Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Created January 6, 2020
Community? Engagements? Arts? Well, for starters this is a class taught at Transylvania University in Lexington, KY by professors Kremena Todorova and Kurt Gohde. The goal of this class is to form a relationship with the community by engaging in artistic projects with the community. The outcome of this will manifest itself in many ways, some recognizable and others not so much.
CETA 2020: Our first 2 emojis (of hundreds)
Created January 6, 2020
Individual Tasks
Collect addresses, make & write thank-you cards, design pronoun buttons--Anna Davis
Blog Manager--Paige Wessling
Recorder/archivist for This I Believe essays--Sarah Metcalfe
Social Media--Lydia Baggett & Garrett LeVan
Photographic Inventory (3 people)--Yousef Alsdudi, Sarah Bennett, & Faith Boles
Space, raw material, & tool inventory manager AND order enforcer--Emily Neat
Quality Control & Class Ethicist--Alex Toney
Software Design Team (3 people)--Shelby Barker, Emily Cecil, & Abby Pearson
Fabrication Team (3 people)--Brooklyn Greer, Will Hemingway, & Marissa Price
Finishing Team (4 people)--Nannie Baze, Emon Daneshmand, Ally Frederick, & Madison Phillips
Additional photographic documentation--Kremena and Kurt
Working with production design at Kre8Now Makerspace--Kurt and Kremena
Publicity for the class--Kremena and Kurt
Securing materials needed--Kurt and Kremena
With sleepy eyes, my head pressed into my dad's chest I observed the framed photograph on the wall of his apartment as he took me to bed. A rugged looking man with dark hair and trouble in his eyes. Asking “Who is that daddy? Why do you have his photo?”, my father answered that it was Johnny Cash, a singer and my dad's personal hero.
ReplyDeleteAs I grew up my dad introduced me to every Johnny Cash album he owned (which is a lot), including songs such as Folsom Prison Blues, Ring of Fire, Jackson and countless others. With every song he imparted his love for Johnny and his music to me. With every move my dad made that picture was hung on the wall for both of us to admire.
As I got older and my relationship with my father became more complicated I took a hiatus from Johnny Cash. The epitome of my father's addiction and troublesome character. While I still appreciated the music, I found it hard to indulge in someone so similar to him.
At sixteen I watched the movie Walk the Line, an autobiographical account of Johnny Cash’s career and insight into his addiction. I laughed, cried and loved during the entirety of the film. As the credits rolled I remembered all the times me and my dad sang to Johnny together, all the joy we shared over his music. My perspective had changed, and I once again began adamantly listening to Johnny Cash. Where I had once perceived him as containing all my father's flaws, I now realized he demonstrated the strength and perseverance of my dad. More than that, he was a link between me and my dad, one that I found myself desperately needing.
When I moved into my dorm, I selected a few of my favorite posters and images to hang on my walls. Within them, a framed poster of Johnny Cash. I hung it proudly on my wall where I am able to admire Johnny every day. A reminder of my dad and all the ways in which we are the same. I believe in hanging a framed picture of Johnny Cash.
You keep giving me more music suggestions :)
DeleteWhat a bittersweet reflection. Consider sharing it with your dad...maybe?
My afternoon Saturday was completely devoted to the Wikipedia Edit-a-thon.
ReplyDeleteI really didn’t want to go. I spent the entire week dwelling on how desperately I didn’t want to go. Even the first hour of the event, I still felt like I wanted to go home. Half way through, though, I found one particular stub article that interested me. The last two hours went by so much faster once I focused on that article. By the time five o’clock came around, I had doubled the content of the original article, and I felt a sense of pride in the work I had done. I immediately told everyone I knew to read the article, boasting that it was (mostly) all my doing.
At home, I continued work on my dead fish emoji, trying a new process I have never done. Throughout the process, I thought it looked awful and was a waste of my time and printer ink. I though I’d never make it presentable. Even still I feel like it’s not my best work, but I feel a sense of pride in the fact that I didn’t give up, that I tried something different and learned something new.
Saturday, I learned to believe in optimism. I believe that if you work through something long enough, and keep your cool, something good will come of it. I felt like I was being tested at every turn this Saturday, yet I was able to keep my head above water and smile at the end of it all. I believe in being patient, optimistic, and happy.
I really enjoyed this essay. I've found staying positive usually helps me get the most out of experiences even if I don't really want to be there.
DeleteMadison, I often have similar experiences making art. I have a constant nagging within me that "it will never work out." I believe everyone has a little bit of that and it is so much more fruitful to be optimistic, as you say
DeleteI love your perseverance, Madison! Thank you for sharing it with us--both as a quality and in this essay.
DeleteIt can be hard sometimes to stay positive, but it tends to be worth it in the end! Im glad you found so much enjoyment from work this weekend!
DeleteThere is no better feeling than doubling a stub (in my opinion). I'm happy you're proud of it and definitely agree that you should be! It's a great accomplishment :)
DeleteI really loved the edit-a-thon the two years I went. I'm glad you ended up enjoying it! You should show us the page you worked on!
DeleteBum bum ba dum bam! The sound of something familiar wakes me up. I open my eyes and see my mother holding our very old dancing birthday cake that sings to me. It’s the morning of my 18th birthday. In my family, we have never really celebrated any kind of holiday. On Thanksgiving, we eat chinese food takeout and we don’t even put up decorations on Christmas! Holidays have never been too important to us, but birthdays take the cake. Birthdays are so special, you’ve made it another year around the sun! You look older and you have grown as a person. I love my birthday. My mother always made sure to make me feel special on my birthday. My 18th birthday was the most special one for me thus far. My mom woke me up and took me to my favorite breakfast place. I drove to school, and there my friends gave me tulips and stuffed animals. My mom brought me food from McDonald’s for lunch, which was just awesome! It was an amazing day, I felt so celebrated now that I was officially an adult. Later in the afternoon, I was brushing my hair and I found gray hair. I thought I would be upset, but I wasn’t. I have never understood why people hate getting older, what else are we supposed to do - live and look the same forever? I can’t wait to look, feel, and be older. I love every single age I am, so I look forward to every birthday. Each year, I become more and more of the Sarah Bennett I am supposed to be. There is something special at every age, even if you find a gray hair on your 18th birthday. I believe in gray hairs.
ReplyDeleteIt's cool you like your gray hairs. I have a lot from all the medication I was on growing up and hate mine. I just recently found a whole patch of them.
DeleteI LOVE birthdays too, Sarah! I wish I was part of your family who acknowledges them and treats them so highly. I believe there is nothing quite as important as celebrating the anniversary of the presence of someone we love.
DeleteKeep on enjoying your greay hair and getting older!
DeleteI really enjoyed your reflections, Sarah.
I've had gray hair for many years but I've never minded them so I share this belief!
DeleteI also think your family's commitment to birthdays sounds like a lot of fun
ReplyDeleteI believe in respecting my authority figures.
One day in class I mentioned that I respond to my parents with Sir and Ma’am. I was shocked when someone apologized to me because I did that. I just want to state that I do not respond to then like that because I HAVE to. I do it because I respect them with every cell in my body. I give them that confirmation because thats what I think they deserve. I love my parents and my family more than anything in this world. They are my best friends, but I am still the youngest. I still look up to everyone. Hell, I even say yes sir to my brothers sometimes. It is not something that should be apologized for. I get if you do not do it yourself, but it is my choice what I do. Like I said before, I do not have to say yes sir when my father asks me a question, I want to. It is all based on respect. They have had more life experiences than me and I go to them when I need guidance because they give best advice. Everyone in my family is an authority figure. I respect my authority and give them the respect I believe they deserve. I believe in my authority figures, therefore, I believe in respecting my authority figures.
Yes, I agree. Having manners and respecting authority figures is something that is important to me. My parents always taught me to have respect and to value people that have had more life experience than me. It is not something that I feel like I have to do either, but it is something that I want to do. In reality, most of the time authority figures are people that are trying to guide you or help you. I can only hope that when I am older that younger people would respect me.
DeleteI am most definitely not sorry that you are like this. I appreciate it!
My parents taught me yes sir and no sir at a young age, and now it is second nature to me. It is something that doesn't happen often anymore, but it should!
DeleteI am in a committed relationship. For almost a year and a half now. I love my boyfriend very much. Since I met him I knew that he was the man I wanted to spend my life with. He is the only person I want and he thinks the same about me. But we have three celebrity passes. We each have chosen three celebrities that we would leave each other for if the opportunity presented itself. We know it probably never will, which is why we are both okay with it. We make jokes about it when we see one of our passes in a movie, video, or on social media. It started as a funny conversation starter in the beginning stages of our relationship. His passes are Emilia Clarke, Margot Robbie, and Scarlett Johansson. All very beautiful, smart and successful women. My passes are a little different because they were not what he expected at all when I told him.
ReplyDeleteMy number one is Noel Miller. Many people might not know him because he is just a Youtuber and starting to do music. Noel Miller is the most likely of my three passes that would happen but still the chances are very slim. He is a comedian youtuber who has me rolling everytime I watch a video. Not to mention I find him very attractive. I have a photoshopped picture of him and I beside my bed because I find it funny.
My number two is Barack Obama. This one was surprising to my boyfriend. I think Obama is a respectable man who is not bad on the eyes. This one is the least likely to happen in my opinion.
My final pass is Emily Ratajkowski. She is a well known model that I think is so beautiful so naturally I would get with her if I had the chance. Also, very unlikely.
I know that none of these are likely to happen at all, his or mine. That is why we have them. It has created a fun little thing for us. I believe in celebrity passes.
Haha, the boy I was talking to for almost a year kept saying his celebrity cheat person was Jennifer Aniston. I had never thought about the concept before, and I'm not sure I liked it because it made me personally insecure. I'm glad yours seem to be more healthy and open...perhaps I should get to thinking about my own
DeleteI totally get your celebrity passes, Paige!
DeleteMine is Adam Driver and my boyfriend absolutely hates it because he says Adam Driver has an 'uncomfortable face.' I never know how to tell him that he and Adam Driver have pretty similar faces.
DeleteHahaha, I love what this essay turned into. You both chose very wise passes.
DeleteHaha, this is great! I love this!
DeleteContent warning: this essay includes a brief mention of an extremely minor injury associated with an embroidery needle, just in case anyone dislikes needles.
ReplyDelete---
On Thursday in Advanced Studio Practices, we discussed movement in art as it relates to brush strokes in painting and dance in performance art. What I found myself thinking about, though, was the effect of creating art on my own body.
Earlier on in the semester, as I stepped out of Jazzman’s (or Gratz Perk) wearing my backpack, I noticed a dull pain in my back. I wondered why, and then remembered I had thrown clay on the wheel the previous day. For anyone who doesn’t know, throwing pottery requires a lot of leaning forward, and for me it’s difficult to do for extended periods of time for that reason.
In the beginning days of my stone carving this semester, I used a mallet and chisel to break off pieces of the stone I didn’t need. In the next few days, when I moved my right hand certain ways, I felt a sharp pain. This problem faded, as I suppose my hand built up the necessary strength to keep chiseling, and I was able to keep going until I had the entire profile ready to be smoothed down.
I work a lot with needle and thread or embroidery floss, as I’m an embroiderer and lately have been inclined to work with a lot of fabric even when I wasn’t working on embroidery pieces. In this process, I’ve accidentally stabbed myself more times than I could count, but only once has it actually been bad enough to really sting for a second.
Due to a combination of winter weather, working with wet clay, and sanding stone into fine dust, my hands are currently quite dry, and I await the day the weather warms back up and the air regains moisture so I don’t have to think so much about my hands drying out.
My major requires a lot more physical movement than I thought it would when I first declared it, but I regret absolutely nothing. Though artmaking may at times be hard on my body, I believe it is good for my soul.
I feel the same way about studio art. I often envy the work it requires while I'm hunched over math homework and get little physical activity. However, I can confirm that I have also injured myself more times than I can count making art work...and yet we keep doing it
DeleteLove love love how embodied art-making can be and often is!
DeleteAs a weaver, I'm always going through back pain from being hunched over my loom for hours. I always tell myself that I will find a way to fix my posture while working, but I never do.
DeleteCeramics is so taxing on my body at times but there isn't a day that goes by that I would stop doing it.
DeleteI believe I like and dislike golf...and not in the obvious way. Regardless of my score or how I’m playing, while those ARE influential on my disposition, I am usually pretty happy on the golf course. However, after 4 months of not playing, I had definitely lost my excitement and the acknowledgement that it makes me happy. I was really doubting if I liked it at all anymore. I mean, it isn’t exactly confidence building to hit two balls in the water on one hole (which I did today). Over the last months, I had felt no loss in my life by not playing. In fact, I was sort of resenting the start of our spring season for how it would take time away from everything else in my life.
ReplyDeleteThe practice we’ve been doing indoors at 8 AM has not been very inspirational either. But today, in honor of the 60 degree weather, our coach required us to go play 9 holes. I definitely had homework I needed to do instead. He definitely made us walk instead of use carts. I definitely hadn’t putt on real grass or hit a drive in many moons. Yet, despite all of these things which would make it seem today was a bad day, it was not. I even got paired to play with a girl who annoys me a good majority of the time and won’t stop talking, but as I stayed in my own quiet golf course world (a healthy 50-100 yds ahead of her at all times), I felt really good again. It was a sort of rekindling that I cannot explain.
In short, I believe that changing perspective can change opinion. While I’m doing it, I cannot imagine being anywhere else and being so happy. However, when I’m away from it, I often don’t miss it. I’m not sure what this means about my affection toward golf, but I do believe a shift in perspective is powerful.
Yes for shifts in perspective!
DeleteThank you for sharing this essay with us, Emily.
In 1780 someone started a university all of us in this room have measurable fondness for. I am not sure what tool one measures this with or what units the measurements would be recorded in, but surely this fondness is measurable. In 1785, the first classes of Transylvania University were held near Danville. How can a university exist for 5 years before holding the first classes? What were the founders of the university doing during these years? With certainty, I can say they were focused on shaping the future.
ReplyDeleteI am certain of the propensity for forward thinking in the minds of folks who birthed universities, not because I think universities are progressive but because if these same men (I am sure all the people deemed important enough at the time to have their names recorded in history were men) waxed nostalgic, they may have been buried alive like the first few soldiers in the Russian army to contract the nostalgia virus during the 1733 march to Germany. This surely steeled the will and chilled the bones of other soldiers who paused even momentarily to think of their children, parents, friends, and basic times of comfort when they were not trying to kill people in order to avoid being killed themselves.
Speaking of bone-chilling: convinced that nostalgia came from a “pathological bone,” 18th- and 19th-century doctors searched for and tried to remove it from patients suffering the disease. Stitched back together with one bone missing, each of these patients suffered both from a wish for the homecoming (nostos in Greek) of their bone and insufferable pain (algos).
American doctor Theodore Calhoun advanced the post-Civil War military treatment of nostalgia beyond the German practice of burying the first to suffer alive--thus scaring nostalgia from the remaining soldiers--to the practices of public ridicule and bullying those afflicted.
Nostalgia is finding oneself caught in the highlight reel of our best moments when those moments have become simplified and scrubbed of the complications and nuance that really and truly make up all of our days. We forget bad experiences more quickly. We collapse the time between all of our best moments in the past and place them side by side as a comparison to the present, which can never measure well against a highlight reel. And how can we possibly go forward with the realization that everything we have now was better before? We don’t have to go forward. I believe we could, instead, bury ourselves alive.
When I get nostalgic I'm going to start saying "well call me a Russian soldier and bury me alive" and refuse to offer any connections to the two halves of the phrase. Thank you for this.
DeleteEvery Friday my phone delivers photographs that tell the same story: a man arranges a mound of dry brush on top of a tire. At times, there is a stack of tires. A 20-foot cement wall dwarfs the man and his tires. The tires burn. Smoke billows over the wall. Other men carry flags, each gripping a wooden pole propped against his shoulder. The men wear jeans and hoodies. Many wear keffiehs wrapped around their faces. The black-and-white wire-fence pattern of the keffiehs covers all but their eyes. At times, the group includes a woman. But it is always a man who catapults flaming tires over the cement wall. At times, one of the men sands on top of the wall, his flag raised in the air. At times, he holds a flag in each hand.
ReplyDeleteThe only time this story changes is in October, during olive harvest season. No keffiehs are visible. The men are outnumbered by women and children. Instead of flags and tires, they carry buckets and large cotton sacks. They are able to cross to the other side of the wall through a tall gate wired with electricity. Soldiers look on, gripping their guns. They stand with their backs against grey tanks. One Friday, the villagers cross through the gate followed by a horse and a donkey. The animals are weighed down by the day’s harvest. In one photograph, a man picking green-colored olives is surrounded by cats.
The man who sends me these photographs is Mohammad. We met last August. On that morning, he traveled 2 hours and crossed 3 checkpoints to show me around Ramallah. Mohammad brought me a Tupperware of peeled cactus: ready to eat.
After leaving Palestine, I rely on Mohammad’s pictures and the images Facebook delivers to give my memories life. They stoke my anger at an occupation so brutal, Palestinians live within walls, prison-like.
Every Friday, my phone delivers photographs that tell the same story. A man arranges a mound of dry brush on top of a tire.
I believe social media can ignite revolutions.
What an amazing essay, I am left with chills. Despite the many flaws social media contains its power to get word to the people and incite change can be rather breathtaking.
DeleteI so agree!! Social media has the potential to be a great equalizer, as information can spreadd without filteration by major media organizations. This is a major reason I believe that internet access is a human right.
DeleteIt was my freshman year of highschool and I was so excited to start basketball season. I was in the gym everyday. Matter of fact, basketball was the only thing that was on my mind when I started that school. Foolishly, I wasn’t worried about making friends or partying or boys. I just wanted a good four years of basketball. At the time, I would have claimed that I was one of my coaches favorites.
ReplyDeleteThe first basketball practice was tough. I was so sore and could barely walk the next day. The second practice was even tougher. We were almost done. The last thing we were doing was this simple layup drill. She got on us and said that we were not doing as well as she expected and we needed to make better passes. We got on the line. Then we started the layup drill again. I was the first in line. I ran down the court as fast as I could, caught the ball for a layup and then boom, I am on the ground. I was mad, I did not know what happened. I tried getting up but I couldn’t walk without help.
I tore my acl on the second practice of my freshmen year. I not only struggled physically but I struggled mentally. I cried every day for four months. I couldn’t get over it, and people pushed me in a way that I do not think was what I needed. My teammates texted me the day it happened and said kind words to help me but that was it. Also the day it happened my coach told me “in 5 years this isn’t going to matter’’. Although she was right, it really wasn’t what I needed at that time.
I researched and researched about ACL reconstruction surgery, and the recovery time, and why I was feeling so sad. When having a serious injury you grief as if you have lost someone you loved. It is true, look it up. Although I would much rather tear my ACL 10 times than to lose someone I loved, the grieving is so similar. Losing a sport you loved and played since you were 5 was one of the hardest things I have been through. But, I can say that it made me who I am today. I am better now, and more positive. I realized that I choose how I recover from something that I just did not want to happen. I have become more resilient since then.
I believe that obstacles not only help define who you are but build character and strength.
Oh I really feel for you. My senior year I had a major surgery and couldn't cheer anymore. I had practiced gymnastics for 7 years at the time and hated so much to give it up. It is definitely one of the harder things in life.
DeleteSeriously injuring yourself can be a stressful process. IT is all about how you respond to the adversity!
DeleteWhen I was much much younger, my family had a pool. The first few years at our new house we swam every day of the summer. (Summers of course began on May 30, the date where the ground magically thawed and I could finally shed my shoes outside.)
ReplyDeleteIn the beginning of our pool-having summers, I would lay on my back and imagine I was a shipwrecked survivor. I was only able to float because if I let down my legs, a shark would mistake me for a seal and would come eat me. This was a scene I could only play out when my siblings and cousins were off doing something else, because when they decided to hop in, I had to help them make a powerful whirlpool or get out.
My siblings and cousins were older than me, and they quickly tired of at-home, in-pool summers. Before long I was the only one begging for the pool to be chlorinated so it would be ready for May 30th. However, my voice was a very small one in a house full of bigger and louder kids. In one of my last single-digit summers, my family bought a bag of chlorine weeks later than when I originally asked. When we finally pulled back the cover, the pool was green and full of slimy eggs. My parents complained that we would have to clean them all out before they could thoroughly clean the water.
I begged them to pretty please let me relocate all those already-hatched tadpoles and salamanders before we stole their home away. After a lot of debating where it became clear they suddenly cared very much about having a swimmable pool, they gave me a week to clear it out.
Surprisingly, my siblings joined in my efforts to catch the tadpoles barehanded. We had so much fun looking for their little legs to sprout and catching frogs. We started sitting out at night together and later than usual to hear their singing. By the end of the week we were having so much fun we forgot all about the cleaning, and decided to keep the pool as a 2 foot breeding pond instead. We never used the pool for swimming again, as we had to tear it down two years later. We had never had so much fun with it until it was green and filled with life. I still believe that the only truly proper use for a pool is as a small wetland, because every kid needs some frog summers.
This is such a beautiful essay! I'm glad you saved the tadpoles and frogs from being taken out of the their new home in your pool.
DeleteI can see so well the Shelby I know in the Shelby you describe! Love your love for little creatures, Shelby!
DeleteI loved tadpoles when I was kid! we had a little drainage ditch thing behind my house that would fill with rain water, and during the summer I would scoop the tadpoles out of the shallow areas and move them to the deeper parts as the water dried up!
DeleteI believe in video games. I’ve played them since I was 5. My dad got me the original xbox and we would play games together. It was the first father son experience I can remember, and I can’t wait to share that experience with my kid someday.
ReplyDeleteYou would think as a 20 year old (semi) adult, that video games would be the least of my concerns as a college student. It is quite the opposite. We have a group chat with 10 guys who are all as passionate about video games as me, and we all love to play together.
Right now, we are all playing NBA 2K. It is a basketball game where we can all use our players on the same team against other players. It is super fun to play with your friends, and sometimes play against them. Being able to talk smack when you win makes playing worth it.
I met some of my friends at Transy when one of my original friends invited them to play with us, and we bonded like we have been friends for years. It’s difficult to explain, but something about liking similar things other people like makes it easier to get more friends.
Playing video games has brought me closer to my friends and allowed me to have fun while I sit on the couch. Having these small moments with my friends will be something that sticks with me forever, and it means a lot to me to have friends who like the same things I do.
I believe in dressing up.
ReplyDeleteThis weekend I went to my sorority’s formal and it makes me incredibly happy to see everyone looking so beautiful. They’re always beautiful, but on this particular night it is clear they also feel beautiful and their confidence is lifted. A couple of my friends have been struggling this week and tonight it was so much fun to see them all feel just a little better. I believe that when you get dressed up and do your makeup not only is the process therapeutic, you also feel great.
Anna, I loved seeing your all's photos from formal! You all are so beautiful, and I am glad you all enjoyed your sorority function.
DeleteAnna, I LOVED your bootie/heels.
DeleteYou looked amazing at formal! I'm glad you had a good time :)
DeleteI believe in driving with the windows down.
ReplyDeleteYesterday, the sun shined bright and its warmth felt good on my skin. I forgot how comforting that feeling is, and it makes me anticipate going to Florida for spring break next week. As I drove around yesterday running errands with my pink sunglasses on and music turned up, I was stopped at a light. I looked to my right, and I saw two young women in their car with their windows down singing and laughing. I thought to myself, what a great idea! So, the windows were rolled down in my bug, and I continued to drive around Lexington pretending like I was the only car on the road while Lorde played over my speakers. As I made my way to my favorite Goodwill in Lexington, I passed an SUV with a big brown dog in the backseat. I guess the dog knew how beautiful the weather was outside because their window was down too. The furry friend hung its head out the window, and its ears flopped in the wind. I was a little jealous that the only impact the wind hand on me was that my hair was blowing everywhere, and I wondered what it would feel like if my ears could flop around in the breeze too. I drove around the rest of the day with a little more optimism as I imagined the Florida sunshine beaming down on me in a few short days and enjoyed the breath of fresh air the Sunday afternoon brought me.
Driving with the windows down makes me feel free. If it isn't too cold but kinda cold I will put the heat on and put my window down. It is hard to trust people who ride with their windows up on a nice day.
DeleteAlthough I usually don't like driving with the windows down because my hair goes everywhere yesterday I had them down and loved it.
DeleteAlex: (How do i get this to actually display my name up there? i'm signed in...)
DeleteGosh I love riding in a car with the windows down. I get to put my hand out in the air and feel the wind, it's so much fun.
(oh hey i think it properly displayed this time! thats pretty cool. anyways heres my essay)
ReplyDeleteWhen This I Believe was first to me brought,
My mind would rush with possibilities.
“My, what a beautiful concept!” I thought,
As I wrote with my full abilities.
And ever since that day, it’s only been tough,
As I am not the happiest woman.
My thoughts are toxic and my struggles rough,
My words glimpses into my heart wooden.
Some sad days I forget how to believe.
But I keep my chin up, and think of love,
Of happy days, of the golden fall leaves,
And I remember what it means to love.
This I Believe in light of tomorrow,
Of bright flowers that pierce through my sorrow.
I love this poem Alex, it is so beautiful!! You have a serious talent!
Delete
ReplyDeleteI found a flash drive the other day. It was hidden amongst the papers in a backpack I used in high school. I hadn’t seen this flash drive in about 3 years, so I was very curious to see what was on it. On the flash drive was one video that was 4 minutes long.
I was honestly surprised that there was only one video on the flash drive. Out of curiosity I opened the video and started watching. From the first couple of seconds I figured out that this was my AP Biology final project. Two of my best friends and I made a video that was a skit trying to get people to take the class next year. It was a bizarre, but funny skit starring my friend Joanna as an old woman and myself as our Biology teacher. The content of the flash drive isn't what really matters about this story.
Watching this video from high school made me realize how much I miss my high school friends. Although we still message each other sometimes in a group chat, we have all grown apart. I understand that this is a part of growing older, but it's tough to think about. I miss goofing off in class with them and hanging out at each other's houses after school. I am thankful that we get together at least once a year to hang out, but we are not the same people we were in high school.
I am proud of the hard work my high school friends are putting into their degrees and wish them the best of luck in the future. Although we are all on separate life paths, I believe that we will be friends for a long time. At least I have a memento of our time together that lives on a flimsy little flash drive.
I believe in high school friends
I often hear that people should keep their emotions out of politics; that emotion somehow invalidates logic, and the two should be kept far, far apart. But why? Where has apathy ever gotten us?
ReplyDeleteI believe that apathy is dangerous. Nowadays, I think far too many people are disenfranchised and disinterested in politics. I understand why. We are in strange times with no rules. It’s easy to get discouraged when our leaders are so often disappointing, and it seems like there is no end to all the madness. But, this is a time where we need to be active and passionate. We cannot let apathy cloud our judgements or disenfranchise ourselves.
Apathy will get us nowhere but another four years of this hell we’ve been living. Rather than separating emotions and politics, we should encourage the joining of the two. Political policies that affect millions of people should be emotional. Rather than keeping emotions out of politics, let’s keep apathy out.
I love it. I think people need to feel passion when it comes to politics, even though that is sometimes extremely hard to do.
DeleteGrowing up in Kentucky on a farm has had a great impact on me and my love for horses due to the fact I have always been surrounded by them. Have you ever felt like you’re flying in the wind? The wind is in your hair and you have the biggest smile on your face, a smile so big that makes your cheeks hurt. Well, that’s what it feels like to ride a horse, one of nature's most amazing and brilliant creatures. Before college I didn't know what life was like without them. They were a part of my life 365 days a year for 18 years.
ReplyDeleteThere’s a great amount of responsibility of owning and caring for a horse, you’re taking on responsibility of other beings. Not just yourself. It's waking up at 5am before school to clean stalls, turn them out, feed them, water them and make sure they will be content for the day just to get home and do it all over again. It's the emergency vet run and late nights spent tending to a sick horse. It's the blood sweat and tears of a really shitty lesson or show. It's the day you are sick and don't want to get out of bed but there are horses that rely on you to take care of them.
But what they give in return is absolutely priceless. It's the bond between the two of you that is so strong any non “horse girl” wouldnt understand. It's the moment of crossing the finish line at a show and realizing all the blood sweat and tears has paid off and you have won first place. It's the sunny days spent bareback wandering through the forest and creeks of Kentucky smiling ear to ear with your best friend. It's the beautiful memories of all the laughter, smiles, blood, sweat and tears combined that make owning a horse such a blessing.
I believe my horse was my best friend, my rock, my go-to, and most of all the biggest and best teacher throughout my childhood.
I believe in piercings.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was in 5th grade, all I wanted was to get my ears pierced. I would see pictures in magazines and girls in my favorite TV shows with their amazing jewels. They always seemed to brighten up any look. From shiny diamonds to giant loops, the simple addition of an earring made them seem older, smarter, prettier, and just all around cooler. Finally, my mother agreed and drove me to our local Claire’s in our tiny mall. I braced myself for the pain and got my first ever diamond shot through my ear.
As the weeks passed and I attentively cared for my new piercing in anticipation of the day I could finally change them to something new, I collected more and more earrings in a variety of shapes, colors, and sizes. Each pair of earrings meant something to me. I wore my giant hanging feathers whenever I was feelings like being connected to nature, I wore my neon green spikes when I was feeling the teenage angst, I wore my shiny (yet fake) diamonds when I wanted to feel grown up. It didn’t matter what others thought because I loved them. They gave me genuine joy whenever I caught my reflection. They could be “weird” or classy, but I didn’t care, because they were me.
Today, I have 7 more ear piercings and far less colorful and outgoing variety of earrings to choose from, but my piercings are still a part of me. They still help me to show my mood and personality. Although I change them less often and in less dramatic ways, to this day it still excites me to add a hoop or even change from a small diamond to a slightly bigger one. My piercings help me to feel like me. They may seem simple to others, but to myself, they are a form of artwork that displays to the world a little piece of who I am.