Autumn Jefferson
Pronouns: she/her/hers
Autumn is a rising third-year majoring in Architecture on a pre-professional track. Her interests as a designer are driven by an appreciation for systematic and organic creation, a love of art, as well as an enthusiasm for hands-on production.
More Articles Featuring this Artist
We’re an interesting pair: two people tired from the week, yet talking about writing on our night off. But for Jordan Coleman... writing is a passion—an art form and a creative muscle she likes to stretch in her free time. And so, on our night off, we talk about fantasy, poetry, and vulnerability.
As writers, we cannot leave little details like this alone. We are the instigators of the world, attributing meaning to everything. Rightfully so, because this is how we get to the heart of issues that matter. Cheyenne uncovers the lingering truth to a mysterious break up that leaves you wondering…what happened there?
It might seem “obvious” to Eryn that she wouldn’t get the prestigious internship, but anyone familiar with her work knows she’s going places.
It’s 3:30 p.m. on Friday, January 12, 2024. I dress in a black and pink cropped sweater, and listen to my newly created “reneé rapp” playlist as I softly draw on my eyeliner, preparing for the life-changing event I am about to experience.
I am fifteen years old and sitting in my dining room. I am painting a mask from Michaels for a school project on A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
I walk down Colonial Ave. on my way to my favorite coffee shop, Cafe Stella. They’re open from 6:30 a.m. — 10 p.m. every weekday, so I’m shocked to see that they’re closed at 11am on a Wednesday.
Walking into a dimly lit room, bass vibrations rattling the windows, I look around—the women are in uniform. So am I. The year is 2023. I’m in a small “going out top” matched with straight leg jeans, and for personal flair, my black combat boots.
Once a year, in the midst of the holiday oasis of Thanksgiving, my immediate family stops for one, pumpkin-pie-scented moment.
Dear beloved,
I remember the day I first laid eyes on you. A little tuxedo kitten, your fur was a blend of black and white, and your paws looked like you had just stepped in fresh snow.
The crazy combination of emojis I’ve saved beside your name in my phone pops up, and I instantly smile. It’s a Facetime call, and when I answer, your face lights up my entire screen.
My family has a long tradition of creating handmade gifts for each other.