Freedom Arts Magazine

Founded by Robert Hook, class of 2012, and under the direction of faculty sponsor Mr. Pat Booker, Freedom Arts Magazine is published annually. This student-produced publication showcases the written and visual talents of Upper School artists. Editions are free and can be picked up at the front office or downloaded from the link below.

If you are interested in participating or submitting articles, photos, or art, please contact Ms. Eseo at ceseo@winston-sa.org

Freedom Arts Magazine - Spring 2019

The Bridge by Evan McGinnis

I opened my eyes to see a large bridge across a chasm that eclipsed any I had ever seen. I looked at myself to see sandals and robes that clung to my skin. I turned behind to see a large portal of sorts stretching out of sight into the heavens. I turned back to the bridge. I was made of the finest stones and was supported by large pillars of Earth that refused to collapse into the chasm below. I reached my hand out to the portal but stopped. Something about it made me feel like I wasn’t supposed to use immaculate. I continued to walk slowly along the bridge. As my sandals touched the elegant stones for the tenth time. I saw someone walking towards me. I stopped as the person kept walking to me. The figure was an elderly woman that felt familiar but I couldn’t place it. “What are you doing on this bridge dear boy,” the woman gently spoke. “Something calls me there,” I spoke pointing to the immaculate thing in the distance. The woman smiled and put her hand on my mind. “It is not your time dear boy. I am here to go in your stead,” she said as we wrapped hands. “Why would you walk in my place?” I asked. She simply smiled at me. “Because you have too much of your life ahead of you dear boy, and that place is one you can never return from. When you come back, I will be expecting you to have tried to make a great man out of yourself, she said. I embraced her and began my walk back but stopped. “Who are you miss?” I asked. “Your grandmother my dear.  When you see your father tell him I sent you back to him,” she said as she walked towards the distant side of the bridge. I reached the portal and heard the beeping of machines as my father came and sat near me. “That’s where grandma sat,” I said as I shut my eyes into slumber.

Please click here to download the PDF for the Freedom Arts Magazine Spring 2019 edition

Click HERE to see past issues.