Animal Farm

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Poetry Out Loud Performances

Okay, so I watched "Sonnet CXXX My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like the Sun", by William Shakespeare, performed by Allison Strong. Her physical presence was really great, but her voice and articulation was amazing. Well, not amazing. How can someone who is reciting poems be amazing? I'll say it's... very good. Yep. She articulated the words crisp and clearly. You could obviously tell she actually got the meaning of the poem/sonnet. She spoke loud and fast at some parts to accentuates some parts of the poem, and soft and slow at others, creating 'texture' for the listener. She also had a lot of confidence. And the poem rhymed, and she didn't do it in a 'sing song'y voice.


For me, the poem was super hard to interpret. I didn't really see so much of a literal meaning, more of a symbolicish meaning. It was kinda about unconditional love, emotion, passion that kind of stuff. I think he's describing his mistress/wife... I think he was comparing his wife to a goddess or something. No, that's the opposite. Even though she is kinda ugly and gross and 'her breath reeks', he still has to love her anyway. In my opinion, the meaning lies in the metaphors and similes Shakespeare applies, even though he doesn’t use them to desribe his mistress, but to describe what she’s not. It's kind of ironic.

Mockingbird Motif

Honestly, in the beginning of the year I thought a motif was a rug you hang on a wall. Like a mural. I guess they sound enough the same to mean the same thing. Actually, when I think of the word motif, I instinctively put a rug on a wall in my mind. Apparently I've mistaken them too long and two and a half months of knowing the correct term. It was explained to me that a motif was a reoccurring symbol. Like a mockingbird in To Kill A Mockingbird. Reading that I now understand the awesome-ness of motifs. Because they're like secret things you have to find. :D And it doesn't directly say it in the book.

In the book the mockingbird was a symbol of pure innocence. Like Scout, Tom Robinson and Boo Radley and stuff/people like that. Maybe not Scout. So mainly Tom Robinson and Boo Radley. Wait, so is his name Boo or Arthur? Is it the kids that call him Boo and Atticus/adults call him Arthur? So that must be his real name. So let's talk about him. Boo Radley. It was 'like killing a mockingbird' to send him to trial for killing Bob Ewell. Well, it was self-defense. If it wasn't for Boo killing Bob, he would've killed Jem and Scout. More innocent people. Then two 'mockingbirds' would be killed, instead of just one... 'bird.' And if Tom Robinson was a 'killed mockingbird' too. Because he didn't commit the crime that people said he did, and he was killed for it. Lesson: you shouldn't kill a mockingbird in Maycomb in the 1930's. I hope that last paragraph made sense.

Symbolism

In the play, I was Atticus. I think Atticus is like a bird somehow. Note that somehow is different than 'for whatever reason.' First of all, this is a Bull Finch. I know this isn't really a symbol, but Bull Finch, Atticus Finch? HAHA I'M SO FUNNY. Anyway, I chose this bird because I told my brother just to list animals until I heard one that reminded me of Atticus. Birds are quiet until when they want to be. Then they chirp and annoy the noodles out of you. Unless you like birds. Then they are insightful, kind, and meaningful. Like Atticus. Because he is just polite and gentlemanly to everyone except when he is defending someone. Then he gets serious and talks. You don't really pay attention to birds until they make noise. People didn't really mind Atticus or labeled him as an extensively important person. Until he 'makes noise' meaning talking all important-like during a case. So there.

Life Lesson

Okay. This isn't much of a life lesson, more of an assurance. But whenever I am having a rough time in life, my dad's quote always cheers me up. It may not be the nicest thing to say, but hey, it works. Here it is, "Someone always has it worse." For instance, if someone breaks a bone. Hey, someone in Africa is dying of AIDS. Someone just got into a car crash. Someone has cancer. Someone has a brain tumor. Someone's wife died. You don't really think about others when you get hurt, or sick, or depressed. You only think of yourself. But if you actually do pay attention to things like that, you'll probably be grateful. Well, at least more grateful it isn't something worse. Like you have 24 hours to live. Better yet, be grateful your doctor doesn't call you and says, 'Hey, you have 24 hours to live. But I forgot to call you yesterday.'

My dad has actually been saying this all my life, but I haven't really thought about it until recently. Maybe a few months ago? Because as a child, like every child, I would only think about myself. How I tripped over a piece of wood and fell face flat on the cement, or I jumped off the monkey bars and twisted my ankle, or anything where you got hurt. In elementary school I would cry. In middle school I would scream. Now in high school, I'll just hold it in. And maybe if it's bad enough, I'll think about someone dying, and be glad I'm not dead. Yes, that may be a bad way to put it, but it's too easy to lie when you're typing. So I don't. :) Anyways, so that's my life lesson blog.

My Best Friend

My best friend has dark brown hair, brown eyes, freckles, and contacts. She is, in a way, like me, except that I'm all sorts of stuff, and she's just caucasian. [Not to be racist or anything.] We always say that we are creepily similar, considering we have basically the same interests, basically the same experiences, and even basically the same schedule! I met her the first day of fifth grade when she moved from Tacoma to Olympia, ending up in Mrs. Nelson's class sitting next to me. We became friends right away. We did all the same things. She got glasses, then I got glasses. It was basically like that for the whole 4 years we've known each other. Even though four years isn't that many in comparison to other people and their friends, some people[WYATT >:D] call us a bickering old couple. All we could do was laugh when we heard that. We knew it was true. Sad, but true.

She's the type of person who thinks about everything. One day at lunch, she picked up a Frito and said, "I wonder how they make them curly. Do they just go like that, or are they pre-made curly?" Another day at lunch, she has a Sunchip. "I wonder how they get wavy?" Now, whenever she has Sunchips or Fritos, I tease her about that day in sixth grade. All she can say is, "I still want to know!" She always says whats on her mind. Or at least it seems like it. I always complain about how she complains to me about cold. She's always cold. Like, always. We're on our way to science in the 700 building, and as soon as we step outside I hear a loud "BRRRRR." When go into the gym from the locker room, I heard another "BRRRRRR!" I sigh just as loud back.

I'd say she is an ambivert. She's not normal. But she's not weird. That's all I can say about that.

Earliest Memory

I don't have so much of my earliest memory. But I do remember a ginormous stuffed Elmo that I loved to shreds. I think I was two or three. And we still lived in California. The house with the dark brown, grease-sticky floors that my dad covered with those foam blocks with letters on them. And then we come back to the Elmo. Since I was a little kid, the thing seemed a bajillion feet tall. I don't exactly remember everything. But I know that it had a huge head with hard plastic eyes and a orange nose. I think it was a plush orange nose. But it had lanky arms and legs, and a pretty egg-ish body. But it was red and had long hair. As all little kids do, I probably spilled some stuff on it. Or got it all sticky.

Ugh, now that I think of it, the Elmo was probably all gross and matted. Like a dog that hasn't had a bath in all its life. But that isn't what I was supposed to write about. Soooo, back to Elmo. It was gross. Yeah, straight and to the point. My dad told me that I loved it so much I didn't want to get rid of it. But sadly, I had horrible dust allergies when I was a little kid. Well I still do. But I deal with it. Yeah. I think I had the Elmo all my life, so I hung around it all the time. Since dust mites, the creator of dust, eat dead skin and crap out dust. Excuse my French. So my dad got rid of it. Poor Elmo. May he rest in peace.

Rebecca ~ Imagery

Ugh, this blog post thing is so confusing. How am I supposed to know why the author used imagery so much? It just makes things less boring. But whatever. If you read my previous blog you would see I read Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. I already finished it. The ending is horrible. Ur. But now that I know the whole book, I can say that Rebbeca is now my role model. She just learns about a person and does whatever they like around them to get them to like her, then she mooches stuff off them. Heh, they, for the most part, just go along with it.

So, the reason I think the author used imagery so heavily is to help people figure out the setting. It's a mansion by the bay in Kerrith, somewhere in Europe. The first two or three chapters were all about describing the house and why she didn't want to go back. Again, I never heard the main girl's name in the whole entire book. I'll just call her 'Girl.' But I probably won't mention her much, since this blog post is about imagery, not Girl. Anyways, there's a bunch of imagery. It enriches descriptions of places, people, and things. Instead of 'there were rhodedendrons on the windowsill', she says 'Yes, there they were, blood-red and luscious, as I had seen them the evening before, great bushes of them, massed beneath the open window, encroaching on to the sweep of drive itself.' Now, doesn't that make a picture in your head? That is what imagery does to you.

I also think that Daphne Du Maurier used a lot of imagery is beacause the book would really be nothing without it. Just talking. A lot of her imagery also describes people like Girl 'moving' to a different place. Without it, they would just teleport. And you'd be like, "OMG SHE'S HERE NOW SHE'S THERE." And your mouth would be gaping open. Whatever. So, like I was saying, the book would just be dialogue and vague descriptions on where they were. The gist of it. And that is why the author used 'this literary element so heavily.' Err. My blogs are getting shorter and shorter.

Outside Reading

I'm reading Rebecca. Yeah, by Daphne Du Maurier or something. I'm too lazy to get my book right in front of me. Actually I'm not. And yes, I spelled it right. So anyways, I'm reading Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. The book is actually pretty good. It was super hard to get into and was boring in the beginning like most books are to me, but because it was a required read, I forced myself to read it more and eventually I got to a good part. When whats-her-face gets married to the rich dude. It never mentions her name in the book. I keep on thinking it's Rebecca because its always mentioned. But Rebecca is creepy 'cause she went out to this boat thing and drowned because the water was choppy. Choppy isn't exactly enough to toss you off the boat. Whatever. After the main girl got married the book started to actually make me want to read.

There's tons of imagery in the book. There's so much that sometimes when I'm reading I don't even notice it to mark it with those little sticky notes. I don't really mark much other stuff because its not poppish enough for me to see it. Poppish, you say? I make up words when I can't think of one to use. This one for instance, means something that is very noticeable. Yeah. I'm very sure that imagery is the one that is most obvious and dominant. The author is obviously just trying to make everything seem more detailed with all that imagery. That's why she was using all of it. It enriches the text and forms a picture in your mind. But that's why some people like books; it puts them into a world unlike their own. You could be jealous of this, or lucky from this, or any other emotion from the pictures that form in your head from imagery.

The tone. Erm... I can't really find a tone. Its basically like the author is impartial about the situation. I think she's trying to say that she felt that Rebecca was way more important that the main girl could ever be. She made Rebecca loved by everyone, made her beautiful, made her just overall awesome. And the main person's just like, 'bleh' and drab and simple and shy and not caring and stuff. Actually, now that I think about it, the tone isn't exactly impartial like I said, its more of nostalgic. Everyone is longing for Rebecca. Since nostalgia is when you desire for the past. And everyone is always "Rebecca always did things like this, Rebecca always ate this, Rebecca always went here at this time of the day, You should be like Rebecca, You are nothing like I thought your would be, I don't know why Maxim chose you after Rebecca, blah blah blah and such. And no, the tone doesn't shift with each chapter. Well, at least I don't think it does.

Writing About Reading

Errr.... Reading. Reading. Um.... I read. Quite a lot actually. Hm. Wait, scratch that, I didn't read a page of a book last summer other than the assignment book. I didn't even get a good grade on that since I didn't get into the book. I had better things to do than spend an hour a day trying to read these not-connected-at-all chapters of a book with too many storylines. To be honest, I was so impatient to finish the book I rushed through the last chapters and didn't even bother reading the last couple paragraphs. Yeah, I know. That's probably why I got a 88% on that assignment.

But anyways, forgive me for rambling about stupid stuff, I should get to the actual blog question. So yeah, I can only really read in a quiet enviromnet. Sure, I can get through a few lines on the bus or something, but if I do that, I get distracted by someone's conversation or the bus jolts to a stop, then I have to check if that is my stop, so then I end up reading the same line over and over and over. I usually just give up reading somewhere that's not quiet. So I don't read in loud places. I read in my room usually after dinner since I'm not allowed on the computer after dinner. I sit in that one uncomfortable chair there in the corner and force myself to read. Then when my brother does homework he sits by the desk which is right on the other side of my room. And he distracts himself. He probably has ADD or something like that. He taps on the desk with his pencil and on the wall. And since the wall is on the other side of my room, I can hear it and it somehow gets super magnified. Then I tell him through the wall to put his ear on the wall so I can tell him something then I hit the wall. Hehe, its actually super funny.

Well, I sometimes space out and I ramble soooooo much I probably have some phyciological problem or whatever, but I'm too lazy to worry about that. Actually, I worry a lot. Which brings me back to mental problems. But whatever. So, when I get a book I look at the cover. If it's an ugly cover, I just can't bear to look at it so I put sticky notes over it and draw my own cover. :) But still, that weird looming feeling that there is still an ugly cover still bothers me. Yes, I DO judge a book by its cover. Seriously. But if it has a pretty cover, then I check the flap or whatever to see the summary and get it if I like it. Once I get down to actually reading, I get through first chapter or two, and that usually decides whether I read the whole thing. I don't like high diction at all, which is why I had so much difficulty with the summer assignment, even though I didn't have a formal diction book.

But I like to read. If the book is good. Which most books are not to me, since I'm super picky when it comes to that. But I only read fiction, because non-fiction books of any kind bore the crap out of me. I don't get why my brother ONLY reads them, I really don't. So I just read fiction. Except I don't read fiction books that are about history, slavery, religion, or friendship. Not like friendship in a book, I mean a book about friendship. Like that one book about how the Jew and the Catholic or whatever 'try to work out their differences and become BFFL's.' Yeah.

Sigh... That's enough ranting for this week.