This quarter I worked on what ever I felt like doing. I worked on making a project for my mom and a whole ton of paper cranes.  

My capstone was a book something that I had been wanting to write down for a long time. It was funny because I wasn't going to do this at first. I was actually going to paint seashells. Then I realized I hated the idea and talked to my mentor Bethany Carter about changing it to my book. then I went though writing in it. There was no need really for sources, because I already knew what I was doing and how I was going to do it. I'd been drawing the characters in the book before I even decided to write it. Nothing helped me more than the comments my two biggest fans wrote. 

Devil's Charms 

I wish I had more pictures...I lost my other sketch book.

This is take two. I just decided to do what I felt at the point the art was made.

​
  For as long as I can remember I've been locked up inside my own little world. A world where no one's opinions could hurt me or tare me down. Being Introverted person I never have an easy time making friends or more importantly sharing my ideals. Then I discovered writing and suddenly I felt my world opening up. I usually never let myself show in my writing, but little by little I let my experiences show. I give people a little taste of who I am and what I know in every little world I create. 

 I use fiction as a door way to who I am and how my mind really works. There is nothing i love more than when someone complements my work because, then it's like a little piece of me has finally been recognized as something more than that one girl who sits all alone in the corner of a room and types. It's like I'm finally being seen as a person. I use my writing to prove to the world that there is more to me than what they think they know or see. I am not just some girl. I am a creative person who has bad experiences with opening up. I am not stuck up or mean. I am afraid of everyone and everything. All you need to do is read a story I wrote and listen to the voices that tell my story and the stories of many others like me. 


That is how I write to connect how do you? 


    

   This quarter I spent a lot of time on my own art. Working off on my own to try and improve upon my style. I wanted to make the way I draw a little more unique to me. 

This quarter I maybe focused a little too much on outside stuff. My work went into a lot of other things. Especially the box I was painting and improving my personal work. In the future I plain to do more of the course work.

​

      My group’s project was on Teen Pregnancy for this project we needed to start a campaign. However we had to do so on a budget of $0 and also set it into action. The people in my group were Jeff, Michael, Helen, and Keyaira. Together we came up with plans and ideas on how to get the word out about teen pregnancy.

 

        I was the person who decided that we should do posters. While it was my idea we all chipped in and put up plans. For one of the posters it was my idea to use a baby doll rather then a real baby. I helped write out the words on one of our posters. It doesn’t seem as though I did a lot, but as a group we did so much more. There were some things that I came up with that we didn’t need. Like where to place the posters to get the best reaction. I suggested that we put some in the bathrooms for some kind of reaction. I’m not sure if that plan fell through if it was just decided to not be done. While working on this project Helen and Keyaira did an amazing job on posting the posters up everywhere.

 

       The only difficulty would have been communication. It was hard to stay in touch outside of class. I was very out of the loop at times and felt that even though it seemed ok I should have tried harder. I am proud of the results our project got even if they weren’t too serious. One of the reasons that it wasn’t taken too seriously could be the website we were using. We found it amusing, but it could have caused a loss of urgency that we wanted. The posters themselves could have done it. Over all, however, the project came out great.     

http://nces.ed.gov/fastfacts/display.asp?id=76

 

   This website gives you a over view of the rates of cost in colleges over the years. 

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/09/business/economy/09leonhardt.html?_r=1&

  This site talks about how the colleges are failing with their graduation rates. It mainly talks about the university of Massachusetts and how it’s rates have fallen over the years. 

Interview with Kerina Hershfiled 

 In the interview we tried to talk about collage graduation rates and found out that they are very hard to calculate. They only just recently found out how to do that and only just recently put them up. 

http://www.supportingevidence.com/Education/College_Grad_Rates.html

 This cite has a graph showing the changing rate from 1940 to 2008. This is a useful visual source. 

http://middleclasspoliticaleconomist.blogspot.com/2012/04/america-shows-no-increase-in-college.html

  This source tells about how over time the graduation rates haven’t increased. IT explains how and why this might be. 

​ This quarter I tried to work harder on all of the cours work. I also worked on my personal art as well. I had some trouble balancing my work with in other classes and this one, but I'm pleased to say that most of my art turned out quite well. It was a little interesting since I know have three sketch books to keep track of. 

                                                        Cours work

                                                                                                                                                                       

                                                     

                                                              

                                                           

                                                                             

                                                           

                                                              

                                                    

                                                    

                                                    

                                                    

                                                   

                                                    

                                                    

                                                    

                                    

                                      

                                   

                                                    

                                                     

                                                    

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              Outside Work

                                                                                                                           

                                                        

                                                

                                                  

                                                  

                                                 

                                                   

                                                  

                                   (work in progress) 

                                 

                                  (done in sharpie)

                                                      

                                                      

                                                      

                                                      
                                                                 

​  A sugar skull is a traditional Mexican mask or candy used to celebrate the day of the dead. They are often put on graves and sometimes even eaten. I wasn't sure of what I wanted to do with my sugar skull but I like how it turned out. When I started to paint my skull I just covered it in black paint. Then I made the yellow eyes and everything took off from there. Once the stripes were made I decided just to go for the Cheshire Cat look. 
                                            Finished Mask

                                            

                                             Other Art From The Quarter 
                                             

                                             

                                              
                                              
                                              

                                          

                                            

                                                

                                               

                                             

                                                

        

                                                 This Picture was Re done 
                                                   
                                                And Turned out like this..
                                                  


                                             Works In Progress 

                                                 

                                               

                                                  

                                               

This sign has been on my door for almost a year. It warns all who dare try to enter that it could be dangerous. I picked the sign because I wanted something that came actually from my house but also wasn't too sentimental. Even though you can't really tell in the picture there are 10 green lights that border the sign that now light up. I got this sign at a dollar store with my grandmother who means a whole lot to me. This just happens to remind me of going out and walking with her. It's also fun to think that this sign can now light the hall way for my dad in the morning when he passes my door.

“Well is not lik I chos tah get in tah trhuble ovar this!” I say talking quickly as I got more, and more aggravated with the situation. I had just gotten into an argument with my parents over a few things that were missed in school. It was bugging me a lot they were making too big a deal out of it. They never seemed to understand much when it came to their youngest daughter.

 

 “Ok ok. I understand.” My friend tells me as my out bursts become more, and more hard to understand as my Irish accent comes out of hiding.

 

“It juhst not fairh! I dow mah best tah make them happy an….grrr!” I was too upset with my parents at the time to realize I was talking too fast to be completely understood. When I calmed down enough to speak normal it was more of a south philly slang then an Irish accent. It had been unintentional, and hard to understand. I could tell by the look on her face that she had no clue what I had been saying. It didn’t take me long to realize what I must of sounded like, and it wasn’t exactly a good thing. “Sorry, I just can believe they’re actin like this.”

 

“Yeah I know what you mean.”

 

 No, my argument with my parents didn’t exactly matter in this scene we don’t see eye to eye enough for it to matter. No, what I want you to see is that accent placed so oddly in my voice. That slight higher pitch, that quickened pace, the rolling r’s, all signs I had gotten too upset to keep my crazy Irish accent out of my speech. Was I born in Ireland? Answer no. I’m third generation in this country on my father’s side. Was I introduced to it a lot as a kid? Same as before no. My father only spoke it to show how his Grandmum spoke when she was alive. I taught my self by practicing every time I thought of it when I was younger.

 

 I hadn’t realized that with an already fast South Philly accent I could easily get myself into unconsciously to start speak with an Irish accent when upset.  I never intended to do such a thing as this. I admit at one point I did use the Irish accent on purpose to impress others, but after a few years of doing so it became a force of habit. I regret doing so though more then likely I speak with the South Philly accent I was born into. I hate to do things unintended, because it got me picked on sometimes. When in elementary I got picked on a lot, but I was laughed at because when I would get upset the South Philly in me showed in how I spoke.

 

 “Mon’ that ant cool! Could ya do me this one favore, an leav me the hell alone?” I would yell at the girls sitting there making fun of anything they could pick at to kill my already dying self-esteem.

 

 “Stop tryin ta be gensta, when ya know ya ant!” they would counter.

 

 “I ant tryin nothin you’re the one’s startin something wit me! Comon can’t ya just leav me alone already!” it was one thing to have my looks and personality looked at, and completely demolished by those who were my fellow school mates, but my speech was something I couldn’t hide for too long. When I would get angry not only would I speak like a south Philly girl, but I would yell, and make my voice shrill with rage. That always got a laugh every time. I began to hate talking at all not only was my emotion in it made fun of, but I got shut down by my classmates for even talking.

 

 It’s like James Baldwin says “Language is also a political instrument means, and proof of power”. What he said made sense to me who never seemed able to find power in my speech even when emotional. If language is power then it seems obvious that even when angry I had none. My voice was too shrill, the Philly slang coming out of a person so small, and proper under most circumstances was bound to be unthreatening. The fact that everyone laughed when I put my powerful emotions in to my voice shows that they had stripped me of that power. It also shows that I don’t have a complete understanding on how to use my voice, even when emotional, as a tool to be heard. It goes with out saying now that I have no real power in the voice I have.

 

 After being laughed at for so many years I learned better then to open my mouth. I became soft spoken, I would try not to answer questions I knew the answer to and would keep as quiet as possible when not with friends. As I got older I started to use my voice as a whip. I would spit out cruel words, and retorts when angry also without the yelling. I had gotten good at hurtful phrases with a tone of voice that could cut, and burn the ears of the people who had once used them to hurt me. After all my years of being the one stung, and cut I was now turning their hurtful weapons against them. The scars, and my rage coming together to turn the tables on the battleground that was my self-esteem, and theirs’.  I held on to those taunts, and words waiting for just the right moment to turn them against the people who needed some revenge induced karma as I call it.

 

 Maxine Hong Kingston said something that works very well with what I was doing in my head. She says in her story “Tongue-Tied” that, “The hearer can carry it tucked away without it taking up much room.” The ‘it’ being something a person says, like telling a person a story. What I did was similar, I took every horrible and painful thing they said to me, and tucked it away. I held on to them for years, and years they never got in the way. I waited until I finally had just about enough of their taking advantage of my quiet, and pacifist personality to unleash on them what they had said, and called me all those years ago. “Bitch” was the first word in my arsenal, and it came out as a shocker to every person in the class who heard me say it. “Did that just happen?” they seemed to be collectively thinking. Did the small person who was almost always invisible till someone wanted someone to hurt another just snap back with a cuss word? They were shocked. I on the other hand wasn’t, I had been holding on to that, and many other words for years just waiting for the right time to put anger, and memory to work.

 

In reality it had taken me much too long to learn how to put power in my voice the right way. It wasn’t so much how I spoke or how loud I was when emotional. If you didn’t learn the right words, and tone to use when trying to get the results you wanted you got laughed at, and hurt. I to this day can’t decide if that’s the right idea or not. Looking back at how much time I spent studying the right way to be heard by others I couldn’t tell you if I was wrong, or right. It had taken 6 years to even get a clue on what words to use, or how my voice should sound. In the end I think I learned how to use words as a weapon rather then a means of getting my point across, so I still get ignored at times, and it does still bother me, but I at lest try to be heard now, and again.

 

 

 

Shannon Powers

Hazy’s Monologue

 

 

 “ Why? Why can’t you leave me be in peace? I hear your voice; you’re in the water, the trees, and the very air around me! Your voice calls out to my soul the part of me that still belongs to you. “Hazy Hazy” you call Stop! Stop I say! Please let me go! Let go of the world that so brutally let go of you. Eclipse I felt you die, I felt your blood soak through my very bones. I held you as the light, that warm silver light that lit my eternal flame, I watched helplessly as it went out never to light again. Is that why you cannot leave me? Are you too worried about my well being? I’m fine I tell you I no longer blame myself for your death. Eclipse I love you but I’ve found someone who can put warmth in words and touch. You no longer have the warmth of the living. The warmth I crave at night when the chill mountain air seeps through my covers. I’ve found a voice that makes my heart race with happiness. Shouldn’t you be happy for me? No matter what changes I will never forget you. I’m begging you from the very depths of my being to move on. Move on and let me be, when you go I will make sure you live on. The sky we once flew in on bright sunny days still holds the memory of our laughter as you turn left and never right. Eclipse its time to take that first right turn. I will move on with you I will protect and revive your memory. I have strength enough for the both of us now. So go ahead move on in your new life, I’ll be fine. I’ve found love again my fire reignited and I’m ready to move on. Though I’m still afraid to move on with out you, when you leave I will be sure to feel the rightness of moving on. Are you worried for your brother? Roziel’s ok now, he’s found his way in life and he two is slowly moving on. Are you ready? Go on then and move on in to the after life. Fly through the bright amber skies and await your family. We will met again one day and when we do you’ll find a happy life with us once more. Move on and let our once intertwined spirits float freely. Good-bye and thank you for the life you helped me keep. I will love and cherish your memory for the rest of my days.” 

​Reflection: 

 Reflection
No

Shannon Powers

   I saw the tall blonde girl coming my way, I could tell just by looking at her that it was a dye job. Here were way to many of those, and a natural blonde like me was out numbered. I expected nothing more then a simple 'what are you doing?' or a 'hi bitch'.  Instead I got something different more pushy then insulting, it was that line that said; 'give me that because I'm older and I own the school yard.'

 

  I should have expected no less from an 8^th grader at Sharswood Elementary. Our schoolyard as always was loud with the screaming of younger girls. The older girls were gossiping all over the place. I had picked a place where no one was the painted square called the quiet area, it was nearest the tree and shade in the hot schoolyard.  I always avoided the other girls, I was always a target of awful names.

 

  "No I got the hula hoop first and just because you tell me to doesn't mean I'll hand it over," I said. I may have been just a 4th grader telling off an 8th grader but I was getting tired of the bullying. The girl looked at me like I was something awful she had stepped in with her brand new designer shoes. Obviously I was the first one to say that and she didn’t like it.

 

  Behind the girl were some of her friends, all of them were bigger then me. I suddenly got the cold feeling of someone with ice down their back. I realized that this wasn't the end of the conversation. The school watch ladies yelled that it was time to go in..... Saved by the yell... I thought thankfully. 

 

  This was just another bullying case in a long line of it.  This went on for years, sometimes with the same bully for years. I dealt with it, think like poker I would say, ‘ Just gotta deal with the hand you’ve got, wait till next round maybe it’ll change’. It never did. As I got older things only got worse. On one occasion, I had been late getting to line and my class went in. Walking by people always made me nervous (it still does). You never know when someone’s going to call you names that just shouldn’t be used anywhere.

 

 I had been right to be nervous. When I saw the tall girl with blonde hair (Another one?)  I thought Well hey she’s just gonna walk by you don’t flip… Then the girl started to get closer and I thought it was clear in her posture she was going to ram her shoulder in to mine. I was in for a lousy surprise when her fist made contact with my left arm. 

 

  I was too in shock from the sudden unprovoked violence to do or say anything back. I just kept on walking and when I got to class I told my teacher who sent me to the office. I sat on the polished wooden bench listening to the phone conversations and getting glares from the two receptionists. I’m not sure if the color of the office was made to be friendly or warm but it was neither. When I walked in to the principal’s small office I was hoping for some help instead I got something totally unexpected.

 

 “Well why weren’t you in line?” She asked in a voice that said ‘ I couldn’t care less’ or ‘ I’m just here until something better comes along’.

 

 “I wasn’t feeling well so I walked a bit slower and my class went in.” I said warily. She always made me feel worse coming to her. She always blamed me for my misfortunes, like I was always the cause.

 

 “Well I’m sorry but I can’t help you. Since you weren’t in line there’s nothing I can do.” And with that she sent me off to class. I was beginning to think that, even though they tell you to come and tell them if someone is bullying you, they didn’t really care. Life went on I got bullied more and more. In 7^th grade I stood up for my self, even then it didn’t stop though. I’ll never forget the one thing that has been bugging me since it happened.

  

 I was in 8^th grade and we were all lined up ready for math class the teacher opening the door. I was talking to someone. Just a random conversation continuing from out side when Harry McDowell opened his mouth. Harry was a tall boy with dark blonde hair. To me he wasn’t all that cute and from what I heard no one else thought he was.

 

 “Why don’t you just shoot your self Shannon?” he asked in that ‘I just want to make you cry cuz I’m an asshole” kind of voice.

 

 I didn’t answer. I turned my back on Harry and shut everyone else out, staring through the window in the door. It was such an odd coincidence that I had thought that very same thing sometime before. Why don’t I just shoot my self? I asked again in my head answering in a voice that sounded both sad and confidant at the same time:  because I’m an Aunt now, I love my parents and my sister, and killing my self would hurt them. Kill my self? Hell to the No! I learned that even if you do fight back physically there is nothing I can do when they hit you with a mental racking ball. 

For this project I had the element Yttrium, it is the 39th element on the product table with a symbol of "Y".  Yttrium is used to make the red coloring in T.V sets  and can be used to make synthesized diamond. I came up with the idea for my print by looking up pictures of what yttrium makes. When I made the final print the chain of the neckless was shorter then the new one. I thought this project was fun and kind of easy. If I did this project again I would take all of my prints home with me rather than leave them in the class.


this is my draft all of my other prints went missing in the class room.

http://trexy.wikispaces.com/BM+4+Portfolio

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hello again and welcome to blog three. After a ton of research I found that the leading cause of animal abuse is neglect.  32.4% of animals are actually neglected as opposed to the 5.6% that are actually beaten. Not all abuse is intentional most people forget that they have a pet or can’t afford to take it with them when they move.  The animal is forgotten and left to die. Some people think they have left good conditions for their pets and go on vacation, and then they come home to find out that they didn’t leave enough food or water and the pet was neglected.  So really not all animal abuse is intentional. Most just don’t realize what they are doing.  

 

 

 

This will be my last post so good-bye! Thanks for reading!

 As I've told you before my topic is on animal abuse. It’s a growing problem. My Mom had a cat that suffered from animal abuse. My mom had a cat that was a semi – indoor semi- outdoor cat.  One day her cat didn’t come home, so naturally my Mom to look for him. She found him in an ally crushed under a cinder block he was still alive. That cat suffered to death. Now I’m not saying that the person was evil he could have been a kid trying to impress his friends. That though doesn’t excuse the fact that he hurt another living thing. A lot of animal abuse comes from people who don’t know how to take care of their pets properly. Most cases of animal abuse stem from people who forget to feed their pet or that they even have one. Hoarders are also an issue

 

  
 Our teacher Miss.Dunn gave us a project so we could get more in site in to the world that we live in. This is that project and it is called " You and The World". P retie catchy huh? 

 My issue  has always been two things Human Euthanasia  and Animal Cruelty. This time I went with Animal Cruelty. I choose this topic because I've always had one question for it : Why?

As for info...sorry I haven't got any yet. My charger broke so this is the first I could use my computer for three days. I'll post some shortly , but for now I can tell you the pictures I have found are horrifying.

I'll get around to my grammar later.


Ok So after some carful research I have found that there are three leading causes for people to abuse animals.
1) Because they don't know how to care for the pet the right way or forget to care for it.

2) Because they are young kids trying to impress a friend/group and give in to peer pressure,in these cases they most likely won't do so again.

3) These people are Physiological messed up and think that hurting an animal is fun or helps them be more in control. In this case there is no help.

In the begging we learned how to draw from perspective. If you are under the herazon line then you only see the top and the right or left. On the top you only see the bottom right or left. Next we drew a room and then the ceiling. Then finally this project.

Ellen To

I like Ellen's because she really put detail in to the drawing. She drew in  the tables and has a lot more detail than me. If I didn't know any better I would have said that it was a real room in side the paper.

My purpose for doing this project was to learn more about what the world was like before I was born. A lot of things have changed now in days. My parents changed the music they listened to 20 years before I was born. Everything that was out back then is completely out of style now. I like that kind of music mostly because I was raised around it.

 

 The best part of the project was being able to sit there and listen to the resins behind why they loved it. Though my Dad didn’t really have a resin

besides the fact that he liked it. The resins were almost as good as the songs them selves. Music is a big part of my everyday environment. The music from before I was born was some of the best of it’s time.

 

 The hardest part was the articles because I could never find one from 1995 that I liked in the lest. When I looked I looked for hours and still couldn’t find anything I liked. Thoughs articles just weren’t up to my standards. I don’t exactly like the ones I picked but I couldn’t exactly find any others.

http://orange10-11.wikispaces.com/Shannon+P.10