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The College of Liberal Arts at Temple University proudly announces a handful of newly renovated “smart” classrooms for the Fall 2012 semester. These rooms, in addition to being refurbished with fresh carpeting, lighting, blinds, and oversized white boards, have been upgraded with a number of technological advances. Students and faculty assigned to the new classrooms will notice new podiums, projectors, screens and control systems.
www.cla.temple.edu/2012/09/newly-renovated-smart-classroo...
The College of Liberal Arts at Temple University proudly announces a handful of newly renovated “smart” classrooms for the Fall 2012 semester. These rooms, in addition to being refurbished with fresh carpeting, lighting, blinds, and oversized white boards, have been upgraded with a number of technological advances. Students and faculty assigned to the new classrooms will notice new podiums, projectors, screens and control systems.
www.cla.temple.edu/2012/09/newly-renovated-smart-classroo...
Spring butterflies and blooms give colour and life to the library!
The quick and simple lettering was printed on coloured paper using Microsoft Word, and hand cut. Props are nylon butterflies and silk flowers in colourful pots.
I displayed books on the arts, crafts and creative writing under the display, but should have taken a photo when the display first went up. When I took this photo, almost every book had been signed out.
This is a broadside I designed for extra credit in my creative writing class. Generally, they are done with poetry, but I really just suck at writing poetry, I don't understand poetry, I hate reading poetry, I despise poetry, and I [insert any other negative connotations you can make towards poetry here]... but I'm good at "normal" creative writing.
This story I wrote when we had an assignment to do "risky prose." I did a mix between short talks and instructions. It deals with what I went through to get my solo senior year in my last ice show. I've wanted that solo since my very first ice show when I was 7, and even when I encountered some difficulties, I made it through and got my senior solo, which ended up with me skating to Kristin Chenoweth's "Lion Tamer."
I printed this on tabloid paper, mounted it on some black illustration board. So yeah, since you probably can't read the story on the image, here it is:
How to Tame the Lion
How to recognize the average figure skater:
Think about those clichés that everyone knew in high school about cheerleaders. It works for figure skaters too, but add money, add selfishness, add competitiveness, and then strap knifes onto the bottom of their feet. Let them loose all together on one ice rink and watch the battles begin.
How not to get sucked into the drama:
Start out by injuring yourself, and then do not by any means get it treated, and keep skating with it. Of course, this makes your injury worse, but remember this is all just to make your ungrateful teammates happy. Quit your team after the season ends so that you lose all the friends you had. Change coaches; lose what few friends you have at the rink after quitting the team. Become shy just so that you can focus more on yourself, you do not need them or anyone else. Join other school activities; make it harder for you to get to skating practices. Let the other skaters ignore you, except for when they spread rumors and whisper in front of you. Do not tell them you’re handicapped, just let them assume you are a terrible skater. Let your mom find every excuse for you to quit skating; you do not have as much money as the other families, you are making your injury worse, and you have no friends.
How to succeed:
With every stroke on the glassy ice push yourself harder and harder, and find yourself become more in love with the sport than you ever thought possible. Injure yourself after only five years, and even when you have lost your momentum when it comes to progressing, fight through it and ignore those other skaters. This is about you, not them; do not let anyone throw you down. Push through the pain, fight for your goal. Sign up for that final test that will give you a solo your senior year, your 11th and final ice show. Forget everything terrible; forget the deplorable pain in your leg; forget the judging glares from your former friends. Remember this is all about you, and do this for no one else besides you. Put on your best dress; be the sun on raindrops and dumbfound your audience. Take a deep breath, see the steam come from your mouth and know you are going to live through this. Dig your blades into the slick icy surface below you and skate your heart out; after all, skating is your one true love. Smile immensely; the judges are all about that. Receive a well-deserved thunder of applause from your audience, who were filled with those prejudice eyes; the deciding judges gave you above passing scores. When you fill out the form for that last show, circus-themed “The Greatest Show on Ice,” remember to check the line for a solo performance.
How to Train:
Do not listen to the livid roars surrounding you, saying you do not deserve a solo. Ignore them all, and know you worked harder than anyone else out there. Find yourself placed with a different coach, rather than the usual choreographer for all the other solos. Take advantage of that; you don’t have to fight the other skaters for time when it comes to working on your solo. Eat, sleep, and breathe solo. The lion can sense your fears and weakness; you must dig your claws into it and prove it wrong. You are not tired; you are not exhausted from balancing skating, school, and life. Whip yourself into shape dear; you better forget your pain, for this is all you have ever wanted. You are going to fight strong to stay awake with every run-through. Don’t be surprised, because you know before you even get on the ice that day the fact that you are going to fall; the difference between you and everyone else is that you are going to get right back up, don’t throw a fit, and you are going to stare it right down in the face. Glare with that grimacing, deathly stare, right into the dangerous eyes of the lion; do this until the very end.
How to be the Lion Tamer:
You are standing behind the curtain as the first act, as you mentally prepare yourself to face the lion. Your introduction comes over the speakers, when you glide out to your place. As the music explodes through the rink, you are going to stretch a smile across your face with confidence. After the first few moves, you are going to realize you are all alone, and with a swipe of the lion’s paw from the audience, it is going to knock you down. Shaken, you set yourself right back up to be knocked down again after just a few frantic steps later. You are going to get yourself back up, shake it off, and try to finish strong. You are going to return to the locker room, and while you sit on the bench, hunched over in pain, fighting painful tears and dripping in sweat, your mom will run down from the stands to yell at you for your failure. Your coach will find you in disappointment, but will encourage you that you can do better than this; she will remind you that you still have two more shows. The lion will watch, and uproars of laughter will be sent in your way. The next day you will do all of this the same, but you will shake it off after the first fall. The last night you put this all behind you. You will put on your costume and you will stare into the eyes of the lion. This is your last chance to make the last 11 years of your life worth it. This is all for the child in you, who dreamed of this show since you made your first step onto the ice. When the music starts, you are going to become the lion; strong, fearless, and confident. You will dig your sharp claws into the ice, as everyone watches in amazement. You float across the ice with a whip in one hand, fiercely crack it to please your audiences. With claws out you strike your final finishing pose; there is uproar from the audience, delighted with your performance.
How to Keep the Lion’s Heart:
At the grand finale, when the seniors are introduced, skaters and parents will be in tears. Your parents will be the only ones who are all smiles, happy that your skating career is over, while you fight tears. Your coach will find you, and stand there with her arms wrapped around your chilled, fatigued body and her chin resting on your head, as you are about to cry too. You head home to run up to your room and let a river come out of your eyes. Against your better judgment you take off your dress for the last time, wipe off your make-up, and take down your hair. Lay in bed for a sleepless night, feeling as if your life has just found it’s ending. Just know that you defeated the lion, you proved yourself worthy. Forget needing to be accepted by other skaters, forget your weaknesses, skating will always be in your heart.
Spring butterflies and blooms give colour and life to the library!
The quick and simple lettering was printed on coloured paper using Microsoft Word, and hand cut. Props are nylon butterflies and silk flowers in colourful pots.
I displayed books on the arts, crafts and creative writing under the display, but should have taken a photo when the display first went up. When I took this photo, almost every book had been signed out.
The College of Liberal Arts at Temple University proudly announces a handful of newly renovated “smart” classrooms for the Fall 2012 semester. These rooms, in addition to being refurbished with fresh carpeting, lighting, blinds, and oversized white boards, have been upgraded with a number of technological advances. Students and faculty assigned to the new classrooms will notice new podiums, projectors, screens and control systems.
www.cla.temple.edu/2012/09/newly-renovated-smart-classroo...
This image is for the non-commercial use of UBC faculties and units only. For non-UBC use please contact university.relations@ubc.ca. Please credit photo to “Paul H. Joseph / UBC Brand & Marketing”
Saint Martin’s is the most beautiful and only coral island in Bangladesh. It is one of the best Eco-Tourism Destinations among the others. It is called the marine paradise of Bangladesh. It is situated in the northeast part of the Bay of Bengal, just about 9 km south of the Cox’s Bazar-Teknaf peninsula and 8 km west of this northwest coast of Myanmar. The island forms at the southernmost part of Bangladesh and at the estuary of the Naf River that divided Bangladesh and Myanmar marking being the international borderline between the two countries. The island is locally called as “Narikel Jinjira” that means Coconut Island, where a considerable amount of coconut grows in this island. Someone called it “Daruchini Dip” due to its lovely landscape and illusive crystal blue water of this Bay of Bengal that surrounding the island. The location of Saint Martin’s Island is on the getaway in Bangladesh. The surrounding coral reef of the island has an extension named “Chera Dwip”.
The pioneer human settlement started in the island just about 250 years ago by some Arabian sailors who named the island “Zajira”. Within British period, the island was named St. Martin’s Island. The population of the island is about 7500 and the main profession of this people is fishing. Besides algae collection, tourism services etc are the common profession of the inhabitants. Water transportation is a possibility to reach this island, boats and ships (mostly for tourists) from Teaknaf. The major goods for daily livelihood for the inhabitants sourced from the mainland Bangladesh.
From 1989 to 2004, non-residential Bangladeshis and foreigners were only allowed to visit the island. However, it has changed and now residential Bangladeshis are also allowed to visit the Island. There is no electricity supply from the national grid in your island. The tourist hotels of the island run ongenerators.
It is possible to walk around the island in a full day because it measures only 8 square km, shrinking to about 5 square km during high tide. You will get the right weather usually from November – February to visit this island. From March to July, the weather of the region may well be rough. Very often, cyclone can strike during these times. The island was seriously harmed by the devastated cyclone in 1991 and yet has fully recovered, and was untouched by the 2004 tsunami.
In the past few years, St. Martin’s visitors have raised dramatically. St Martin’s Island is perfect for tourists who wish to revive escaping the monotony of a robotic daily your life. The island is all about sun, sea and palm trees. During the tourist season, the island comes alive with the water and beach sports, with beach parties and bonfires lighting up the evening sky. The island is very suitable for scuba dive driving. One may also enjoy engine boat or speed boat tour in the very crystal blue water around this destination. Though there is no security problem for the visitors, one can pop down to the Coast Guard station for any variety of security helping. There is no land phone but mobile phone network is available. So you can communicate with the world perhaps even you can browse Internet from your wireless devices.
In the past few years, St. Martin’s visitors have raised dramatically. St Martin’s Island is perfect for tourists who wish to revive escaping the monotony of a robotic daily your life. The island is all about sun, sea and palm trees. During the tourist season, the island comes alive with the water and beach sports, with beach parties and bonfires lighting up the evening sky. The island is very suitable for scuba dive driving. One may also enjoy engine boat or speed boat tour in the very crystal blue water around this destination. Though there is no security problem for the visitors, one can pop down to the Coast Guard station for any variety of security helping. There is no land phone but mobile phone network is available. So you can communicate with the world perhaps even you can browse Internet from your wireless devices.
Chera Diphttps
Chera Dip is a coral based island adjacent to St. Martin but divided during tides. You can go to Cheera Dip from St Martin’s island by local motorboats or visitors boats. A lot of Corals of various species – living and dead form the land of the island. There can be described as small bush which is the only green part of Chera Dip enhancing the landscape of this island. There is certainly no permanent inhabitant in Chera Dip. So it is advisable to the tourists to go there early and come back from evening. To enhance your enjoyment, you can taste there fry of fresh marine fisheries and green coconut water from plenty of mobile shops dedicated to tourist services.
Hotels Booking in Saint Martin Island
Accommodation in St. Martins Island is limited, so you must book hotel before you plan to go to this Island. You will hardly get a chance to stay in this hotel for everybody who is a sudden visitor of St. Martins Island. The remarkable tourist hotels in Saint Martin’s are Hotel Nijhum, Prashad Paradise, Sraboni Bilash, Samudra Bilash, Vacation resort hotel Simana Parie etc. Booking of these hotels are also possible from Dhaka, Chittagong and Cox’s Bazaar. All these hotels are situated adjacent to Seashore. From these hotels lobby or veranda, you can enjoy the illusive breeze and romantic sound of Sea. There will be some other motels and hotels established recently in St. Martin’s for tourist accommodation. Besides, the local fishermen and inhabitants even rent their well decorated rooms for tourists accommodations purpose. If you are lucky enough, you can spend the exotic moonlit occasion at St. Martin’s Island. The beauty of Full moon in St. Martins Island cannot be expressed in words, if an individual there at that time.
In the past few years, St. Martin’s visitors have raised dramatically. St Martin’s Island is perfect for tourists who wish to revive escaping the monotony of a robotic daily your life. The island is all about sun, sea and palm trees. During the tourist season, the island comes alive with the water and beach sports, with beach parties and bonfires lighting up the evening sky. The island is very suitable for scuba dive driving. One may also enjoy engine boat or speed boat tour in the very crystal blue water around this destination. Though there is no security problem for the visitors, one can pop down to the Coast Guard station for any variety of security helping. There is no land phone but mobile phone network is available. So you can communicate with the world perhaps even you can browse Internet from your wireless devices.
How to Go St. Martin Island
You can go there by sea truck, local motorboat and / or tourist boats. Currently, five shipping liners run daily trips to the island, including Keary-Sindbad, Keary Cruise & Dine, Shahid Sher Niabat, L C T Kutubdia and Eagle from Teknaf. Beside a shipping liner recently inaugurate there service from Cox’s Bazaar. Tourists are able to book their trip from Dhaka, Chittagong or Cox’s Bazar. You need to fly or take a direct bus down towards Cox’s Bazaar, and then take a bus to Teknaf, which is the most southern police station of Bangladesh. You may well go by rail to Chittagong and then a bus from Bahaddarhat station to Teknaf via Cox’s bazaar. From my have experience, it is better to travel sea truck from Teknaf and take an open dock ticket to enjoy the adventure and thrill of this mighty Bay of Bengal. You will have a chance as a bonus to enjoy the green hill tracts of Taknaf to soothe your eyes in the west and Mayanmar borderline in the east remember when you are in open dock of a sea truck in Naf River and estuary. Sea trucks leaves Teknaf every morning at 9. 00 morning, and return from St. Martin Island in the same day at 3. 00 pm.
Package Tour to Saint Martin
Beside Bangladesh Parjatan Corporation, a number of renowned local Tour Operators arrange package tour to Saint Martin Island from Nov to February. It is a wise decision especially for foreign tourists to hand over all headache of journey, accommodation, foods or anything else to anexperienced Tour Operator to visit the amazing tourist heaven Saint Martin’s island, Bangladesh.
Accommodation:
Name and Phone Numbers
Motel Nijhu Also known for the reason that St. Martin Resort Ph: +88-018-9051164
Blue Marine Resort
Ph: +88-0187 060065, +88-02-9556251
Semana Pereye Resort
Ph: +88-017-20693980
Hotel Prince
Ph: +88-017-11276250
Maya stood out from the crowd on Northumberland Street. Colourful and stylish :)
I thought I would try positioning her in front of this green background (I think its a Boots the Chemist window) to try and make the shot even more vibrant.
Maya was very comfortable in front of the camera, so it didn't take long before we were both happy with a shot.
Maya is a creative writing student in Newcastle, and particularly loves poetry.
Thank you so much for being my #56 stranger, Maya! I wish you well with the rest of your studies :)
Maya is #56 in my 100 strangers project. Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the 100 Strangers Flickr Group page
Three words.
In this swell of speech
they have reached with
gentle fingers and stirred
my heart in the softest
pool of declaration
your outstretched
soul has sailed
to my shore.
Someone’s moved into #4. It’s a young woman. She moved in a week back now – to #4.
I watched from my window. It was snowing that day. Not heavy, just light. A rough looking white cube van pulled up. The swishing sound of tires on wet pavement got my attention. The brakes squeaked when it came to a stop out front. I was in my kitchen digging burnt rye toast out of the toaster with a butter knife when the van pulled up. I set the knife down, pulled my housecoat tight, walked to the front window and pulled back the drapes.
A beautiful woman with long curly dark hair and glasses got out of the van. Two men followed. She pointed to the second floor window that belongs to #4. I’m in #2 on the main floor. She didn’t notice me watching.
Soon furniture of all shapes and sizes, along with boxes big and small, flowed out of the back of the cube van. The two men did most of the heavy lifting. The woman carried a large framed photograph up the front steps and disappeared from view. The dull sound of footsteps on the stairs pushed against my apartment door. It was a Tuesday morning.
From a small transistor radio on my fridge, the Beetles asked, “All the lonely people, where do they all come from?” At the time I thought that that was ironic but “coincidental” probably describes it best.
I stopped watching after about five minutes or so and went back to what was now cold, burnt toast trapped in my toaster. I freed it and tossed it in the garbage, then set the kettle to make a cup of instant coffee. Outside my door heavy boots thumped the stairs for another 45 minutes. When it finally stopped I went to the front window again and watched the truck drive off with the two men. The sounds of things being moved about upstairs reverberated through my ceiling as the woman in #4 unpacked and settled in.
Let me offer a small admission. That night when I sat at my kitchen table over a bowl of microwaved clam chowder with crackers I imagined what it might be like to have dinner with #4. Not here. Not in my apartment. At a proper restaurant. I pictured the sort of sparkling dialogue you see in movies, where the leading man sweeps the woman off her feet with his charm. That’s not going to happen but it was fun imagining it.
It’s been a week now. I have not met #4 yet. I don’t get out much and I wouldn’t know what to say if I did meet her. I’m not good in social situations.
I’ve seen her twice from my window. Once alone carrying a basket of laundry from the laundromat and another time with a man. It seemed to me that he was walking her home from something – perhaps a movie. It was after 9:30 on a Saturday night. They stood out front chatting for a while. The streetlamp illuminated a wide circle around them, as if they were on stage. The odd car passed by, kicking up slush as it did. He never took his eyes off her. I couldn’t see her eyes. Finally he pulled up his collar to the cold and left. She turned and headed inside. He looked back once.
They didn’t kiss but my guess is that he wanted to. I know that look. There’s nothing like the lead up to a first kiss, is there.
Afterwards, I sat down on my couch and flipped through the channels in my darkened living room and thought about the woman in #4, decided right there and then to put her out of my mind.
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The Lazy Photographer - Book 1, now available:
Celeste Chong-Cerrillo, instructional laboratory manager for the Department of Biological Sciences, and lab technician Sandra Rodriguez Cruz analyze microorganisms growing on a specialized growth medium and check for characteristic colony phenotypes. Photo by: Philip Channing
Nan Chen, a biotechnology teaching assistant (left), demonstrates how to perform laboratory-based techniques to students Alison Tamiya and Christopher Der. Photo by: Philip Channing
The College of Liberal Arts at Temple University proudly announces a handful of newly renovated “smart” classrooms for the Fall 2012 semester. These rooms, in addition to being refurbished with fresh carpeting, lighting, blinds, and oversized white boards, have been upgraded with a number of technological advances. Students and faculty assigned to the new classrooms will notice new podiums, projectors, screens and control systems.
www.cla.temple.edu/2012/09/newly-renovated-smart-classroo...
On Friday, the College of Liberals Arts welcomed the class of 2016 to Temple University at the Freshman Convocation assembly. More than 600 incoming freshmen gathered to hear words of encouragement, advice and wisdom from Dean Teresa Scott Soufas, Vice Dean for Academic Affairs Jayne Drake, and fellow CLA students.
Two outstanding CLA students addressed the freshmen. D’Juan Lyons, a senior majoring in Spanish Linguistics, emphasized the importance of taking advantage of resources and opportunities here at Temple University. He challenged fellow classmates to avoid shortcuts and to go forth on their new journey “wholeheartedly and with full force.” Speaking from experience, political science major Grace Osa-Edoh shared three powerful lessons with CLA freshmen. Grace encouraged her classmates to “take it one step at a time, be ready to adapt to move forward, and ask for help along the way.”
The College of Liberal Arts wishes all of its students continued success. As Vice Dean Jayne Drake said, “enjoy and embrace your time here at Temple University."
2600 x 2600 pixel image designed to work as wallpaper on most iOS devices.
Image source: www.pexels.com/photo/water-sea-ocean-close-up-24802/
Typefaces: Hello Lary, Morva
The College of Liberal Arts at Temple University proudly announces a handful of newly renovated “smart” classrooms for the Fall 2012 semester. These rooms, in addition to being refurbished with fresh carpeting, lighting, blinds, and oversized white boards, have been upgraded with a number of technological advances. Students and faculty assigned to the new classrooms will notice new podiums, projectors, screens and control systems.
www.cla.temple.edu/2012/09/newly-renovated-smart-classroo...
The College of Liberal Arts at Temple University proudly announces a handful of newly renovated “smart” classrooms for the Fall 2012 semester. These rooms, in addition to being refurbished with fresh carpeting, lighting, blinds, and oversized white boards, have been upgraded with a number of technological advances. Students and faculty assigned to the new classrooms will notice new podiums, projectors, screens and control systems.
www.cla.temple.edu/2012/09/newly-renovated-smart-classroo...
On Friday, the College of Liberals Arts welcomed the class of 2016 to Temple University at the Freshman Convocation assembly. More than 600 incoming freshmen gathered to hear words of encouragement, advice and wisdom from Dean Teresa Scott Soufas, Vice Dean for Academic Affairs Jayne Drake, and fellow CLA students.
Two outstanding CLA students addressed the freshmen. D’Juan Lyons, a senior majoring in Spanish Linguistics, emphasized the importance of taking advantage of resources and opportunities here at Temple University. He challenged fellow classmates to avoid shortcuts and to go forth on their new journey “wholeheartedly and with full force.” Speaking from experience, political science major Grace Osa-Edoh shared three powerful lessons with CLA freshmen. Grace encouraged her classmates to “take it one step at a time, be ready to adapt to move forward, and ask for help along the way.”
The College of Liberal Arts wishes all of its students continued success. As Vice Dean Jayne Drake said, “enjoy and embrace your time here at Temple University."
I have been living at this pet store for three weeks now. Not one person has picked me up or asked about me. All the other puppies are always taken out and played with by the customers. Once people see my tongue, they walk right by me and go to to the cocker spaniels in the next cage. I admit that my tongue is huge for my size, but give me a chance. I think you would like me. I have a lot going for me. I am considerate. I won't hog the covers in bed. I will be waiting by the front door everytime you come home from work or from running errands. If you could overlook my one flaw and see the beauty inside me, I think we could live a long, happy life together. Hey, here comes a little kid with HUGE ears. Maybe he won't be so quick to judge me and will ask a store employee to take me out of my cage so he can hold me and maybe get to know me a little better. Say a prayer that he takes me home with him!
Learning to hate: because the sweetest words
Were only there to fill the inner gaps
Of our mutual temptation. Play some chords
And I will sing the song, weaving the traps.
The sky is turning, and the taste is sour.
We left the glassful out at night. An urn
That we forgot about: it was not our
Habit to care for it, but let it burn.
Now, if I look at me – reflected bits –
I see the face of someone in distress.
My mouth is firm, my eyes no more than slits
I am a pawn in my own game of chess.
All that I wanted was, of course, what you despised
Hate comes in waves and storming, with silver needles, iced.
(Sonnet by SiRiChandra)
ENGL 016-301
Instructor: SUSAN BEE
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Studio visit with Amze Emmons in South Philadelphia.
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Amze Emmons is a Philadelphia-based, multi-disciplinary artist with a background in drawing and printmaking. His images evoke a sense of magical/minimal realism inspired by architectural illustration, comic books, cartoon language, information graphics, news footage, consumer packaging, and instruction manuals.
Emmons received a BFA from Ohio Wesleyan University and a MA and MFA from the University of Iowa. He has held solo exhibitions in, Boston, Chicago, Philadelphia, and San Francisco, among other locations. His work has been included in group exhibitions in innovative commercial galleries, artist-run spaces, and non-profit institutions. Emmons has received numerous awards including a Fellowship in the Arts from the Independence Foundation; an Individual Creative Artist Fellowship from the Pennsylvania Arts Council; and a Fellowship at the MacDowell Colony. His work has received critical attention in The Huffington Post, Itsnicethat.com, Coolhunting.com, New American Paintings, as well as many other print publications. He is currently an Associate Professor at Tyler School of Art at Temple University in Philadelphia. Emmons is also a co-founder and co-contributing editor of the popular art blog, Printeresting.org.
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provost.upenn.edu/initiatives/arts/academics/fall-2015-ar...
Matt Bates, a graduate student in liberal studies, takes a study break outdoors at Archimedes Plaza. Photo by: Philip Channing
The College of Liberal Arts at Temple University proudly announces a handful of newly renovated “smart” classrooms for the Fall 2012 semester. These rooms, in addition to being refurbished with fresh carpeting, lighting, blinds, and oversized white boards, have been upgraded with a number of technological advances. Students and faculty assigned to the new classrooms will notice new podiums, projectors, screens and control systems.
www.cla.temple.edu/2012/09/newly-renovated-smart-classroo...
As the squeal of the digital clock began its familiar routine of waking the dead, Jillian’s eyes were already open and staring at the ceiling. Her mind creating faces in the patterns of flaking paint which covered most of the overhead walls of her old apartment in Georgetown DC. Dark, long shadows created by the dim, early morning glow through her window, brought the usually ugly edges of old paint to life in faces of old men, small children, and even a small dog. Her imagination was alive in an attempt to deal with what lay ahead of her that day.
Without moving her stare from these watchful faces, her hand emerged from the warmth of the bed to touch the clock and silence its screams for another ten minutes. Just a few short months ago, this action would be repeated again and again, each time getting her ten more minutes of precious sleep after a long night of working or studying. Although then, the alarm clock’s technological crowing at first light would wake her from a deep sleep. Not this day however. Deep sleep was something the ceiling faces kept from her that night.
Her hand once again inside the comfort of her queen sized bed, Jillian pulled the down-filled covers up close to her face, as if to hide her from the peering eyes of the faces she saw in that flaking paint her gaze remain fixed on. With a heavy breath, she closed her eyes and buried the rest of her head with the warmth and familiar comfort of bed coverings.
“I can do this.” She says out loud from under the blankets, the only response to her statement would not be heard for nine more minutes; from the alarm clock, waiting patiently to repeat its scream again.
As she lay there, Jillian recalled the past six years: the work, the studying, the long hours. Today was a day she had dreamt about since starting college, but now that it was here, she lay buried in the protection of her cotton armor, terrified.
With the distraction of the paint faces gone, she remembered her first day in the apartment. Her father carrying boxes from the small moving truck to the door had said, “There are bars on the window Jillian. It looks like a prison.”
Jillian laughed out loud at herself recalling the response she gave her father’s comment: “No more so than living at home with you.” That had gotten a hearty ‘grunt’ from her father.
Despite his apprehension at letting her go, he supported her. He was there for her. That is, until his heart attack her junior year that took his life. Continuing with school was difficult for Jillian after that, but she did it. Using his memory to carry her, she pressed on, but there were times she wasn’t sure she could do it. Much like her thoughts this fall morning. But, his words of encouragement echoed through her consciousness to this day: “Believe in yourself Jillian, as I believe in you, and you can do anything. Whatever your dreams or desires are, I am there with you. For you.” She clung to those thoughts as she clawed for the motivation to start this day.
A tear ran from her eye as Jillian rolled over in bed, pulling the covers off her face to look at the window in her bedroom. The wood slats closed tight, but the light creating a glow around the edges. “God I hate those blinds.”, she said randomly, again, to no one but the waiting clock.
“I miss you dad. I know I can do this, but I’m scared.”
The glowing red numbers on her bedroom companion clicked up another number in their countdown to a repeated wake-up scream.
Her motivation beginning to return, Jillian thought about the process that led to this day. The anticipation, the preparation, the long hours in the library or in her apartment. She was the one selected, she IS special.
“But am I?”, she thought. “Why me?”
“Believe in yourself Jillian.” The words of her father hung in the air around her room.
Rolling over to her back again, Jillian looks for the faces that her imagination had created on the ceiling. The eyes were gone. The faces were gone. Their creepy stares replaced by what they were to begin with: just old paint on the ceiling of an old apartment.
“I’m ready.” She says out loud. “I can so do this.”
Almost with a start, Jillian throws back the covers from her bed and swings her legs out from under the warmth of her comforter. Her feet pause for just a moment before searching for the hard floor. “Yes, it’s time to start my life.” She whispers to herself.
Just as her feet touch the cold floor, her only companion in the room again springs to life, releasing the monotone screech of a modern-day rooster. Standing up, she reaches out to the clock and switches it off, and starts her day and her new life.
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“What Lies Beyond?” is a photographic series coupled with fictional short stories around the image captured. This is a project I’ve been working on for over a year now, and am finally bringing to fruition in this first story. The series will focus on 20 different doors or windows, and how I envision the stories they hold to be told to us.
Please tell me what you think, and be looking for the next installment of this ongoing series to eventually culminate into a coffee table book. I hope you enjoy it.
Mark Hopkins
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© 2012 Mark Hopkins Photography - All Rights Reserved
All images are registered with the US Copyright Office
I dreamt of you only one time, you know.
It was the dream of dreams, d’you want to hear?
Your face was painted with a stellar glow
And silver moons and stars studded your ear.
And when I kissed you it was scarlet deep:
A deep wild kiss. And after that, your lips
Detached from mine, in an impulsive leap.
And then your voice, releasing from the grip.
“I am the one supposed to do the kissing”.
I don’t remember how the dream went on
In time and space my memories are missing
The dream of dreams, a dream well foregone.
The ancient told us that dreams are what we are
And in the mirror – look – on my lips there’s a star.
(Sonnet by SiRiChandra)
Even though their academic interests vary from biological sciences, creative writing and theatre, (l-r) Austin Wong, Andrea Krajisnik, Aly Owen, Josh Gonzalez and Sarah Suits developed new friendships while living in residential housing. They're shown walking beside the Arts and Humanities Residential College at Parkside (left) and Parkside Apartments (background). Photo by: Philip Channing
We had a quarrel: she was watching me
With angry eyes, and furiously I kept
My mouth forcefully closed. No way to agree,
No way for an excuse to be accepted.
We stopped by a bar: the night was high
And all was dark; no persons were around.
We sat on stools, out of the bar, in sight
Of a bleak street, right at the skirts of town.
I peeped inside the bar, through soiled glass:
And by the counter I saw Carlos Santana.
He was there with a mate, maybe the bass
Player: frozen still shot, “Amerikana”.
I pointed him to my friend, as if to say: “You see?”
She snapped back, black with anger: “You know I disagree!”
(Sonnet by SiRiChandra)
I wrote this non-rhyming poem after a discussion with my sister. We were talking about so many who miss what's going on around them while they are so focused on their own looks, talents, gifts, etc. I wish we could all do better at looking Beyond the Mirror.
You can watch the scrolling words with music in the background on my YouTube channel at youtu.be/BfE-7URL1Nc
While I copyright my writing, I am very free with it just like my images, but I don't automatically list my words with a Creative Commons license like my photos because I want to hear from people who want to use them. Just send me a Flickr mail to let me know you would like to use my lyrics or poetry for your personal project, gift, or card.