View allAll Photos Tagged CreativeWriting
ENGL 016-301
Instructor: SUSAN BEE
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Studio visit with Amze Emmons in South Philadelphia.
------
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.
------
provost.upenn.edu/initiatives/arts/academics/fall-2015-ar...
Chatting about what love is, late at night:
You said that love is made of dedication,
Togetherness and confidence. It might
Bring a new source of burning inspiration.
I was in love but twice, and love is hard.
Always a one-way street, on a fast car;
You have no brakes on, often you are off guard:
Looking in a short distance, you see afar.
And it is madness too, waking at dawn
To watch the sunrise, just because you hope
That who you love would see the same; alone
Injecting in your veins the old love dope.
When I think love, I think a silver flytrap plant
Its leaves sweet scented, fetching me - an ant, another ant.
(Sonnet by SiRiChandra)
Lab technician Sandra Rodriguez Cruz analyzes microorganisms growing on a specialized growth medium and checks for characteristic colony phenotypes. Photo by: Philip Channing
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.
I never liked your hands. Your face is good.
You’re proud to look a bit like Kurt Cobain.
You knew it well: you made it understood.
You used the light to enhance your cheekbones’ plain.
I had to know that you were to be trustless
Feeling your hands, their coldness and their touch
On mine: how could I’ve been so mindless?
I was so sure you would not hurt me much.
I had to trust my hands; they knew the ending.
They saw the hardest bones inside the frame,
Learning the short clean nails, and comprehending
The man within the mask, the hidden shame.
And your best feature? Eyes, the mirror of the soul
A glazed surface, blue: eyes of a porcelain doll.
(Sonnet by SiRiChandra)
The fish was not warm
An unmelted square of cheese
They had no ice cream
Haiku written by me, Scott Henderson
Tuesday September 30th, 2025
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.
theatre / performance art / poetry / installation / readings / documentary / creative writing / music
Πολυχώρος Κέντρο Ελέγχου Τηλεοράσεων / TV Control Center
Κύπρου 91Α & Σικίνου 35Α, 11361, Κυψέλη, Αθήνα / 91Α Kyprou & 35Α Sikinou, 11361, Athens
Τ: (00 30) 213 00 40 496 || Mobile: (00 30) 69.45.34.84.45
Email: info@polychorosket.gr
Site: polychorosket.gr/
Facebook: www.facebook.com/kentron.el
Twitter: twitter.com/TVControlCenter
Flickr: www.flickr.com/photos/79921428@N03
YouTube: www.youtube.com/channel/UC0rOD1_SgjuNrkNmx59_sMg/videos
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...
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)
Creative Writing Conference 2015 was held at the Conference Center and Elston Inn located on Sweet Briar College's campus. Photo by Meridith De Avila Khan. Copyright Sweet Briar College.
Ed’s writer theme elements juxtaposed with old print from San Luis Obispo's Montaña de Oro, circa 2015.
(Note my '60s comment.)
They're here! They're here!
Somehow, my creative writing students and I managed to finish this collection of their short horror stories before the end of the school year. I am so excited with how they turned out, and I can't wait to hand them out today and tomorrow!!!!!
(Want to buy a copy? You'll have to PM me for details...)
Poetry session @Chapel Arts Centre for Creative Writing students (Ross Turner, Molly Burnell). Model release forms signed.
Photography - Harris Stovell.
I took a creative writing class in college not realizing how it would really challenge me. I was used to the writing praises of teachers ever since elementary school. I was also used to editors’ article critiques in journalism classes and newspaper internships. I thought I had talent and thick skin.
Writing news and feature articles is much different from penning personal poems, short stories, and plays. Everything I wrote in that creative writing class was passed around for all my classmates to edit and critique along with the professor.
I’ve learned to trust my instincts and take creative chances. I’ve learned not to take things too personally. I’ve learned to use the critiques that can help me and to let the others go.
The automatic writing project started out as an activity among friends and locals. I would write a line someone else would write a line and so on... Then people would overhear us and ask if they could participate and write something too (which surprised me) of course I said "yes!" At that point I realized that lots of people have something to say. I started asking strangers to add entries, then I graduated to offering people $1.00 to participate, some people do not accept the dollar and some pay me a $1.00 (paying it forward). It's becoming quite a lovely, surprising and compelling project. People from many walks of life are participating: homeless, a news reporter, academics, students, doctors, drug addicts, lawyers, tourists etc... People have written things in my journal that they'd never say out loud, not to anyone. Some of it's so sad, some intriguing, hilarious and so on... At the end of the day, every one of these people understand that their entries are being uploaded to the internet and are comforted in knowing that they will be heard. I have no idea where this is going, but it's going just fine! FYI: English is not everyone's first language here. I will be illustrating the book/journal after the text is done. I hope that everyone who reads these entries learns something about people, mostly that we never know what someone else is going through.
Feel free to stop by my facebook page if you like: www.facebook.com/collageandautomaticwriting/
This is a poem I wrote at school when I was 9 or 10 years old. We were given a title, and had to write a poem based on it. I remember the teacher liking it, and the headmistress. Several years later, the headmistress retired. My dad went to her retirement party, as he was on the board of governors at the school. She gave him this to bring home. Apparently she had liked it so much that she had framed it, and kept it in her office. I think I typed this out on the BBC computer we had at school, and it was printed on a dot matrix printer. I like it, although I cringe at my use of the word "surrealism"...must have seemed quite pretentious for a 9 or 10 year old to use a word like that, and I vaguely remember only using it as I had just learned the word and thought it would be impressive to use.
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
theatre / performance art / poetry / installation / readings / documentary / creative writing / music
Πολυχώρος Κέντρο Ελέγχου Τηλεοράσεων / TV Control Center
Κύπρου 91Α & Σικίνου 35Α, 11361, Κυψέλη, Αθήνα / 91Α Kyprou & 35Α Sikinou, 11361, Athens
Τ: (00 30) 213 00 40 496 || Mobile: (00 30) 69.45.34.84.45
Email: info@polychorosket.gr
Site: polychorosket.gr/
Facebook: www.facebook.com/kentron.el
Twitter: twitter.com/TVControlCenter
Flickr: www.flickr.com/photos/79921428@N03
YouTube: www.youtube.com/channel/UC0rOD1_SgjuNrkNmx59_sMg/videos
“Have you forgotten me?” this is her song.
A wasp jailed in a room, hitting the panes
Of the clean windows: her spinning wheel of gold
Respinning all the lanes we walked before.
A wasp jailed in a room, hitting the panes
She sings her song, her contralto a hum
Respinning all the lanes we walked before
My hand in hers, balancing the two worlds.
She sings her song, her contralto a hum
Sometimes I sing along, to let her go
- My hand in hers, balancing the two worlds -
But she’s trapped. She sings to be perceptible.
Sometimes I sing along, to let her go
As I know she preferred the open air
But she’s trapped. She sings to be perceptible:
When I open a window her buzz fades.
As I know she preferred the open air
I keep my windows spotless, brush off the cobwebs
When I open a window her buzz fades
And off she goes. She is back the second after.
I keep my windows spotless, brush off the cobwebs
Even in winter I never lock the door
And off she goes. She is back the second after
“Have you forgotten me?” this is her song.
(A pantoum by SiRiChandra)
The automatic writing project started out as an activity among friends and locals. I would write a line someone else would write a line and so on... Then people would overhear us and ask if they could participate and write something too (which surprised me) of course I said "yes!" At that point I realized that lots of people have something to say. I started asking strangers to add entries, then I graduated to offering people $1.00 to participate, some people do not accept the dollar and some pay me a $1.00 (paying it forward). It's becoming quite a lovely, surprising and compelling project. People from many walks of life are participating: homeless, a news reporter, academics, students, doctors, drug addicts, lawyers, tourists etc... People have written things in my journal that they'd never say out loud, not to anyone. Some of it's so sad, some intriguing, hilarious and so on... At the end of the day, every one of these people understand that their entries are being uploaded to the internet and are comforted in knowing that they will be heard. I have no idea where this is going, but it's going just fine! FYI: English is not everyone's first language here. I will be illustrating the book/journal after the text is done. I hope that everyone who reads these entries learns something about people, mostly that we never know what someone else is going through.
Feel free to stop by my facebook page if you like: www.facebook.com/collageandautomaticwriting/
The automatic writing project started out as an activity among friends and locals. I would write a line someone else would write a line and so on... Then people would overhear us and ask if they could participate and write something too (which surprised me) of course I said "yes!" At that point I realized that lots of people have something to say. I started asking strangers to add entries, then I graduated to offering people $1.00 to participate, some people do not accept the dollar and some pay me a $1.00 (paying it forward). It's becoming quite a lovely, surprising and compelling project. People from many walks of life are participating: homeless, a news reporter, academics, students, doctors, drug addicts, lawyers, tourists etc... People have written things in my journal that they'd never say out loud, not to anyone. Some of it's so sad, some intriguing, hilarious and so on... At the end of the day, every one of these people understand that their entries are being uploaded to the internet and are comforted in knowing that they will be heard. I have no idea where this is going, but it's going just fine! FYI: English is not everyone's first language here. I will be illustrating the book/journal after the text is done. I hope that everyone who reads these entries learns something about people, mostly that we never know what someone else is going through.
Feel free to stop by my facebook page if you like: www.facebook.com/collageandautomaticwriting/
While turtle hunting she decided to walk a bit further in the woods. I tried telling her doesn't look good honey. She didn't take my advice and continued down in the brush. Well of course there was some loud rustling and she came running out there so fast, she ran right out of her flip flops. Later saying there was a foul odor. I remember stories from my dad of the Skunk Ape. My dad has always told stories about the Skunk Ape, Bigfoot since I was a girl. My dad never tells a lie. He's a true Florida born native he hunted barefoot with a slingshot, gun or older he jokes by cars. I am always on the look out for the elusive Bigfoot here in Florida or my summer trips to the mountains of Tennessee. So when chance gives me the oppurtunity to tell my family about the Skunk Ape I am carrying on the long standing tradition in my family of storytelling.
In Florida we have something called The Skunk Ape they are in the same family as Bigfoot, Sasquatch, Abominable Snowman, Boggy Creek Monster, Wild Man, Almas, Batutut, Fear liath, Hibagon, MonoGrande, Orang Mawas, Yeren, Yowie, Yeti and the Sassenach. The Skunk Ape is named for its appearance & strong stench. Some people have compared the foul stench to a skunk rolling around in a dumpster.
The sun has dipped below the horizon leaving an illumination in the sky. Not completely dark or lit the twilight hour is here. An unbearable heat with a slight breeze attracts the biggest mosquitoes. Birds softening their calls to a whisper fetching babies home for the night. Alligators entering the swampy creek water hoping for last minute parched animals at the edge. This is when the Skunk Ape wakes to hunt. A trail of Lima beans or string of apples can attract one, but it can be difficult. Reports have been documented since the 1970’s and film captures are extremely rare. One lady who wished to remain anonymous mailed the pictures into a local Post Office.
If you are luck enough to encounter the Florida Skunk Ape do not run. Stand still and note your surroundings, time of day, weather and please remember to take pictures.
The automatic writing project started out as an activity among friends and locals. I would write a line someone else would write a line and so on... Then people would overhear us and ask if they could participate and write something too (which surprised me) of course I said "yes!" At that point I realized that lots of people have something to say. I started asking strangers to add entries, then I graduated to offering people $1.00 to participate, some people do not accept the dollar and some pay me a $1.00 (paying it forward). It's becoming quite a lovely, surprising and compelling project. People from many walks of life are participating: homeless, a news reporter, academics, students, doctors, drug addicts, lawyers, tourists etc... People have written things in my journal that they'd never say out loud, not to anyone. Some of it's so sad, some intriguing, hilarious and so on... At the end of the day, every one of these people understand that their entries are being uploaded to the internet and are comforted in knowing that they will be heard. I have no idea where this is going, but it's going just fine! FYI: English is not everyone's first language here. I will be illustrating the book/journal after the text is done. I hope that everyone who reads these entries learns something about people, mostly that we never know what someone else is going through.
Feel free to stop by my facebook page if you like: www.facebook.com/collageandautomaticwriting/
I am afraid of masks, I’ve always been,
And as a child Carnival was a nightmare.
The blank still faces, their abnormal sheen
Was just enough to throw me in despair.
There is a why: my mother rested lying
On her white bed, her face motionless white.
I asked softly: “Mama, are you crying?”
She told me back: “Go away, I’m dead, be quiet”.
I was a little girl, and this reply
Had no solution. I knew well back then:
When you don’t talk and breathe, that’s when you die.
But mama… mama… will she speak again?
She was back with her mask, her rosy coloured shield.
I’ve seen, on her real face, her sorrow unconcealed.
(Sonnet by SiRiChandra)
The Creative Writing Program at ASU presents author Jess Row in a reading from his work followed by a Q&A and book signing.
Row is the author of White Flights: Race, Fiction, and the American Imagination, as well as the novel Your Face in Mine and the story collections The Train to Lo Wu and Nobody Ever Gets Lost. White Flights is his first book of nonfiction. One of Granta’s Best of Young American Novelists of 2007, he lives in New York and teaches at the College of New Jersey.
Book Summary
White Flights is a meditation on whiteness in American fiction and culture from the end of the civil rights movement to the present. At the heart of the book, Jess Row ties “white flight”—the movement of white Americans into segregated communities, whether in suburbs or newly gentrified downtowns—to white writers setting their stories in isolated or emotionally insulated landscapes, from the mountains of Idaho in Marilynne Robinson’s Housekeeping to the claustrophobic households in Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections. Row uses brilliant close readings of work from well-known writers such as Don DeLillo, Annie Dillard, Richard Ford, and David Foster Wallace to examine the ways these and other writers have sought imaginative space for themselves at the expense of engaging with race.
White Flights aims to move fiction to a more inclusive place, and Row looks beyond criticism to consider writing as a reparative act. What would it mean, he asks, if writers used fiction “to approach each other again”? Row turns to the work of James Baldwin, Dorothy Allison, and James Alan McPherson to discuss interracial love in fiction, while also examining his own family heritage as a way to interrogate his position. A moving and provocative book that includes music, film, and literature in its arguments, White Flights is an essential work of cultural and literary criticism.
PRAISE
“Row has produced a thoughtful and timely meditation that serves as a call to white writers.”—Pop Matters
“This intelligent collection is often deeply engaged in realms of philosophy and literary theory. . . . There is something for every reader . . . in the message that fiction not only reflects but acts upon real life, and that each of us is obliged to act for justice, in reading and writing as in life.”—Shelf Awareness
“With these superb essays, Jess Row reveals himself to be an insightful critic of both literature and the American condition.”—Viet Thanh Nguyen
“Jess Row performs a much-needed analysis. . . . The landscape of the imagination, like the country itself, he argues with rich insight and brio, is neither equal nor free.”—John Keene
We are passionate about bringing a relaxed approach while creating beautiful, natural and vibrant images.
Mike Cahill, a visiting screenwriter, meets with creative writing student David Harrison to review his script. Photo by: Philip Channing.
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."