August 7, 2021
From the artist: Thoughts we often toy with alone, they are ideas, potential tools for building new connections. These provide the fuel for roads of infinite universal paths. It is this neuroplastic nature of our existence that brings me joy.
Anwesha Banerjee
Epsom Girls Grammar School
From the artist: What brings me joy is my grandmother. In this image, I feel as if I can see her story written on her skin, the story of herself, of my family, and myself. I think it captures her knowledge and being, bringing me joy.
Maddie van Leeuwen
Diocesan School for Girls
August 6, 2021
“Seven Wishes”
From the artist: My painting, “Seven Wishes” denotes the long process of painting. My aim for perfection, in this process, is what gives me joy and satisfaction. The seven figures of myself conveys the notion of creation; with seven being a number of completeness and perfection.
Logan Bow
Auckland Boys Grammar
“Three as one” – Acrylic on canvas, 12 x16.
From the artist: My family brings me joy through their love, comfort, support and encouragement which help me reach for beautiful things, like the stars in the night sky. They inspire me to shine and to keep going even when things become challenging. I am so lucky and grateful to have them in my life. It’s not material items or temporary friends/relationships that bring true joy, family does.
Dina Aziz
Carmel College
From the artist: My painting represents childhood imagination. As children, we could easily slip into make-believe worlds. Being creative was such an easy and joyous feeling to achieve. My childhood was full of joy, and looking back on memories, these nostalgic emotions remind me of that unique feeling.
Hannah Thompson
Botany Downs Secondary College
What brings you joy? For me its the small things in life. My friends and family as well as the nature around me!! Memories is another thing that brings me joy.
Stella Bilger
Baradene College
The joys of a goodbye
Gentle drops descend as she
gasps for air,
each breath sings a shaky melody.
The sun rises to bid farewell;
her carriage awaits,
distant, beyond the sheltered gates.
Her body trembles with joy as she steals
a final look at the piles of bricks,
which had witnessed her blossom.
The tall buildings stop her from
crumbling, commanding her aching heart
to keep beating with pride.
The wind whispers empty promises of
return, pricking at the gallons of emotions
gently tucked within her armoured skin.
Kia kaha — they chant,
but her face was already misshapen. Carved by a river of tears.
To the place that shaped her
into a woman —
how could she ever say adieu?
Zainab Bandukwala
Epsom Girls Grammar School
Years had passed since she’d held her violin. A beauty, having evaded the wearing of time, streamlined from years of daily practice—now baggage in the closet, collecting dust.
Her fingers slid seamlessly into the bow hold engraved into memory. Gazing at the aged patina on the violin, she reminisced.
The thrill of mastering—conquering—passages.
Bowing, as thunderous applause and whoops of admiration filled the great halls she’d once played in.
Her eyes traced the grain on the centuries-old wood as she recalled how her childhood self had powered through demonically difficult pieces, wanting to grow up faster than everybody else.
She breathed in the familiar musty scent of her violin. Waves of nostalgia crashed over her, a flood demolishing a house of cards, tears overflowing, overwhelming, as her chest panged with… what?
She hoisted the instrument onto her shoulder and began to play.
It had been a taxing, arduous past, with tears and discarded friendships, the stench of failure still stinging.
_____But hearing the music again, how it was bringing colour back into her silenced world, she realised what the familiar feeling in her chest was.
It was soaring—like her lyrical passages and melodic solos of worlds past.
It was joy.
Esther Oh
Diocesan School for Girls
Note from Author: A written piece on my joy—of getting out my violin and creating sounds that shine like jewels when you hold them up in the light. Music, my lodestar when times get tough and the darkness is beckoning. My violin, which cushions my love and pillows my joy when I play.
Crafted by the angels, godsent
He cannot walk. He cannot speak.
A heart so pure, so innocent
It is the little joys that he seeks.
A simple tune,
Causing joy to flood into his world like a typhoon.
Calling his name,
Resulting in joy you can capture and frame.
Giving my hand,
Triggering his smile to grow and expand.
Piece by piece, I sculpt his wings, allowing him to soar through the air.
One bright light shines upon many pieces of myself; chandelier.
Staring into the mirror,
His radiance stealing the shimmer of the sunlight.
I reconsider,
A lesson being taught, raising my spirit o so bright.
Joy is sewn into the fabric of our worlds,
Bundles of joy buried everywhere, pearls.
We all possess the maps to these treasures,
Leading to joy of immense measure.
But be weary, the compass is within, only shall we discover it first.
With this in mind, we will traverse.
Much like my friend, living unrehearsed.
His wings now full of feathers,
Equipped for all weathers.
I rest my tools,
For my heart shines bright like a jewel.
Mudita.
Gurmehar Bajwa
Ormiston Senior College
From the author:
The poem name is Muditā. (Sanskrit) means joy; that comes from delighting in other people’s well-being. This poem is about my close friend who has diverse needs. Over the years, I have been with him, helping him grow and live to the fullest. For me, his joy and journey bring me joy. From him, I have also learned a few important lessons in life about joy, which I think we can all learn from. We should take pleasure in the little joy’s that life brings to us. We can all experience joy, for it is everywhere if we open our hearts and minds to it.
November 7, 2019
All photos from the 2019 KEECT Awards are available to view online thanks to Timeless Images
View the 2019 KEECT Awards Gallery >
