China’s fall. Unlike all other autumn days, there were no gentle breezes. There was a patchy drizzle, and a faint aroma of osmanthus flowers wafted in the evening gust.  

The more steps I took away from my usual path, the aroma grew more and more intense. One, two, three…twenty steps away, I spotted a few specks of orange under the streetlamp.  

The orange shone out in the inky shadows, some had fallen to the ground, drifting with the rainwater into the drains, and as the drizzle grew to a light shower, more and more flowers fell. Some to the puddles on the ground, some seemed to gravitate towards me. As I took a long breath, the ambrosial scent cleared up the noises in my head. The rain was getting too big and swept entire patches of flowers from the tree at a time, so I turned home.  

It hasn’t rained since that osmanthus shower, nor have I turned away from my usual path since that October day. 

Now, I hear the rustling branches again.