By Darcy Foote
“I view it as an expression of my emotions. I just let loose what I am feeling onto the page.”
Isabel Drouin started 9th grade, her first year at Collingwood, in 2017. Since then, she has taken a variety of courses in a wide range of strands but has discovered particular favorites in Philosophy and Law. Philosophy with Mr. Sword deepened Isabel’s understanding of the world and herself, and Ms. Mulder’s voice of justice in Law class pushed her to question life in the present day. Despite never taking a creative writing class, Isabel expresses deep creativity through the written word. She chooses to pursue creative writing in her extracurriculars, such as in the Creative Writing Club and as the Editor for Ad Verum’s Imagination section.
Isabel’s work, more specifically, her poetry, creatively weaves together emotion and life to form exquisite results. Her uses of repetition in her pieces “Autumn” and “Proximity” keep the reader reaching for the next line while simultaneously savoring each passing sentence. Isabel stated in our interview that writing for her is an escape from real life. Through her work, Isabel creates entirely new worlds and allows the reader to explore the infinite universe constructed from her words. Writing is a way Isabel expresses herself and her emotions. She clears her head by ritualistically letting out everything she is feeling into the paper. This comes through in her creative work as each piece carries such profound emotion. Simply hearing Isabel discuss the reasons behind her adoration of writing is enough to inspire anyone to pick up a pen and paper and attempt to compose something of equal beauty.
Moulding and shaping sentences from emotion has not always infatuated Isabel Drouin as it does today. She joined the school newspaper in 8th Grade at her previous school, and this kickstarted her journey with written work. When Isabel was 13 years old, she wrote for fun about her life in Canada. Then one day, a friend who had read some of her work suggested trying a fictional approach to writing just to change things up. From here, Isabel dove into the portal that is creative writing and never fully re-entered back into the world of nonfiction. Isabel’s early development in writing is a true testament to the hidden passions we can discover when we pursue something new.
Any artist can attest to the fact that their work will indubitably evolve and change over time. Isabel’s writing is no exception. She describes her early style as “the whole ‘plight of being a teenager’ crap.” At first, her writing was infused with angst, words of great stress and unease filled her page. To be expected, over time Isabel’s style developed into one that is substantially more optimistic. Her style developed in correspondence with those who inspired her. Sylvia Plath’s intense and emotional works, Ariel and The Bell Jar, influenced and gave depth to Isabel’s own writing style. Another literary work that rouses Isabel’s passion for writing is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. Aside from within the endless worlds of books, Isabel becomes inspired by the world around her. Politics, daily life, TV shows, schoolwork, everything that shapes her life is also what shapes her writing as it is how she expresses her emotions.
Art is naturally woven through Isabel’s life in other forms aside from creative writing. She is very fond of painting and pursues this in visual art class at Collingwood. From here, Isabel plans to take AP Studio Art in the future to develop her art further. It is through painting in addition to writing where Isabel expresses herself. Additionally, though she does not consider herself an actress, theater, and the inner workings of a production have always fascinated Isabel’s artistic mind.
When asked the advice she would give to other aspiring writers, Isabel bluntly but accurately acknowledged the existence of flaws within every piece of writing. “Some stuff is going to be bad, like really bad, like how-did-I-write-this-a-fourth-grade-could-do-this bad. And That's ok.” Isabel beautifully accepts the idea that nothing you create will be perfect, but with each time you do it, you step a little bit closer to your idea of “perfection.” Her overall advice is to never give up on your writing because, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so if you think that it is bad, it might not be. It might be great.
“I view it as an expression of my emotions. I just let loose what I am feeling onto the page.”
Isabel Drouin started 9th grade, her first year at Collingwood, in 2017. Since then, she has taken a variety of courses in a wide range of strands but has discovered particular favorites in Philosophy and Law. Philosophy with Mr. Sword deepened Isabel’s understanding of the world and herself, and Ms. Mulder’s voice of justice in Law class pushed her to question life in the present day. Despite never taking a creative writing class, Isabel expresses deep creativity through the written word. She chooses to pursue creative writing in her extracurriculars, such as in the Creative Writing Club and as the Editor for Ad Verum’s Imagination section.
Isabel’s work, more specifically, her poetry, creatively weaves together emotion and life to form exquisite results. Her uses of repetition in her pieces “Autumn” and “Proximity” keep the reader reaching for the next line while simultaneously savoring each passing sentence. Isabel stated in our interview that writing for her is an escape from real life. Through her work, Isabel creates entirely new worlds and allows the reader to explore the infinite universe constructed from her words. Writing is a way Isabel expresses herself and her emotions. She clears her head by ritualistically letting out everything she is feeling into the paper. This comes through in her creative work as each piece carries such profound emotion. Simply hearing Isabel discuss the reasons behind her adoration of writing is enough to inspire anyone to pick up a pen and paper and attempt to compose something of equal beauty.
Moulding and shaping sentences from emotion has not always infatuated Isabel Drouin as it does today. She joined the school newspaper in 8th Grade at her previous school, and this kickstarted her journey with written work. When Isabel was 13 years old, she wrote for fun about her life in Canada. Then one day, a friend who had read some of her work suggested trying a fictional approach to writing just to change things up. From here, Isabel dove into the portal that is creative writing and never fully re-entered back into the world of nonfiction. Isabel’s early development in writing is a true testament to the hidden passions we can discover when we pursue something new.
Any artist can attest to the fact that their work will indubitably evolve and change over time. Isabel’s writing is no exception. She describes her early style as “the whole ‘plight of being a teenager’ crap.” At first, her writing was infused with angst, words of great stress and unease filled her page. To be expected, over time Isabel’s style developed into one that is substantially more optimistic. Her style developed in correspondence with those who inspired her. Sylvia Plath’s intense and emotional works, Ariel and The Bell Jar, influenced and gave depth to Isabel’s own writing style. Another literary work that rouses Isabel’s passion for writing is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. Aside from within the endless worlds of books, Isabel becomes inspired by the world around her. Politics, daily life, TV shows, schoolwork, everything that shapes her life is also what shapes her writing as it is how she expresses her emotions.
Art is naturally woven through Isabel’s life in other forms aside from creative writing. She is very fond of painting and pursues this in visual art class at Collingwood. From here, Isabel plans to take AP Studio Art in the future to develop her art further. It is through painting in addition to writing where Isabel expresses herself. Additionally, though she does not consider herself an actress, theater, and the inner workings of a production have always fascinated Isabel’s artistic mind.
When asked the advice she would give to other aspiring writers, Isabel bluntly but accurately acknowledged the existence of flaws within every piece of writing. “Some stuff is going to be bad, like really bad, like how-did-I-write-this-a-fourth-grade-could-do-this bad. And That's ok.” Isabel beautifully accepts the idea that nothing you create will be perfect, but with each time you do it, you step a little bit closer to your idea of “perfection.” Her overall advice is to never give up on your writing because, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so if you think that it is bad, it might not be. It might be great.
Proximity, by Isabel Drouin
I open my eyes
Look out my window
Another year
Another day
With people, I don’t really like
With fake smiles
Don’t be impolite
Proximity is why we’re friends
Not because you like me
But because there was no one else
Everyone already paired up
Late to the game
Were what’s left
Stuck together
If we lived in different towns
In different cities
In different countries
In different lives
And we found each other
Would we be friends or foes
Allies or enemies
Would you be here
By my side
If someone else asked you to sit with them
Would you be here
If there were a couple hundred more
If there was just one more
Would you be here
I wasn’t your first choice
But you’re still stuck with me
Were partners
Put together by the seating plan
Put together by proximity
So why can’t I just smile
And pretend you want to be here
Why can’t I just be happy that you are here
Before your gone
Why am I stuck thinking that you would rather be anywhere else
Then right here
With me
That you would rather be beside someone else
Than beside me
Another day
another year
You smile that fake smile
You reserve the real ones for your real friends
And I am stuck pretending that that’s your real smile
When we both know it isn’t
Another day
another year
you laugh your fake laugh
That couldn’t cut the tension even if it tried
And I’m stuck pretending that it did
Another day
another year
With your interest your fake interest
While you’re seething behind my back
Rolling your eyes
And I’m stuck pretending That you care
When we both know you don’t
I wasn’t your first choice
I wasn’t even your last
I was your evenifyouwerethelastpersononearthIwouldratherdie choice
yet here we are
And I open my eyes
And Lookout my window
And the years blur together
And the days march on
With my friends
My proximity friends
I open my eyes
Look out my window
Another year
Another day
With people, I don’t really like
With fake smiles
Don’t be impolite
Proximity is why we’re friends
Not because you like me
But because there was no one else
Everyone already paired up
Late to the game
Were what’s left
Stuck together
If we lived in different towns
In different cities
In different countries
In different lives
And we found each other
Would we be friends or foes
Allies or enemies
Would you be here
By my side
If someone else asked you to sit with them
Would you be here
If there were a couple hundred more
If there was just one more
Would you be here
I wasn’t your first choice
But you’re still stuck with me
Were partners
Put together by the seating plan
Put together by proximity
So why can’t I just smile
And pretend you want to be here
Why can’t I just be happy that you are here
Before your gone
Why am I stuck thinking that you would rather be anywhere else
Then right here
With me
That you would rather be beside someone else
Than beside me
Another day
another year
You smile that fake smile
You reserve the real ones for your real friends
And I am stuck pretending that that’s your real smile
When we both know it isn’t
Another day
another year
you laugh your fake laugh
That couldn’t cut the tension even if it tried
And I’m stuck pretending that it did
Another day
another year
With your interest your fake interest
While you’re seething behind my back
Rolling your eyes
And I’m stuck pretending That you care
When we both know you don’t
I wasn’t your first choice
I wasn’t even your last
I was your evenifyouwerethelastpersononearthIwouldratherdie choice
yet here we are
And I open my eyes
And Lookout my window
And the years blur together
And the days march on
With my friends
My proximity friends