Cosplayer Sandra Ray

A lot of people know about the very first piece he did when he left the post which was the The Problem We All Live With which depicts Ruby Bridges walking to school under federal protection.

But I don’t think enough people know about Murder in Mississippi which depicts three real civil rights activists who were murdered by the Ku Klux Klan and sherriffs. The magazine ran the sketch instead of the finished piece because they felt it had a more striking statement to accompany the article. Norman Rockwell would finish that version after publication which is here

Rockwell’s legacy is sanitized because he decided to maintain his job at the Post for so long despite his frustrations with not being able to express himself. The civil rights movement was just his final straw to change what he could with the little time he had left. Look magazine received a lot of hate for Rockwell painting these as well.

Another favorite piece of mine is The Right to Know which depicts an integrated populace questioning their government. In 1968, the year of Vietnam and the year the Fair Housing Act only just got signed in months prior:

But I think it’s important to include the caption Rockwell originally wrote for the piece as well. I think it represents how a 74 year old Rockwell felt about the America he believed in and the people in it:

likely the most famous picture of a Thanksgiving dinner ever painted and you see it all the time.

What you may not know is its actual title

“Freedom From Want” it’s a part of a series of 4, including this now famous meme

“Freedom of Speech” These paintings were illustrations of FDR’s “Four Freedoms” speech where The President laid out a vision that would become what the Allies were fighting for in WWII universal human rights that became a part of the UN charter.

So this homey American Thanksgiving scene was also a bold statement that no one in the world should go hungry

Solaria’s Story Part 10 : a random encounter 3/5

Max: “Oh, I don’t know about that. From where I’m standing, you look like someone who’s out of options. Loud mouth and angry- you need a real man to put you in your place.”

Before she even realized what she was doing, her hand shot up, the slap echoing like a crack of thunder over the bar’s low hum. His head turned with the force of it, and when he looked back at her, his expression was a mix of shock and indignation.

The entire room seemed to pause for a moment, eyes flicking toward the commotion.

Max started to open his mouth to respond, but one glare from her over her shoulder shut him up.

With that, she grabbed her bag, ready to make a dramatic exit. But, in her slightly tipsy state, her footing betrayed her. She stumbled, nearly toppling over.

His hand caught her arm before she hit the ground.

Max: “Wait I didn’t mean for—,”

Solaria: “Touch me, talk to me, or even look at me again, and you’ll regret it,” she said, her voice low but razor-sharp.

Solaria didn’t care if she’d just made a scene. She didn’t care if he’d stew in his bruised ego for the rest of the night. All she cared about was getting as far away from that disgusting excuse for a human being as possible.

Read Solaria’s Story Part 10 (x)

Solaria Story Part 10 - a random encounter 2/5

The night was young, and the bar buzzed with high energy. Solaria stood in line for another drink, casually swirling the last sip in her glass. It was her third round at the watering hole, and she had zero plans of making it her last.

A loud, belligerent voice pierced through the chatter.

Max: “Bet you’ve been working all night to catch someone’s attention. Good news—you just did.”

Sol: “Here’s a thought: wash the grease out of your hair, ease up on the body spray, and maybe—just maybe—stand in line like everyone else. Wild concept, I know.”

Max: “Ever heard of taking a compliment? I figured I’d save you the trouble of pretending not to notice me.”

Solaria’s patience was thinning by the second. She crossed her arms, glaring at him.

Sol: “I don’t need saving. Sorry - not sorry - you’re not half as charming as you think you are.”

Max: “Oh, I don’t know about that. From where I’m standing, you look like someone who’s out of options. Loud mouth and angry- you need a real man to put you in your place.”

Before she even realized what she was doing, her hand shot up, the slap echoing like a crack of thunder over the bar’s low hum. His head turned with the force of it, and when he looked back at her, his expression was a mix of shock and indignation.

The entire room seemed to pause for a moment, eyes flicking toward the commotion.

Solaria’s story Part 9 - A random encounter

After finding out Ingie was entertaining other prospects, feeling at her lowest, Solaria found a new prospect too.

Transcript:

Sol: “just wanted to be free of my limerence for Ingie.”

Nina: “So, you thought curing your feelings for Ingie involved collecting random side quests at the club? Do you even know his name?”

Sol: “Max? I think Villmenal? No…that’s not right….Vilareal! That’s it.”

Solaria’s story part 8 - a miscommunication.

For Sol, That single word echoed louder than it should have. She felt a strange tightness in her chest, as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. For a moment, she sat frozen, trying to process what she had just read. She thought to her self as she inhaled sharply, “don’t over react, you don’t want to seem desperate or jealous”.

Plus they aren’t dating, This was fine. Completely fine. Right?

Be cool. Be casual. She told herself, but every message she drafted felt wrong. She hit send before she could second-guess herself.

Sol: “Dina, huh? Sounds fun. You should go for it.”

It wasn’t that he was actually planning anything with Dina—sure, she’d been flirting with him lately, but it didn’t mean anything. Not compared to Sol. Sol, who always managed to brighten his day with her witty messages and playful teasing. He liked talking to her, maybe a little too much. And now, he might have just ruined the vibe completely by bringing up someone else.

Sol was realizing that maybe she wasn’t the only one in the running for his attention. Still, she wasn’t going to let herself be sidelined so easily. If Ingie wanted to mention other girls, fine—she could play that game too.

Sol: “Speaking of which, I should probably let you go. I told someone I’d call them back later, and it’s getting kinda late.”

Someone? Ingie’s heart sank a little. Who was this someone? Since when was she talking to someone else? He wanted to ask, but the thought of coming off as jealous stopped him. He had no right—after all, they weren’t official. They were just… talking. Flirting. Maybe something more, but nothing defined.

It was a lie—there was no someone—but Ingie didn’t need to know that. Her heart raced slightly as she wondered if he would take the bait.

Ingie: “Oh? Anyone I know?”

Ingie wanted to know who this guy was. Was he someone from work? A friend? Someone she was actually interested in?

Sol smiled, despite herself. Hook, line, and sinker.

Sol: “Nah, just someone from work. Nothing serious.”

She knew she was being a little spiteful, but something about reminding him that he wasn’t the only one with options made her feel a bit better. If he wanted to play it cool, she could do the same—and maybe even better.

She didn’t want to keep staring at her phone, but the truth was, she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. Dina. The name still lingered in her mind like an unwelcome guest.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard again before she quickly typed:

Sol: “Also, before I let you go, do you mind if I bring a plus one to your party this weekend?”

It was innocent enough on the surface. Let him wonder who this plus one was. After all, two could play this game.

A plus one? Now his chest tightened with something that felt suspiciously like jealousy. He should’ve seen this coming. Sol was smart, funny, and effortlessly beautiful. Of course, other guys would be interested in her. He just hadn’t expected it to sting this much.

He wanted to ask her outright, but pride kept him from doing it. Instead, he took a breath, forcing himself to play it cool.

Ingie: “A plus one? Sure, I guess…”

The moment he hit send, he wished he hadn’t.

But it was too late now—he’d just have to wait for her answer.

Sol: “Great! See you Saturday :)”

Solaria Story Part 7

Today had been a good day. Solaria went shopping, met a sweet old lady who insisted on telling her about her good for nothing son, and now, as she settled into her bed, she couldn’t help but let Ingie know.

Yes, they were just friends, but he always had this annoying habit of taking space in her mind. It wasn’t just the flirty messages—it was the way he made her feel seen, as if their banter was more than just words.

With a smile tugging at her lips, she shot him a quick text.

In text

Sol: “I tried that restaurant you told me about. The farmers market on the bottom floor was to die for! Did you know they had dragon fruit?!”

Ingie: “Yea, I knew you’d like it. Now I’m waiting.”

Sol: “Waiting for what?”

Ingie: “My ‘thank you,’ of course.”

Sol: “Oh, silly me! How could I forget? ‘Thank you for your most delightful of recommendations, good sir.’”

Ingie: “It’s all good. I’m glad you had a good time. Maybe I’ll take Dina there too.”

Sol’s fingers hovered over the screen as her heart dropped.

Dina?!

Dina Caliente was a name she recognized—beautiful, popular, and apparently interested in Ingie. Sol’s flirty banter with him hadn’t meant anything exclusive, but she had thought… maybe… it meant something.

Ingie leaned back against his headboard, phone still in hand, eyes glued to the screen. He reread his last message about Dina, and regretted it. Why had he even mentioned Dina? It had slipped out, all he wanted to do was keep the conversation light, but the moment he saw the three dots vanish after Sol read it, he knew he’d messed up.

Ingie: “Idiot,”

he muttered under his breath.

Read Solaria's Story Part 6 (x)

Solaria’s Story Part 6 - The Invite

The phone rang in the distance. An unsaved number flashed across the screen. Solaria hesitated for a moment before answering, her curiosity outweighing her caution.

Solaria: Hello?

Ingie: Didn’t see you last night. Were you asleep?

She didn’t recognize the number, but the deep, raspy voice was unmistakable. Solaria sighed inwardly—of course, it was Ingie.

Solaria: Well, that’s what most people do in the middle of the night. But no, I was working.

Ingie: A woman after my own heart. That’s sexy, you know.

His voice carried a flirtatious undertone, and she could tell he’d been drinking. It was barely 7 a.m., and yet he sounded like he hadn’t stopped partying. Still, she went along with the conversation, hoping for a bit of amusing.

Solaria: What do you mean? You just said you were clubbing all night.

Ingie: That’s where you’re confused. The club is my job—I own it. Well, technically, it’s owned by my family, but it’s my responsibility.

Solaria: Wow, pretty and with daddy’s money.

Ingie: Didn’t peg you for a sexist, Sol. My mother gets all the credit for this.

Solaria: Oh, so it’s mommy’s money. That’s even cuter.

Solaria smirked, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger as she wandered aimlessly around her small studio apartment. The conversation was proving to be more entertaining than she’d expected.

Ingie: Careful, you’re starting to sound jealous.

Solaria: Jealous? Please. I can handle myself just fine without a trust fund.

Ingie: Good, then you’ll fit right in at the party I’m throwing this weekend.

She paused, leaning against the window frame and glancing out at the sleepy street below. The idea of a party felt both absurd and strangely tempting.

Solaria: Party? Should I be honored, or is this your way of showing off your “responsibility” skills again?

Ingie: Depends. Will you show up just to roast me the entire night?

Solaria: If I come, it’ll be strictly for the free food and entertainment.

Ingie: So that’s a yes?

Solaria: Maybe. What’s the dress code? Let me guess—gold chains and designer shades indoors?

Ingie: Close enough. Just bring that attitude and I’ll be entertained for hours.

Solaria: Fine. But if I catch you pretending to “work” at your own party, I’m leaving.

Ingie: Deal. See you Saturday, Sol.