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Artist Info
Name: Julianna Belle
Location: Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Piece Title: Requiem De La Naissance De Janvier
Piece History: This was written my senior year of high school, I believe, and it has always been what I consider the best thing I have
ever written, and it really means a lot to me.
Medium: Writing (prose)
Artist History: I started drawing when I was about three, and I have never taken a lesson in art in my life. My mom always has to
comment on how "amazing" this is, heheh. I don't remember when exactly I started writing, but pseudo-creativity has always come
naturally to me. I love just about all forms of art, whether I can do them or not, so I just try to do my best with what I am capable of.
Personal Comments: This piece is just so incredibly important to me... I don't really know what else to say about that.

Requiem De La Naissance De Janvier
She was born in the dead of winter. January, cold and heartless. The snow fell casually upon the Mermaid, captured from the ocean and
made to breathe oxygen. Because oxygen is how it's done here. It's amazing what you can do when you have no choice.

The Mermaid had brought forth a child, on this day, the fifteenth day of the first month. Atop the virgin snow, a Dead Star was born. The
blood of new birth soiled the fresh, white ground. The Mermaid breathed, for that it what she had learned to do, and closed her eyes.
She held the Dead Star close.

The Man warmed the Mermaid against the cold. Dark and tragic, the Man had fished her from the sea. And now she had given forth the first
of his progeny. The Man's dark eyes gleamed. So did the Dead Star's. Behold, she has his eyes.

The Mermaid came from the ocean, which was reflected in her eyes. A right Pacific and left Atlantic sparkled and shined from her face. She
was plain but beautiful. She swished her tail from tragedy into disaster. She caught the Man's worm to escape the nasty Sea Witch,
who bore her. She was lost under the water, disconnected from the stars. So she fingered the Man's fish net with curiosity, unaware of
what was in store for her. By the time she reached the air it was too late.

The Mermaid had now met snow. Cold and heartless, oh January. The perfect month. The virgin snow enveloped the Mermaid and her young,
and together they drifted.

The Man held the Dead Star suspiciously. He looked back into his own eyes in her face, and the moon wept. For the dark Man with the dark
eyes had a dark past, which would set the tone for the future of the Dead Star.

The Dead Star cried. She cried for January, cold and heartless. She cried for her eyes, weeping against the moon. She cried for the
Mermaid, who was now trapped on the surface. And she cried for the Man, who would taint so many lives. She cried into the winter
night, on this night of all nights, the fifteenth day of the first month.

The Mermaid held her daughter close. The Dead Star sparkled and faded. And they called her "Julianna."