Today I witnessed something that truly made me reflect as a person. Throughout the last few years many things have changed in my life, including my beliefs. I now feel a strong longing to know "why" and "how" whereas previously in my life I've just sort of accepted things for what they are. And after thinking long and hard about whether the phrase "put good in, get good out" is actually valid, today I realized that, that isn't actually a sound statement. Sure, there are ideas of Karma, the good old "what goes around comes around" but those are just ideas and beliefs. The truth is, is that you don't always get what you put out, be that positive or negative energy. Its that we all are effected by each other, very single "cause" has "effect", an emotion behind it that has been somehow altered, influenced by someone else and their actions, its cyclic. So I share my experience with you in hopes that you too can understand.
This afternoon as I got on the city bus with a friend of mine to head home after a seemingly endless, routine day of high school a younger boy, probably a few grades lower than us tried to get on the bus. . The problem with this was, was that he didn't have his ID which serves as a bus pass for students who attend my school. It was freezing outside, one of the coldest days so far this winter and the snow was coming down. The boy was wearing a pair of running sneakers, jeans, and a t shirt. No joke... a t-shirt. He stood there apologizing and rubbing his arms in desperation for warmth, begging the bus driver to let him on, But bus driver wouldn't let him on as he yelled at him in a viscous tone telling him that " He didn't care how he got him" because " he wasn't his problem"...this struck something in me. We've had this bus driver for a while, he's always mad about something, the kind of guy that never "lets one slide". I sat there so angry at this man for not showing even the slightest bit of human decency. I mean he was a bus driver for Christ sake. My friend quickly pulled out her wallet and handed the boy a dollar so that he wouldn't have to trek home in the freezing cold without a coat, the proper shoes, or even cloves. For the remainder of the drive home my friend and I sat there enraged at the driver. When it came time for me to get off I pulled the stopping cord on the bus and he pulled to the next stop. When I stood up I felt as if the angry had just poured off of me like water cascading down a waterfall and I said thank you to him. Whereas ten minutes ago I probably wouldn't have said anything or even been rude. But what I realized is that if I was rude to the driver after he was rude to the boy, what would make me different from him? Nothing would've made us different because chances are not many people have been nice to him in his life time and maybe that's why he carries so much hate around with him.
- Grace
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
QUALITIES
Luscious
Luscious is a five foot two Latina with more spice and attitude than her best friend Meretricious. She's great at math but enjoys social studies more. She loves to sing despite the fact that she's no good at it. She grew up in the barrio with her abuela, Empathy and younger brother Ancillary.
During the weekdays she spends her time caring for her brother and making empanadillas to sell at church while abuela works three jobs to support her nietos. On Saturdays, her only free day, Luscious spends her time out on the streets of the barrio. Falling in lust and selling love to different men who don't respect her or see her as more than a coin on the curb. They'd use her body for what it offered. Contrary ti popular belief, Luscious was not a stupid girl... she'd just been used to being treated this way by men, nothing but an accessory or tool for their pleasure.
Magic
Luscious
Luscious is a five foot two Latina with more spice and attitude than her best friend Meretricious. She's great at math but enjoys social studies more. She loves to sing despite the fact that she's no good at it. She grew up in the barrio with her abuela, Empathy and younger brother Ancillary.
During the weekdays she spends her time caring for her brother and making empanadillas to sell at church while abuela works three jobs to support her nietos. On Saturdays, her only free day, Luscious spends her time out on the streets of the barrio. Falling in lust and selling love to different men who don't respect her or see her as more than a coin on the curb. They'd use her body for what it offered. Contrary ti popular belief, Luscious was not a stupid girl... she'd just been used to being treated this way by men, nothing but an accessory or tool for their pleasure.
Magic
Mr. Magic is scientific. He lives alone on
hundreds of Acres or land, and looks at life on earth as phase.
Magic was my third grade teacher, he taught
us that if you believe in yourself nothing could stop or hold you back from
succeeding. He would bring specimens to class in old glass jars for us all to
pass around and observe. We all stared at them completely amazed.
He spoke passionately and quickly, but not to
quickly that you couldn't understand… Like spoken word poetry. When he taught, he preformed as if he were on
stage acting out Shakespeare. His feet kicked and shuffled, his hands danced
along to the tone in his voice, resembling a signer for the deaf.
Mr. Magic painted galaxy’s on the board so we
could see there was so much more complexity to life other than ourselves. He’d
throw atoms and atrophic gases into the air creating neon cosmos. All the third graders would “ ouh” and “ah”
And at the end of each day packed with
astonishment, Magic would hand out lollipops They weren't just any lollipops though. These were large and spherical, resembling planets. We would always joke that he would stab planets and serve them to us. With one lick you could taste the stars.
Heroin
Heroins real name is a secret. He lives in the most unexpected and expected places all at once. Heroin wears his money on his sleeve. He takes things and people away from life. He is volatile, a sinister being. Him and his brothers, Coke, Meth, and ecstasy all share a middle name, Addiction. The only woman that knows his real first name is the same woman that, despite everything he does to hurt himself promises that she will always love him. For a while he kept her, locked in the chains of his deepest darkest insecurities. Stuck in a room full of broken dreams shattered into pieces like smashed porcelain The lock on the door is i love you, I'm going to change, I promise. Heroin breaks promises, he tells lies. The only escape from this Lucifer comes from within.Yet every time she think about leaving him, her heart plummets back to zero like a carnival game of ring the bell. She repeats the words " I can save him!" She can't. He's lost in the world of his own fantasies.
LAUGHTER
Laughter is so light, when she runs she floats on memories. Laughter doesn't always have the best manners but she sincerely makes an effort to. Laughter is an unexpected visitor,s he comes to weddings, schools, performances, and even sometimes interrupts conversations. Laughter never attends funerals. She is loved by all.
Written by: Grace Keller
Heroin
Heroins real name is a secret. He lives in the most unexpected and expected places all at once. Heroin wears his money on his sleeve. He takes things and people away from life. He is volatile, a sinister being. Him and his brothers, Coke, Meth, and ecstasy all share a middle name, Addiction. The only woman that knows his real first name is the same woman that, despite everything he does to hurt himself promises that she will always love him. For a while he kept her, locked in the chains of his deepest darkest insecurities. Stuck in a room full of broken dreams shattered into pieces like smashed porcelain The lock on the door is i love you, I'm going to change, I promise. Heroin breaks promises, he tells lies. The only escape from this Lucifer comes from within.Yet every time she think about leaving him, her heart plummets back to zero like a carnival game of ring the bell. She repeats the words " I can save him!" She can't. He's lost in the world of his own fantasies.
LAUGHTER
Laughter is so light, when she runs she floats on memories. Laughter doesn't always have the best manners but she sincerely makes an effort to. Laughter is an unexpected visitor,s he comes to weddings, schools, performances, and even sometimes interrupts conversations. Laughter never attends funerals. She is loved by all.
Written by: Grace Keller
Monday, May 20, 2013
Guns don't kill people; People kill people. (creative short story piece)
The shadowed cherry wood was cool against me. The space, pitch black except a creek of dim light that broke the darkness and shinned on the spot next to me. There was nothing beside me but a few old buttons and loose change. His house was quiet, too quiet for a summer night.There was no talking or interactions being made. I just remember a constant yet extremely muffed blare of an audience laughing on some late- night talk show on the television in the living room.
Hours must have passed by...then angry. No, furious stomps up the stairs, like beats on a drop shook the house. A door swung open slamming viciously at the wall. He riffled through the room in search of something... me? When he stepped in front I saw him, sweaty and soaked with tears. He had a gash out of his face. When he saw me he reached for me and tucked me underneath his belt buckle. I could tell by his hysteric panting and trembling he was now carrying on with nothing but pure adrenalin. The boy didn't want to return back to the gang fight. But he knew he had to defend his own. The boy wanted his mother.
By now we were turning corners and running down side streets. After a while I lost track of all the left and right turns we had made, All the ducking and squatting behind cars, and all the gun shots tired. All of a sudden a loud cry, a cry like no other ever heard came from across the street. Anthony soon recognized the cry. The same cry once let out by a boy named Patrick let out at his fathers funeral six years ago. Anthony stood up behind the car, reached for me, cocked me, and bang... bang... bang, started firing off random shots. No aim at all. The three boys fled the scene around the same time that the cops we raising around the corners and driving up on lawns. Anthony ran to his friend who was now lying in the middle of an intersection screaming for help and for his mother, a slim, soulful, woman who cooked everything in butter and sang church hips as she gardened. The boy feel his knees, his head flew back and his fists tightened He swung his arms up and beat them at the ground. His childhood best friend was gone, possibly slipped into a different life or on the way to heaven. But just gone in Anthony's eyes.
The constant abandonment was too much for the sixteen year-old to handle. He not only cried for Tony, he cried for his mother who past away from cancer only about a year ago. He cried for his little sister who had received the wrong kind of loving from her daddy at an early age and was then taken away from the family. Anthony cried for his ward and their struggle.
The cops approached the boy and bent him over against the police car and sternly jammed his wrists in hand cuffs. The cops treated him like a delinquent, not like a human being.
Written by: Grace R.G. Keller
Hours must have passed by...then angry. No, furious stomps up the stairs, like beats on a drop shook the house. A door swung open slamming viciously at the wall. He riffled through the room in search of something... me? When he stepped in front I saw him, sweaty and soaked with tears. He had a gash out of his face. When he saw me he reached for me and tucked me underneath his belt buckle. I could tell by his hysteric panting and trembling he was now carrying on with nothing but pure adrenalin. The boy didn't want to return back to the gang fight. But he knew he had to defend his own. The boy wanted his mother.
By now we were turning corners and running down side streets. After a while I lost track of all the left and right turns we had made, All the ducking and squatting behind cars, and all the gun shots tired. All of a sudden a loud cry, a cry like no other ever heard came from across the street. Anthony soon recognized the cry. The same cry once let out by a boy named Patrick let out at his fathers funeral six years ago. Anthony stood up behind the car, reached for me, cocked me, and bang... bang... bang, started firing off random shots. No aim at all. The three boys fled the scene around the same time that the cops we raising around the corners and driving up on lawns. Anthony ran to his friend who was now lying in the middle of an intersection screaming for help and for his mother, a slim, soulful, woman who cooked everything in butter and sang church hips as she gardened. The boy feel his knees, his head flew back and his fists tightened He swung his arms up and beat them at the ground. His childhood best friend was gone, possibly slipped into a different life or on the way to heaven. But just gone in Anthony's eyes.
The constant abandonment was too much for the sixteen year-old to handle. He not only cried for Tony, he cried for his mother who past away from cancer only about a year ago. He cried for his little sister who had received the wrong kind of loving from her daddy at an early age and was then taken away from the family. Anthony cried for his ward and their struggle.
The cops approached the boy and bent him over against the police car and sternly jammed his wrists in hand cuffs. The cops treated him like a delinquent, not like a human being.
Written by: Grace R.G. Keller
Friday, May 17, 2013
What is a quality?
Dictionary definition:
Some qualities that I have are:
Personification dictionary definition:
Example: The wind danced around the room gracefully.
- Grace <3
Noun
- The standard of something as measured against other things of a similar kind; the degree of excellence of something: "quality of life".
- General excellence of standard or level: "quality beers"
Some qualities that I have are:
- Widows peak
- Green/ blue/ grey eyes
- thin nail beds
- Being adventures
- Being sensative to others feelings
Personification dictionary definition:
Noun
- The attribution of a personal nature or human characteristics to something nonhuman, or the representation of an abstract quality in...
- A figure intended to represent an abstract quality.
Example: The wind danced around the room gracefully.
- Grace <3
Thursday, May 16, 2013
DANDELION WINE DISCUSSION QUESTION ANSWERS
1. In Dandelion Wine the most commonly used metaphor of the novel is the creation of the wine which becomes a distillation of the warm summer days. The concept of the dandelion wine being bottled and stored is so that even on the coldest days of winter they'd have a piece of summer with them.
2. Leo Auffman's wife is very skeptical of her husbands attempted invention of the " Happiness Machine" because she feels it's impossible to make. Mrs. Auffman is usually skeptical about his inventions anyway.
3. The significance of the ravine story is to show the readers the horrors of living in a small town. The ravine is where the towns people meet the wilderness
4. No, I don't think it's right for Mrs. Bentley to deny her past but I understand why she did, she felt as if she couldn't prove it to the young girls any more than she already had.Even after she gave them her childhood treasures they didn't believe her.
5. Every event Douglas and Tom wrote there was a moral to be learned in them. But eventually they discover many things about their neighborhood and it overwhelmed them.
6.Yes, she kills him with a pair of sewing scissors.
7.Douglas starts to get sick because of all the depressing things that happened, hes coming to find out that bad things happen all the time, even in the summer. There are deaths, divorces, fights, etc. A man named Mr. Jonahs gives him a bottle of winter air that's cures him.
8. The summer of 1928 doesn't truly end because of the wine stored in the basement that brings back summer days.
- Grace <3
2. Leo Auffman's wife is very skeptical of her husbands attempted invention of the " Happiness Machine" because she feels it's impossible to make. Mrs. Auffman is usually skeptical about his inventions anyway.
3. The significance of the ravine story is to show the readers the horrors of living in a small town. The ravine is where the towns people meet the wilderness
4. No, I don't think it's right for Mrs. Bentley to deny her past but I understand why she did, she felt as if she couldn't prove it to the young girls any more than she already had.Even after she gave them her childhood treasures they didn't believe her.
5. Every event Douglas and Tom wrote there was a moral to be learned in them. But eventually they discover many things about their neighborhood and it overwhelmed them.
6.Yes, she kills him with a pair of sewing scissors.
7.Douglas starts to get sick because of all the depressing things that happened, hes coming to find out that bad things happen all the time, even in the summer. There are deaths, divorces, fights, etc. A man named Mr. Jonahs gives him a bottle of winter air that's cures him.
8. The summer of 1928 doesn't truly end because of the wine stored in the basement that brings back summer days.
- Grace <3
Sunday, May 5, 2013
DANDELION WINE by Ray Bradbury
This book is broken up into a series of short, almost poetic stories called vignettes. The vignette that starts on page 68 is my favorite in the entire book because it's s humorous but at the same time still mantains the heavily description of the rest of the book. This part is about older lady named Mrs. Bentley and two little girls named Alice and Jane and a boy named Tom. She's telling them about how she used to be young and pretty just like them but they don't believe her and ultimately end up really hurting her feelings so she wanted to prove to the children that she once was young so she brings out her childhood treasures and they start to believe. The next day the two girls come back to her house and get to go through and take what they want of her "little girl's things".
This book is broken up into a series of short, almost poetic stories called vignettes. The vignette that starts on page 68 is my favorite in the entire book because it's s humorous but at the same time still mantains the heavily description of the rest of the book. This part is about older lady named Mrs. Bentley and two little girls named Alice and Jane and a boy named Tom. She's telling them about how she used to be young and pretty just like them but they don't believe her and ultimately end up really hurting her feelings so she wanted to prove to the children that she once was young so she brings out her childhood treasures and they start to believe. The next day the two girls come back to her house and get to go through and take what they want of her "little girl's things".
THE LINKS TO OUR SHOTS
http://youtu.be/_y0ZCUN40vk - high angle shot of the cafe
http://youtu.be/ZlpMCMOCTUU - low angle shot
http://youtu.be/8GlxQsVWZww - medium shot
http://youtu.be/_y0ZCUN40vk - high angle shot of the cafe
http://youtu.be/ZlpMCMOCTUU - low angle shot
http://youtu.be/8GlxQsVWZww - medium shot
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