I have read this story before, freshmen year in highschool. It read the same but I had more to compare it to now. Whenever thinking of a mental institution I think of the room she is in, the wallpaper and the seclusion. The old treatments for depression will always amaze me. Instead of making anything better it would just add to the pain and make it worse. Adding more things for the person to go crazy about. Such as this character seemed to go slightly insane over the paper, imagining things that were not there.
I have always found that even if you are in a fine mental state, seclusion alone can make you crazy. Talking to people and doing things keeps you sane, keeps you from analyzing every little thing and thinking about every detail as the main character did in this story. At times I find myself going insane in the hotel just because there is nothing to do but sit in your room or the lobby and getting out is so impossible. I find we are all going a little insane. Crying and wishing we could leave for things other than class. It's making me physically sick. Just like the character in the story, I am noticing the small things about my room and the lobby. I hate it here.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
"The Image Trade" V.S. Pritchett
I loved this piece. I immediately connected to not only the artist, Zut, but the model, Pearson. There were notes on my paper suggesting that Pearson hated himself. However, that is not the impression that I got. He seemed to know himself very well. To be aware of his completely being instead of just his physical being. He realized that his face was not all there was to him. There was more. He wanted Zut to capture all of him. The essence of him.
What I found really remarkable was Zut. How different he was. How at the end Pearson discovered that Zut was not there to just take a picture of him, but to create art. To not only have Pearson in the picture, but to also represent a little piece of himself. I have always found that a true photographer shines through their art.
The writing reminded me of the difference of getting your class picture done and getting an actual artistic portrait. When you're getting your class picture, the photographer talks to you, asks questions, just tells you to smile and is done with it. Sure, it's a nice experience, but the picture is nothing, it tells nothing, it is just me. When getting your portrait done by an artist, the sitting is completely different. They are not trying to make it look "pretty" or "cute," but to convey a feeling. It may not be as comfortable and be more detached, but the portrait says something, it is art, not just documentation.
What I found really remarkable was Zut. How different he was. How at the end Pearson discovered that Zut was not there to just take a picture of him, but to create art. To not only have Pearson in the picture, but to also represent a little piece of himself. I have always found that a true photographer shines through their art.
The writing reminded me of the difference of getting your class picture done and getting an actual artistic portrait. When you're getting your class picture, the photographer talks to you, asks questions, just tells you to smile and is done with it. Sure, it's a nice experience, but the picture is nothing, it tells nothing, it is just me. When getting your portrait done by an artist, the sitting is completely different. They are not trying to make it look "pretty" or "cute," but to convey a feeling. It may not be as comfortable and be more detached, but the portrait says something, it is art, not just documentation.
House on Mango Street
This book seemed very juvenile, well maybe just simple. Although I liked it, I seemed to get nothing out of it. The class discussion on Monday opened the book to a different light in my eyes. How the main character compares herself to her sister so much. Then in class we basically did the same thing in the writing. I think comparison is one of the worst things you could do to yourself. If it makes your esteem higher, it's putting some one else down, if it makes it lower, it's putting yourself down. Where is the good in this? Like Esperanza, I have always compared myself to my siblings. My sister and I have a silent comparison, with neither of us ever saying anything. However, my twin brother and I have always lived in this competition. Who is better in school? Who will live the better life? It really does not help anyone in the situation. If you are going to compare yourself to anyone, it should only be to yourself.
Throughout the book all I kept thinking about was how much this girl was experiencing at such a fast rate. How negative she was. How if she just appreciated the little she did have she would stop putting down where she lived. Although the place did not seem satisfactory or amazing. The people she met were interesting and she had a family that cared about her. I couldn't help but wonder, would she ever like where she lived? I would love to know where Esperanza was 10 years from then. How she ended up. If she was ever truly happy.
Throughout the book all I kept thinking about was how much this girl was experiencing at such a fast rate. How negative she was. How if she just appreciated the little she did have she would stop putting down where she lived. Although the place did not seem satisfactory or amazing. The people she met were interesting and she had a family that cared about her. I couldn't help but wonder, would she ever like where she lived? I would love to know where Esperanza was 10 years from then. How she ended up. If she was ever truly happy.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
First Post
As a requirement for my english class I am writing journal entries about each reading. So far we have read "House on Mango Street." It was an extremely easy read about a young girls life in an awful neighborhood and the stories and people she has interacted with in that short time. I will update on more later in an official post.
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