Archive for » September 25th, 2009«

25
Sep 2009

Six Words Only; Thousand Worded Pictures

By crystal

What can you say with only six words and one picture?  Not a lot, most people would scream and I would agree because I can never say anything in just six words.  That is outrageous!  But in this website, it proves everyone wrong.  People expressed a lifetime of regret, happiness, and triumph in only six words and a picture.  When they say “pictures are worth a thousand words,” they are absolutely right.  Some of these are funny, some are sad, and some I absolutely do not understand, but they are meaningful, all the same. 

 

Slide 1: “I still make coffee for two.” – Zak Nelson

            Old habits are hard to break, and when we lose someone, it is hard to let go of the past.  The guy in the picture has probably lost a loved one and could not let go of the past, so he continues to make coffee for an extra person.  This pictures show a guy with a protruding belly so he is probably in his late years of life and has lived through a lot.  We can’t see his eyes, but his lips are turned downwards and his hands rest gently on the side of the coffeemaker.  He is reminiscing of the memories the coffeemaker brings.  This sketch is shaded and drawn in blue with the back shaded down.  Blue is a sad color and it shows a lot of sadness.

 

Slide 4: “Never finished anything, except cake.” –Carletta Perkins

            Not only is this quote cute and funny, it also represents life.  Most kids (and some adults) don’t like to finish their vegetables, and that represents all the things they don’t like to do in life.  They would start something and find that it is too hard or too bitter or too tough and just not finish it.  Cake, on the other hand, is sweet and fluffy and it is easy to finish.  Cake represents the way we want life to be, so we gobble it up in hopes of getting back those lost opportunities, and hopes for more opportunities to come.

 

Slide 5: “Born in California.  Then nothing happened.” – Mark Harris

California is the land of opportunities.  In 1848, gold was found in California, and ever since then, people from all over the country and all over the world traveled to California for the gold and opportunities.  This was called the Gold Rush.  Except in reality, not a lot of people found gold, and after the first few years, barely any gold was to be found.  There were taxes and laws on the immigrants, preventing them from profiting.  People would work for days and be lucky to find specks of gold and then have it taken by the taxes.  So this quote begins with the opportunities California had to give, but he probably didn’t take them, so “nothing happened.”  This picture shows a black and white picture of a baby in front of a well- to- do house, in a stroller, his whole life ahead of him. But instead of smiling, his face is already filled with skeptism.

 

Slide 19: “Asked to quiet down; spoke louder.” –Wendy Lee

            This slide shows pictures of a lively and energetic girl.  She has probably voiced many opinions and she is probably very opinionated.  Some people might have told her to be quiet, but she didn’t let that daunt her.  Instead of quieting down and succumbing to what people wanted her to be, she only spoke louder, as if to say, “Ha!  You can’t tell me what to do.  I am me and I am my own person.”  I like this quote because it tells you to be yourself and to never let anyone “quiet” you down.  Voice your opinions, speak your mind!  Another quote that ties into this one is, “Everyone is entitled to their own opinions.”

 

Slide 25: “Older now, I draw myself better.” –Peter Arkle

            As people grow older, they tend to have discovered many things about themselves that they have never known before.  They might have realized that they have had misconceptions about life and how they have been running around in circles instead of in a straight line.  As people grow older, they tend to look back on their experiences and evaluate how it has shaped their lives.  They might have discovered a part of themselves they have never noticed before, or discovered their strengths and weaknesses.  

            In this self portrait, it shows a guy with a receding hairline standing in the rain with a look of realization on his face.  We have all had ironic moments in our lives, and the guy’s forced laugh/ smile suggest that he might have had an ironic moment.  He realized that the answer was right there all along and he was too busy or occupied or stuck up to see it. 

 

Wouldn’t life be grand if essays required only six words and a picture that would speak the rest?  Can you say anything with just six words and a picture?  The examples on this extraordinary website tell whole stories of lives full of hope, disappointments, regret, and happiness.  So check out this website and please feel free to comment, criticize, anything.

 

http://www.npr.org/programs/totn/features/2008/02/memoir/gallery/index.html

Category: Weekly Reader  Tags:  3 Comments
25
Sep 2009

Meela’s Metamorphosis part 1

By crystal

Meela was a caterpillar.  A big fat green caterpillar.  She lived in a land where magic ruled and where every caterpillar waits for the day when they can turn into a big beautiful, colorful butterfly, just like their parents.  After their metamorphosis from ugly caterpillar to beautiful butterfly, they have carte blanche to perform any kind of magic they want.  Right now, all the caterpillars’ magic was restricted to making food appear.

“Food, green beautiful food, please appear for me to eat,” Meela said.  She heard some snickers from her caterpillar sisters and brothers.  Her incantations were never the best.  She was never creative enough to make better magic spells or even make them rhyme like everyone else.  Poof!  Green leaves appeared before her and she started gnawing on them.  Well, her spells never got her the best leaves, but they worked.

“Hey, Meela, aren’t you ever going to graduate from those baby spells?”  Sigma called out.  Sigma was a contemptuous butterfly who always thought he was better than everyone else.  His comment stung Meela to her green skin, but she put on a nonchalant appearance so she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her hurt.  She continued eating her green leaves.

“Hey Meela, are you also deaf?” called out Sigma.  He was provoking her.  Meela tried her hardest to remain indifferent.

“Cool it, Sigma.”  Auga said.  “Can’t you see Meela doesn’t want a donnybrook?  Not everyone wants a fight all the time like you.”  Sigma stuck out his small green tongue at her.

“Thanks Auga,” Meela said gratefully.

“Hey, what are best caterpillars for?  I’m tired of doing magic for now.  Let’s move over to that rife branch with those juicy green leaves?”  Meela and Auga slowly inched to the next branch.  The branch was overflowing with dark green leaves, Meela’s favorites.  She started on a leaf and savored its green taste.

Suddenly, the sky turned a stygian color.  The blue beautiful day turned to gray and an ominous color of red.  Every caterpillar looked up and even Sigma looked scared.  Then just as suddenly as it came, the sky turned back to big and blue.  The only vestige that proved that the caterpillars didn’t imagine the sky changing color was that more leaves appeared on everyone’s branches.  Then, everyone knew what happened.

“It must have been Imma,” Meela whispered with awe.  Imma was a cosmopolitan caterpillar.  She performed the best magic and was the biggest and greenest caterpillar in all the land.  She was also very generous.  Everyone said that when she turned into a butterfly, she would be as bright and as colorful as the sun.  Even though Imma was the most respected and most popular caterpillar, she was never an interlocutor. She never participated in any conversations, and instead of making her look like a stuck-up, it gave her an air of mystery.

Meela and Auga chewed happily on the gift Imma had given them all.  An electric pulse passed through Meela.  She looked up and saw Slither the snake hanging from the branch above her.  Meela nudged Auga and they slowly inched away, trying not to be seen.  Slither was a horrible creature; he was a brigand. It was rumored that he would steal anything, even a caterpillar’s magic.  No one liked to be around him.

Slither’s friend Em was even worse.  Em was generally harmless, but always liked to argue with the caterpillars.  One time, Meela made the mistake of talking to him and somehow the discussion of the proper nomenclature for butterflies turned into a bitter argument.  Slither would use sophistry and make Meela say things she didn’t mean and then twist her words around like a twisted ankle.  Well, at least he never used procrustean means to make someone agree with him.

But it was too late.  Slither spotted them and smiled.  It sent a shill up Meela’s body.  Suddenly, she felt sick and lost her appetite, which was not normal for a caterpillar.  Caterpillars eat all day and all night; eating being their only objective to turn into a butterfly.

“Food, Food, green beautiful food, appear.”  Meela whispered, fearing the worst.  And it was true.  Slither stole her magic!  How was she ever going to turn into a butterfly without her magic?

continued next week…

Vocabulary

  1. metamorphosis- transformation or dramatic change
  2. carte blanche- unlimited power to act
  3. incantations- a recited magical spell
  4. contemptuous- arrogant and rude
  5. nonchalant- being unconcerned or indifferent
  6. donnybrook- a fight
  7. rife- abundant and overflowing
  8. stygian- dark and forbidding
  9. vestige- evidence of something that once existed
  10. cosmopolitan- worldly and sophisicated
  11. interlocutor- someone who participates in a conversation
  12. brigand- a robber
  13. nomenclature- naming system in art or science
  14. sophistry- a misleading argument
  15. procrustean- conformity by violent means
Category: Vocab Stories  Leave a Comment
25
Sep 2009

Fairy Tale Endings

By crystal

While going through Mrs. Lahaise’s Weekly Reader sites she offered us, I stumbled across a really cool website.  This is not my weekly reader, this is for pure fun.  You can make your own fairy tale and it was really awesome, but they offered really depressing endings.  As I am one who loves happy endings, I decided to make my own ending.  I tacked on my ending after the epilogue.  I copied the entire story into a word document and edited some parts to make it to my liking.  This activity is really fun and you can be as creative as you want.  Don’t worry; you don’t actually have to write the whole story.

 This activity really ties in with the TED video Mrs. Lahaise showed us in class about how education stifles creativity.  So why not give it a try?  Here’s my story: 

 

 Once upon a time…there was a Peasant’s daughter called May who lived in a hut in the shadows of a great black mountain. The hut was very small and very cold, because the Peasant was very poor and his wife spent every penny he earned on cakes and truffles and wine.

One winter’s day, the Wicked King came to the hut and called upon the Peasant to come out.

‘I have come for my rent,’ King Evil informed the Peasant.

‘Please, sir,’ the Peasant begged the King. ‘I have no money left to pay you. May I pay you next month?’

‘Certainly not!’ King Evil said angrily. ‘If you cannot pay me now, I will take your daughter instead. She will make a fine wife for my son.’

‘No!’ May sobbed, for the Wicked King’s son, the Ugly Prince, was a foul and evil man.

King Evil paid May no mind. ‘I will return in one week for my money or your daughter,’ he informed the Peasant. ‘If neither is forthcoming, I will send my soldiers to remove you from this place.’

After the Wicked King Evil had left, May could not stop crying. She did not want to marry the Ugly Prince, but if she refused, her family would have nowhere to live, for she knew that her father was too poor to pay the King.

‘Oh!’ cried May. ‘What can I do?’

Just then, a single tear fell from her cheek and landed upon a Dull Caterpillar crawling on the ground, and all at once the Dull Caterpillar changed into a Magnificent Butterfly.

‘You must go to the Starmaker’s palace at the top of the mountain,’ the Butterfly said to May. ‘You must sing for him, and he will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.’

‘But I cannot sing,’ May said.

The Butterfly flew into the air and landed briefly upon May’s lips, and then, with a tiny flutter of its magnificent wings, it was gone. And when May opened her mouth and sang, it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.

‘The Butterfly was right!’ she cried happily. ‘I can sing!’

And so May set off up the great black mountain to find the Starmaker’s palace. The mountain was steep and treacherous, and there were thick dark forests where wolves and goblins and all manner of frightening creatures dwelled. But May sang to herself as she travelled, and the beauty of her voice sent all the wild beasts to sleep.

After some time she came upon a Wise Old Poet sitting beside a stream.

‘You sing very well,’ he said to May with a wise old smile. ‘Perhaps you would care to sit with me for a while and sing for me while I write my verse?’

He was so old that May felt great pity for him. ‘Forgive me, sir,’ she said. ‘But I have no time to sit with you. For I am going to sing for the Starmaker and he will make me rich. And then I will not have to marry the Ugly Prince.’

The Poet shook his wise old head. ‘The Starmaker may indeed make you rich, but he will never make you wise. I am the only one who can make you wise.’

‘You?’ May exclaimed. ‘How can you make me wise?’

The Poet looked sadly upon her. ‘It takes time to find wisdom, my dear. You must stay with me here beside the stream and we will listen to the silence of the world together, and I will teach you how to see the things that cannot be seen.’

May shook her head. ‘Thank you, kind sir,’ she said. ‘But I have no time to spare.’

And then, with a grateful bow of her head, she carried on up the mountain.

After running and running through the thick dark forests, May came at last to the Walls of the Starmaker’s Kingdom. The walls were high and made of stone, and the only way through them was by means of a great wooden gate.

The gate was guarded by a Barefoot Giant.

‘Do you wish to enter the Starmaker’s Kingdom?’ the Giant bellowed at May.

‘Oh, yes,’ she replied.

‘Then you must fight me,’ the Giant roared, raising his giant fists.

‘But why?’ cried May.  The Giant was frightening and he looked as if he can crush her with just his forefinger and thumb.

‘For only the strongest may enter the Starmaker’s Kingdom,’ the Giant answered, gazing fearsomely into May’s eyes. ‘That is why.’

As May looked back at the Giant, she thought of her mother and father, shivering in the cold of winter, and she thought how sad she would be if she were married to the Ugly Prince …

And without another word, she suddenly sprang at the Giant and stamped with both of her feet upon one of his giant-sized little toes. The Giant howled in pain, and as he bent over in agony to clasp his wounded foot, May leaped over him and rushed through the great wooden gate into the Starmaker’s Kingdom.

When she came to the Starmaker’s palace, a wonderful golden building at the top of the mountain, the Starmaker was waiting for her. He was a stern old man with long white hair and a shiny silver cape.

‘Sing for me,’ he demanded when he saw her old rags.

May sang, and her voice was as golden as the palace itself.

The Starmaker nodded his head in approval. ‘Do you wish to become rich beyond your wildest dreams?’

‘Oh, yes!’ replied May.  ‘I want my parents to be happy and debt free,” May said humbly.

‘Then you must stay here for ever,’ he said. ‘You must stay with me in my palace and never set foot beyond the door. You must obey me at all times. And you must never again speak to anyone else. Do you understand?’

‘But what about my poor mother and father?’ May said, tears filling in her eyes.

‘I will see to it that they keep their home,’ the Starmaker assured her. ‘But only if you agree to my terms. Your mother and father will be safe, but you can never see them again.’

May thought for a long time, trying to decide what to do, and eventually she said to the Starmaker, ‘I will do as you say.’

Epilogue

The Starmaker kept his word. He invited Kings and Queens from all around the world to hear May sing, and she did indeed become very rich. She wore fabulous dresses and the finest gold jewelry, and she ate the richest food and slept in the softest beds. But it did not make her happy. For the Starmaker was a charmless man, and he worked her very hard and treated her harshly. But, worst of all, May had no one to talk to. She had no one to share her riches with. And although her father was very poor and her mother very greedy, she began to miss them terribly. And after a while she became so forlorn and miserable that she completely lost her mind. And early one winter’s morning, while the Starmaker was still sleeping in his bed, May crept out of the palace and went down the mountain into the thick dark forests where she lay down in the snow and closed her eyes and waited for the darkness to come.

 

(My ending after the epilogue)

After May went to lie on the snow and waited for darkness to come, she heard a magnificent sound that caused her to stir.  She opened her eyes and sat up.  She looked around.  She followed the sweet notes that flowed high in the air.  The low notes compelled her to move forward.

 In a meadow where sunlight shone through, it revealed beautiful lush leaves on the ground surrounding an angelic and handsome prince.  She was mesmerized and could not tear her eyes away from him.  His faced was turned up toward the brilliant lights and he was singing his heart out to the sun and stars above.

 Before she knew what she was doing, May carried on the harmony.  They went on for a while and the prince barely noticed the added voice.  He was enraptured in the sounds of nature.  Then the key changed and May took on the high melody and the prince stopped.  He turned to face her. 

 May was so caught up in the sweet high notes of her melody that seemed to carry her upward to heaven that she didn’t notice when the prince was in front of her, staring into her deep green eyes.  When she finished, her green eyes focused and sparkled. She looked straight into the prince’s dark blue eyes full of untold secrets and they knew.

 The prince took May’s hand in his and they walked off into the sunset, their beautiful voices carried on by the wind.

ORNGPOLN

P.S. I only wrote the ending, nothing else.

http://wetellstories.co.uk/stories/week3/

Category: Random Stories  One Comment