This was the first writing assignment we had in the year of 9th grade. We had a mission to find ourselves through writing, and that in this new change of transitioning into high schoolers is a big thing because it is a new chapter that is beginning. So we created a poem called At this moment, I am which is about finding ourselves and us as teenagers evolving into young adults. After writing this, we printed this out, stained the paper with coffee, and hammered it onto a piece of wood that we painted to represent us and look aesthetically pleasing.
At this moment I am a 13 year old girl who just entered high school. I always try to think positive and get my mind set on things very easily. I have a drive to always wanting to learn new things because there is so much out there that is so unpredictable. I am a girl who likes drawing, running, creating, learning and more. I am girl who dreams about winning the race. Yes, the running one but also the race of life. A girl who achieves in everything and tries every single second of her life. Being a teenage girl has it’s ups and downs. You can do everything kids can’t do. But people start treating you like adults. Transitioning kids into teenagers is hard because we have to be shown the real world. Being a teenager is in the middle to me and is one of the best ages, you're not too young, and not to old. And when you’re a teenager you find out who you are. What you like, and what you don’t. It’s important to be a nice person to everyone, that means smiling to people you don’t even know or telling someone a nice comment about them. Having a friend is so important because we all need time to laugh and have fun but we also need someone to trust. At this moment I am a human being who cares and loves her family and friends. A human being who’s best friend is her mom. A human being with and amazing dad. A sister who although we fight we have our moments. A human being who has the best aunt / second mom ever. I am a lucky human being for having many talents. I am a lucky human being because a lot of people are nice to me, care for me, and love me. A strong human both physically and mentally. A healthy body and a healthy mind. A human being who couldn’t be more thankful for what she has and that’s me. Anna Nicole Barreiro.
In this assignment I learned how to write creative poems and that you can do whatever you desire to create it into a beautiful piece. I would have liked that I knew bigger words that can intrigue you more instead of using similar vocabulary. I would push myself to also write about something that is more challenging and that I would struggle in because thats when the best writing comes in.
For this assignment we first started by writing 4 different poems in a packet we received. We were to write a Haiku, Carpe Diem, Elegy, and a Free Verse Poem. This was the introduction and a starter to get comfortable with writing for our Celebration Slam Project. After finishing this, we chose one poem that we felt very confident and proud of and made drafts and polished it.
Link to all poems from packet_ Where I am from I am from violins strings to piano keys, from cold mornings to humid nights, I am from a plain piece of paper to a piece of art, I am from being free everyday, but feeling as if school is my prison, from where creating is not a bad thing but a smart thing to do, I’m from track fields, sprinting as fast as I can, as I get tired, I say to myself “Stop, breathe, and go.” I’m from the purple walls in my room with fingerprints, from where the sun rises in the morning, I’m from the sun touching my skin everyday, from skin getting darker to hair getting lighter, I am from the pain that goes through my legs, but knowing it’s right, I’m from knowing everyday, is day to work on my masterpiece I am from the frizz that use to be curls, I'm from a world that is unperfectly perfect, but as I say when running, “Stop, breathe, and go.”
In this packet of writing I struggled in Elegy Poem because I didn't really know how to write about something they give you to write about, because it wasn't something that really had to do with me. I learned the start of writing in imagery and description. I really wish there was more than one of each we had to do because it was very relaxing at hurt my brain brainstorming but I felt the "engines" working in there...
•Art Story Piece
We were given two pictures of artwork and had to create a story based on the picture. We had to write this in complete detail, write something creative and out of the box. After doing this we chose our favorite out of the two and polished it up.
“Her name was Rosa, I remember the first time I saw her, laid my eyes on her. I remember her hands holding me with my wounded wing, how she cared for me. She helped me so I wouldn’t die, so I would live. Rosa, as delicate her name was, a flower was how delicate she was; and sweet. She made me feel like I was once again at home, I have forgotten when my family abandoned me. I’m always with Rosa, next to her window in the night and the morning. She doesn’t notice me, she left me so I can be free; but I could never let go. But today will be the day I get her back, and when she will care for me; like she did 5 years ago. You see, every morning, Rosa opens her garage, waters her plants outside then closes the garage and goes back in her house. That is when she’ll see me, remember me, and love me once again. Look! There she is…(opens her garage, walks to the plant to water them and walks back) Ready.. 1..2..3!” He flies to the garage as it’s closing and by a crack he swoops in! And he flies to Rosa. “Rosa, Rosa! It’s me remember!” When Rosa looks up she sees a bird flying towards her face chirping, chirping and chirping. “Ahh! Get out of here!” Rosa says screaming. As the bird gets closer and closer it seems like it is going to attack her. “Rosa, Rosa! Don’t you remember me! Ive missed you so much!” He exclaims and starts giving her kisses. Rosa screams, “Help! Why is this bird pecking me! Oww!”. Rosa runs to the other side of her garage and get’s her broom. As she is looking around the room to find the bird she is breathing heavily. “What? wha-what are you doing.. Can’t you see, can’t you see! It’s me.” He says confused. Rosa swings the broom aiming at the bird, she misses and hits her wall. 3 pieces of wood unglue from the wall and slam onto the ground. She says as if she is calling a puppy, “Where are you bird..” The bird notices what she is trying to do. “But I don’t understand, I thought you loved me!” The bird flies up to the ceiling and sits on a piece of wood. Rosa didn’t see the bird so she put down her broom and went back inside her house. He stayed up there for hours, sad, ashamed. He always believed she would want him back. He slowly flies to the shelves that were on the wall, and as he is flying he takes a glimpse of the broom. All the memories came back in a snap. He turned around, faced the wall thinking. “She was my family, my love, the thing that kept me going. She was the hero and I was just a survivor. But know, she is just a villain and I, back to the wounded bird. She punctured a hole in me, in my heart. As I thought she was the one that would save me, but she just killed me and broke me into pieces. She wasn’t Rosa, the delicate flower, she was Rosa the flower with thorns. And if, she touches you. It will just stab you, like she touched my heart and stabbed it. I might just be a bird, but I am a bird with feelings, emotions, with a heart; a broken heart.
This was one of the most interesting assignments to me because we had to create our own story by a picture. And I really really liked it. Me as myself am always thinking further ahead of things or out of the box as a lifestyle. (So for example when I see a employe in the cash register I see into her like, how is her emotions? Does she look like she likes working here? I wonder what she would want to do later in life... Maybe a designer because she is wearing really nice shoes..etc.) As you can tell I sound like I am crazy..haha.. But that is usually what I do so I was comfortable and use to this art story assignment. It was fun because I would put my own spin into it and put symbolism in it. I just really wish and would like to see if people catch them.
•1st Biographical Article For Book
Before writing the article we interviewed our artist with our group and asked many questions about their personal life and about them as artists. We then gathered our information and each group member chose a different topic to write their article about. We had to make sure these articles were perfect, and better than better because these articles all were going to be put into our book for people to read. We critiqued and made several drafts of this until it was approved.
Greatest Learning Moment When Siobhan remembers her childhood dreams, she romanticizes about what her younger self wanted in life, “‘I’m gonna be this when I grow up,’ the very first thing I said was I was gonna be an artist.” Her early aspirations were later criticized when someone told her she would never make any money and destroyed her dream of being an artist. Siobhan didn’t care about money, but the idea stayed in her head and made her question her desire to become an artist. Originally, she started college as an English major, but by her junior year her love for art made her change her mind and major. Art wasn’t just fun; it was a challenge; it was actually something that made her feel like an interesting person. She was finally following her dreams. Growing up with a single mom that was an artist, then finding out that her father was also an artist was something life changing from her past. Her father modeling for her that you can be an artist, that it is an actual valid thing you can do in the world. “If you want to be an artist you can.” He said. Her father changed the way she looks at life. “I never grew up feeling that I needed to be put into a field to make money. I grew up thinking, ‘you go into the field that is the most interesting to you and you will figure it out,’” Siobhan said. “Follow your bliss. Sometimes you have tendency to stop yourself from pursuing things because you are too self conscious, but it doesn't go away. You just have to believe in yourself.” These are words that Siobhan lives by, her motto.
In this part of the project of the book "A Tiny House is Where The HeART is", welearned how to write biographies about a person and creating them very professionally sounding. I liked doing this because I was always on the look for information, so I would constantly email our artist..or I would try to find things on the internet about a specific thing and felt like I was an investigator or a documentarist. I struggled in the vocabulary at first but then after got introduced to a better fitting language.
2nd Semester Writing Pieces
•2nd Biographical Article For Book
This 2nd article we wrote is about their work and process. We each differently connected their artwork into fitting into the tiny house or about our sketch up begins we created specifically for them.
Artwork Who can be an artist, a photography teacher, a mother, and a wife all in the same day? Siobhan Arnold can, and is. I don’t know about any of you, but I've never met someone who can multitask like this! Once in awhile she will work at night but is mostly she is a daytime worker. A separate work studio other than her house is very appropriate since she lives with her two sons and husband who also is an artist. They both have there own art style and supplies so they need the most room they can each have. Siobhan works with fabric, thread, photography, drawing, printmaking and installation, she has many ways of expressing and making her art. Since she is always so personal with it, every single art piece of hers has it’s own different story. The emotions that Siobhan experiences while working on a piece may vary from excitement to frustration, to a feeling of accomplishment when she feels that the work is done. There is also a sense of love for her work. Siobhan doesn’t have just one favorite art piece, she says, “It changes over time depending on what I'm thinking, feeling or experiencing at that time in my life.” But, she did really like one of her artworks called, "The Melancholic Magdalene" created in 2010. In this piece is a figure of a woman in a yellow dress with a red curtain behind her and a wall of dripping honey. “But there is not actually a person there, just an empty dress as if the woman was erased,” Siobhan explained. This is a photograph that was made of a scene Siobhan created in her studio. The Melancholic Magdalene comes from the biblical story of Mary Magdalene, but it is based on a specific painting by a female artist, Artemisia Gentileschi, in the 1600's. She explained how she was interested in both the female subject and the female artist, particularly during a time period in which women weren't encouraged to be artists. Siobhan said, “I was also interested in how the subject was rendered - the use of fabric and drapery in the telling of her story. That's why I created the work entirely out of fabric.” Siobhan made several versions of this piece before finally settling on the finished product. She says that it is hard to explain how she decided when the work was finished. Siobhan described it as a “magical moment,” realizing that you got it. This took around several weeks to finish and she keeps it nice and wrapped in her studio. Siobhan has an amazing personality, a great sense of humor, intelligent and is outgoing. And to top it all off, Siobhan is wicked talented! With every detail we add to her space it will become even better, we know that this will come out looking spectacular. I can tell you, Siobhan will end up contented, pleased and fit right into her new work studio.
In this 2nd Biographical article I struggled on the topic because originally I had a different one. Later it wasn't really coming together by causes like not having enough information or writing about the same over and over again and it just wasn't working out. I liked that we created a 2nd article because they are very fun to make for me. All the struggles at first then at the end seeing our work turn into something amazing I never thought of being. I learned how to put spins on things and not make something completely boring when talking about something not that interesting to some people.
We started reading a book called The House on Mango Street by S.C.It is about being a teenager and coming of age, society, family, identity, home, femininity, and belonging. This book is written in short vignettes that are very detailed and symbolic. We broke each and every single symbolic word that was in this book together, every chapter/vignette we had to answer a question and reflect about that specify topic. When doing this we had to construct story and have many literary devises. We chose 5 from the whole packet of our stories and cleaned them up.
The Cat That Stayed You see that cardboard box over there? Yeah, that’s my house. And over there, the dozens of fur balls that are jumping around? Those are my pups. I have one bowl of water a day for my family, a raggy chewed up toy that smells like it has been ran over by a car and thrown into a dumpster. And we have our master that lives right in front of our yard, he's never usually around but sometimes he comes over and plays with us! He grabs us by the tails and throws us to the curb, but then we come back and do it again the next day. Fido, Chu Chu and Brownie are the most stressful of them all. They always end up missing or are dirty, or get in fights with the next door cat. One day Fido, Chu Chu and Brownie ran off to the street, I tried calling them for a second but they kept running away. So I just had to wait for them to come back, I was really just sleeping but it’s the same thing right? Later in the day Chu Chu and Brownie come back and tell me that Fido went to play with the cat again, wait was it Fido or Chu Chu? I don’t remember but I knew he was gonna come back later so I slept some more. A couple of days had passed but he hasn't returned. Maybe he slept over at one of the neighbors houses I said, they always do that anyways. But the third dog never returned. Everything was all still normal, one chewed toy, one cardboard box, our playful master, the cat next door, but the cat had a lump in its stomach and we never knew why.. Just 11 pups. The Sad Leaf Watching The fear, the suffer, the pain. I can’t stand it. My eyes can feel, my ears can feel, my heart can feel. I’m crying as I see the tree being cut down, and me being the leaves. I feel each stitch on the blanket being torn by the baby's anger. I can feel, the chewing, the munching eating me slowly away. I can feel the noise of it, the wet sound like oatmeal going down your throat. Like my tears that running down my face. The sound I can’t stand of them in pain, it is as if when they open their lungs to scream, my lungs close. I can’t breathe. The shaking and goosebumps and it’s only getting worse. “Please, don’t do it!” I just didn’t want you to get hurt. There Will Be a Next One ♪Pink, blue, orange, yellow, purple♪, this is what I see. Colors, colors everywhere like a painting. It is as if I were looking at watercolors blending together magically. I look up and I think to myself, “Wow, God is an artist”. Sunsets, they only last for a while but I try to enjoy every second of it as it's slowly fading away. And, I know tomorrow, there will be another, and another every other single day. My First... The first Barbie, the first coloring book, my first bike, my new pink and purple helmet. My first cut on my knee, my roller skating party. My 54 crayola pack I never let anyone use, my pink fur secret journal. My first love, cake frosting. The first Chuck E Cheese party, my first iPad. The first pair of converse, my robe with monkeys and hearts. The first scary Halloween costume, my second pair of converse. The new dog, my first mini diamond earrings, my second even smaller diamond earrings after losing the first. The purple Wimpy Kid book, the black sharpie pen, my first plant. The game of life, my first M magazine I bought. My first phone, my real running shoes. The first tube of mascara, the special fancy perfume, my first wallet. My curling iron, the track spikes, my first debit card, my actual house keys. The first day of High School. My first day realizing that growing up isn't about having “heels” or “makeup”. It’s about responsibility, maturity, reflecting, empathy, self improvement, control, taking ownership, listening, accepting, and communication. I learned throughout my life that these are the things that help us grow up and become young adults. The House on The Block My house is the house that was pure dirt nine years ago. The house with a huge backyard where 3 dogs wander around. Lemons and oranges that have fallen under their trees. My house is the house to get the most attention on the block. Even the most attention to burglars. My house has windows everywhere and rooms and rooms. The house that has papers all over the office stacked on the floor, tables and corners of the room. The house on the block with trucks in our property. The house with bushes of flowers and surrounded by green. I live where pink and white doves fly above our house in the mornings. The house that gets half decorated for Christmas because there is “no time”. My house is the house that not everyone usually gets to have and might seem to have everything. And it does, not because of the appearance but because all our memories that we have gone through on this house, on the block.
These assignments were also some of my favorites because they made my mind completely think out of the box while putting my own style in it. I learned that it is okay to get out of your comfort zone because that is when the creative juices come in. I also learned and struggled that it is okay to get all the emotions you feel out because you feel very strong about what you are talking about because you know what you are talking about and can be incredibly descriptive because you have felt everything you have been writing about. I really hope one other day there will be a next time in doing these or just in my free time!
•Original Shakespearean Sonnet
Before reading Romeo and Juliet we learned about Shakespeare's writing so we could fully understand the book. We learned about the Elizabeathean language, sonnets, unstressed and stressed sounds, quatrains, couplet, iambic pentameter, fourteen lines, and the rhythm pattern. We later practiced all of this by creating part of a sonnet with a group of people, reading o few of Shakespeare's sonnets and analyzing them. We then wrote our own Sonnet about something or someone we loved using Shakespeare's same format and writing.
The More Love The More Pain Big thighs, shin splints, spike scars, sock tans per year. Running in pain, out of breath through event. With blood, sweat and the occasional tear. To this might sound like hell it is much different. People ask why run, like asking why eat. A lifestyle being mentally challenged. Progress and hard work showed when you compete. As training like a beast never damaged. But when losing that privilege you lie. Trapped in a box with pain thats expressing. When losing that power you just deny. Watching them change me lane as progressing. With love comes pain, more love: greater pain. But one day I will reign without a chain.
This assignment was very interesting to me. I learned many things about Shakespeare himself as a person. I learned about his writing and how thoughtful it is with sounds and feelings. I struggled a lot in creating a sonnet using words I actually meant that covered everything. That it had enough syllables and rhymed and also went with my other words. At the end it ended up how I wanted it to be, very powerful and is not only being read but also felt.