drawing of string

intro

 

Welcome to my Narrative 2 webiste! For this project we were asked to write 3 short stories in English, and then create an animation based off of one of those stories. In Design we created a book jacket for that short story, and in Web we created an animation and animatic.

 

My short story, Strings, explores how a friend’s struggle can impact our own lives just as much as theirs. I chose to experimentally express this idea through metaphors involving the color yellow, which often signals a warning. In my story Chelsea is struggling to cope with her mom’s cancer diagnosis. Because of this, her friend Quinn becomes very concerned for her. In the end, Chelsea has begun to move through her struggle, while Quinn feels like she is starting to “drown” as a result of Chelsea’s struggle.

 

This website will also showcase my Surrealist work. In English class we meditated and then wrote three quickwrites. In Design I created a surrealist art piece, as well as several art pieces based on quickwrites we did in English.

animation

This is my animatic! My animatic was created as a "rough draft" for my animation. After I wrote my short story in English class (those stories are featured on the "Art" section of this website) I adapted that story into a graphic novel. After creating the graphic novel I scanned the pages and then uploaded them into Adobe After Effects. In Adobe After Effects I was able to animate the images and add sound effects. Enjoy!

This is my animation! I decided to not use my animatic as the basis for my animation like I had originally intended, but to instead shoot live footage of my friends and then create an animation on top of the footage. I created my animation in Adobe After Effects. This project has really allowed me to explore the program. Using Adobe After Effects I was not only able to animate ontop of my footage, but also change the colors of my footage.

art

This is my Book Jacket art and my Surrealist art! These pieces were both created in Design. My book jacket I created using both Adobe Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator. My Surrealist art piece I created just in Adobe Photoshop.

This is my Book Jacket that I created in Design! My book jacket has several elements helping connect it directly to my story. My background image utilizes dark, cool tones to help heighten the somber mood of the story. The photograph also contains criss-crossing power lines, similar to the strings described in my short story that have entangled Chelsea. The text is a shade of yellow similar to the shade used on flags to show a crewmember is drowning, further connecting to Chelsea’s metaphorical “drowning”.

I created my Surrealist piece using Adobe Photoshop, and HDR photography. My piece depicts an egg inside an avocado being transformed from black and white into technicolor. The egg is being transformed because of a liquid dropping from the top of the image. The liquid is made of a melted-looking tree branch.

My color scheme was green yellow and violet, as well as a range of neutrals. The neutrals allowed my accent colors to really shine through, and depict the change that was occurring due to the liquid dripping on the egg. In my piece the egg represents the potential within all of us, and how that potential is either stunted or encouraged to grow depending on the environment where it exists. The other eggs hidden inside the other avocados were not able to have the tree-branch liquid dropped on them, so they remain normal colored avocados with normal colored eggs inside. Because of the unique environment that the visible egg was placed in, it alone was able to be changed so dramatically by the drop of melting tree branch.

 

English Columns

In English, our goals for the Narrative 2 project was to write the same story 3 different ways, using different points of views or writing techniques. I wrote the story from 3 different perspectives. Each perspective helps the reader learn something new and different than the other perspectives.

3rd Person
The strings had always been there, and always would be. It was what they tangled and tied together that really made the difference on a day-to-day basis. All shades of crimson and gold, the strings looked harmless at first, their strands so easy to snap. The trouble came from their sheer numbers, binding and ensnaring.


It was in this manner that Quinn found Chelsea. She was ankle deep in the threads, stepping this way and that, dodging the thicker strands. Soon her dance slowed, then stopped. Now she was frozen in place, no longer trying to stay mobile, just trying to stay upright.


“How are you fairing, friend?” Quinn called out when he saw Chelsea’s apparent distress.


“Not well, not well. It’s my feet you see. They are stuck to the ground, cemented, welded tight. I’m having a difficult morning, I guess.”


“But the threads friend? They’re not what’s troubling you?”


“The threads? No, it’s just my feet. They’re failing me, I can’t get them to move”


“Old friend look down! Can’t you see the crimson and gold tangled up in your toes? Your ankles too! Can’t you see them?”


“They’re not what’s binding me here. My feet are exhausted and I am sticking and staying.”


“But I can help pull you out friend! My knife, I can cut you out. Just admit you can see the threads.”


“But how can that fix my feet, Quinn? My feet are tired. No knife can pry them loose.”


Quinn looked and saw that it was true. It was the ground that Chelsea’s feet were fixed to. The strings were bruising her, and tearing the skin on her ankles. They were exhausting her, but somehow Quinn knew she could snap them.
“Just let me rest Quinn. I’ll come and find you when my feet are healed.”

 

1st Person:

Nicotine stained teeth, something about the nature of triangles and their true potential told through pigmentation, a yellow flag is flown:
someone is drowning.

Chelsea is telling me things I think i shouldn't hear.
Pinching the skin of her scarred wrists with two delicate fingers: she is telling me her skin is now the same shade as her mother's-jaundice yellow-one from cancer-one from loss of blood and buildup of scar tissue. She is not someone I know anymore.
A canary, the warning light.
A yellow flag is flown in harbor as a sign of pratique, but add a chisel of red and good health is gone: immediate danger of drowning replaces.
Chelsea, crusted over red vertical lines slashing through her canary flesh.

I am yellow bellied. I am roasting in Juda’s pale egg-yolk robes. Picket fence and large faithful hound. Proud traditionalism sits next to the roast on Sunday dinner. The ship asserts its yellow flag - no need for quarantine - we are struggling but we will be fine.
I remember earlier, some past-moment, we were walking, just walking in the halls, and she stops and just turns to me and says
I wish I could bounce the way some people can bounce, from tragedy to euphoria to chance misdirection, without sticking and staying. I wish I knew what it’s like to breathe like that.
/unbalance /unbalance /unbalance

true potential told through pigmentation: I am drowning I am drowning all my friends are drowning

 

1st Person


The strings had always been there, and always would be. It was what they tangled and tied together that really made the difference on a day-to-day basis. All shades of crimson and gold, the strings looked harmless at first, their strands so easy to snap. The trouble came from their sheer numbers, binding and ensnaring.


It was in this manner that I found Chelsea. She was ankle deep in the threads, stepping this way and that, dodging the thicker strands. Soon her dance slowed, then stopped. Now she was frozen in place, no longer trying to stay mobile, just trying to stay upright.


“How are you fairing, friend?” I called out when I saw Chelsea’s apparent distress.


“Not well, not well. It’s my feet you see. They are stuck to the ground, cemented, welded tight. I’m having a difficult morning, I guess.”


“But the threads friend? They’re not what’s troubling you?”


“The threads? No, it’s just my feet. They’re failing me, I can’t get them to move”


“Old friend look down! Can’t you see the crimson and gold tangled up in your toes? Your ankles too! Can’t you see them?”
“They’re not what’s binding me here. My feet are exhausted and I am sticking and staying.”


“But I can help pull you out friend! My knife, I can cut you out. Just admit you can see the threads.”


“But how can that fix my feet, Quinn? My feet are tired. No knife can pry them loose.”


I looked and saw that it was true. It was the ground that Chelsea’s feet were fixed to. The strings were bruising her, and tearing the skin on her ankles. They were exhausting her, but somehow I knew she could snap them.


“Just let me rest Quinn. I’ll come and find you when my feet are healed.”

 

 

 


Blink Art

This is my Blink Art! In English class we read Blink, a book by Malcom Gladwell. We then created art in Design based on the concepts learned in class.

The first image is a word art I created by zen doodling inside the outline of the word "Wrath". I then watercolored inside the doodles. My doodles inside the word "wrath" are supposed to reflect a very un-"wrathlike" environment. I used doodles of smiley faces, teddy bears, hearts, and stars to help convey this. I chose to base my peice on the word "wrath" after doing a quickwrite in English class where I used the word repeatedly through my peice.

The second image is the first zen doodle I created using sharpies and glossy paper. I used doodles of sweaty faces, intestines, worms, and the words "ha ha ha ha" to help create a creepy atmosphere. I had felt slightly creeped out after meditating that morning in English class, so I wanted my Design piece to reflect that creepy feeling.

The third image is a mandala. Mandalas are traditionally created by Tibetan monks as a way of meditation. The monks traditionally use colored sand blown through straws to create their mandalas. My mandala I created using sharpies and shrinky-dink paper. I had a lot of fun trying to make my mandala mostly symetrical but not all the way symetrical.