Narrative 1
Introduction
The Narrative 1 unit at Freestyle was an exercise in storytelling. We learned and applied the elements of story structure and character arc to various forms of literature, artwork, and filmmaking. Beginning with introductory applications such as brainstorms, plot maps, and storyboards, we fabricated a variety of narrative stories in all three of our courses. We learned to further develop our ideas into tangible art forms, utilizing a variety of medias and producing a wide repertoire of stories.
Story
In English, we were tasked with writing a “Flash Fiction” story. This involved crafting a full story and character arc, all within the span of a few pages. I wanted to write about growing up, as seen through the mother-daughter relationship. I wanted to tackle that growing urge for independence that occurs during a coming-of-age, while also calling attention to the simultaneously evolving parallels between a mother and daughter.
After writing the flash fiction, we adapted it to audio in Digital Media. I improved my knowledge of recording audio by getting to know by Tascam recorder. When recording my story, I stood in a closet, as to avoid echo, and recorded each paragraph separately. Once I had the audio files, I put them all together in Pro Tools, cutting out mistakes and ensuring a smooth product. I wanted to make the recording more engaging, so I added music and sound effects. Learning how to adjust volume and timing of the sound effects in Pro Tools was a struggle, but I eventually gained an apt understanding of the technology’s mechanisms. Hearing my story come to life in this step of the process was truly incredible, and I’m endlessly grateful to have the tools and knowledge to do it again.
The Always House
Hmmhmmhmmmmmmmmmhm…
She was always humming. She was always humming because she always could. She always could because she could always do whatever she wanted in a house that was always hers. In her always house, Eden was never told that “children should be seen and not heard.” In her always house, in which she lived alone, she could sing and dance and play and shout and skip and laugh and eat whatever she wanted without ever having to worry about a scolding.
Plink.
A pebble fell from the house’s pebbled exterior. Eden added it to her collection of fallen pebbles. She had nine. Eden loved her always house, but it was old, and susceptible to sporadic crumbles. Living in an old house made Eden feel special, like she was old too. She always made sure to take care of the house; pushing all the dust bunnies to one corner, shining the forks twice, and pushing back the peeling wallpaper. She pretty much spent all of her time taking care of the house. She wore beautiful, flowy, entirely too-big dresses while attending to her household tasks. It was all very adult, in her humble opinion.
It was all great, but the best part of the always house, by far, was the garden. Eden’s garden. She could spend alllllllll day in the garden, pruning it into exactly what she wanted it to be. She grew yellow and pink roses which were taller than her, and any that were too short, or too thorny, she uprooted. The bad thing about uprooting was that it seemed to disrupt the other flowers, which would wilt and sometimes die. Eden always felt bad, but when the time came, she kept cutting the short, thorny flowers. All she wanted was a garden that demonstrated her, and imperfection did not. It was exhausting, taking care of her most prized thing, and the day’s work always had Eden ready for bed.
Plink. Another for the collection.
She’d always thought that girls without bedtimes didn’t need sleep, but living alone, in the always house, had proved her wrong. And so, tonight, just as she does every night at 8:01, Eden dragged her tired legs up the three flights of stairs, pushed her bedroom door open with fatigued force, and crawled into her moth-eaten duvet. She fell asleep on the first blink.
Eden? Eeeeeeeeeeeedddeeeeeennnn…
Waking up was hard. It felt as though the always house became haunted at night. No matter how deep in sleep she was, she would hear voices. A familiar voice she couldn’t quite place. This voice held a sort of tangibility; tossing and turning her throughout the night, preventing her from a full rest. And so, waking up was hard.
Plink. Plink. Huh. Two pebbles.
Eden rose to collect the pebbles from outside, lifting one limb at a time out of bed, dragging her feet along the creaking floorboards, sitting and sliding down all three flights of stairs. When she completed her journey to the outside, she bent down to pick up the pebbles and frowned. Her hands weren’t her hands. Well they were her hands… but… not? When she looked down, her hands had become a woman’s hands. Fat fingers had been replaced by delicate skin that stretched over her knuckles, and knowing lines, lines of experience, had taken form across her palm. These were lived-in hands; hands that had felt more than Eden’s did. When she picked up the pebble, even touching felt different. She had no inclination to grab, she only reached. Slow movements demonstrating a patience and expectation that Eden didn’t have. These weren’t her hands.
THUD.
Eden turned to see that a massive stone, belonging to the house’s masonry, had fallen from the wall, but that wasn’t what had caught her attention. As she turned, she caught her reflection in the window, only it wasn’t her face. She barely recognized the face; she barely remembered a life before the always house. And then she did. She remembered the reprimands and the punishment and the fighting and the expectations. She remembered the bedtimes and she remembered the endless scoldings. Worst of all, she remembered feeling like a short, thorny flower. When she saw her reflection in the window, she was beyond unhappy to see that what was reflecting back at her, was her mother’s face.
She heard a rumbling. Then a distant crash. Then a closer crash. Then she was dodging stones from every direction. It didn’t even seem like the stones were falling, more as though they were being thrown, as though there was a tornado circling just the house. It was all falling to pieces. Everything she loved, crashing into dust. She wouldn’t let this happen. She ran back into the house. She didn’t care if she got hurt, she wouldn’t let this sanctuary be taken from her. She pulled open the door, taking it off its hinges as she did so, and charged towards the kitchen. She grabbed all of her extra-shiny forks and made for the stairs. As she stormed up the stairs, faster than she ever had, she ran her hand against the wall, making sure the wallpaper was extra secure. As soon as she saw it she leaped for her bed, sending both it and her crashing through the floor. While she was falling, she managed to wrap herself in the holey duvet. One last comfort.
BANG.
The bed fell, and with it, the rest of the house.
Hmmhmmhmmmmmmmmmhm…
“Eden? Eeeeeeeeeeeedddeeeeeennnn…”
Eden was scared to open her eyes. She felt weight on her from outside the blanket, but it didn’t hurt. The pressure increased, but it didn’t hurt. Eden tried to poke her head out of the blanket, but she was drowning in fabric. Suddenly, a hand reached through the sea of sheets, a hand that, not too long ago, belonged to her.
“Mom?”
“Oh, Eden – it’s just a bad dream, we all get them. You can go back to sleep now.” Eden’s mom said goodnight but she didn’t leave. She stayed to hum Eden back to sleep.
Hmmhmmhmmmmmmmmmhm…
Illustrations
Using technology as a tool for illustration is an important skill, and it’s one we delved into in Digital Media in the Narrative I unit. We became very well-versed in Adobe Illustrator, applying it to graphic design, including album art, website section banners, and clothing design.
Illustrator Sweatshirt Designs
For my Illustrator project, I chose to infuse a design on a sweatshirt. I designed a subway-stop-esque “2nd Street” logo, an homage to the street that I live on, and surrounded it with fish. The illustration represents how there’s a lot out there in the world, but at the center is home.
Music
In order to explore more ways of storytelling, we considered how music could be utilized. In Digital Media, we made a parody song with our own original lyrics, then blended it with the original song using Adobe Audition.
I met with my group members, Julia and Mal, to write parody lyrics to “Let the Light In” by Lana Del Rey. These writing sessions were full of laughter and poorly-paralleled lyrics, but the end-product is something we’re all proud of. The lyrics are heavily freestyle-inspired (thank you for the constant inspo, freestyle!!).
wake you up at home quarter to 10
ask if youre ready to film
Late start, meditate, do it over again
wake up at home quarter to nine
Brain storm record open audition
dont be actin like big brother aint watchinn
cos 10.250.4.173
i just smile cos i see mr floooo
he knows that i got food in that fridge
ooo let the light in
at the film door begging mr taylor to let us come in
ooo turn the aperture down
check the iso dont let it go over 800
pick you up around quarter to 2
usually weve got somethin to do
grecoo it, maybe go and MLA cite your sources
got my lense on tight cos you know theres no shake
look at us embracing the shake, we’re thriving
in the stu and we write our parody song
Film
All of the narrative techniques we learned in Digital Media and English culminated in our Film Narrative Production. Not only was it the most rewarding, but it was the most intensive.
To begin our journey of bringing a story to life, we had to first learn the basics of film language. To do so, we made a short video emulating Griffith’s Pattern.
After we learned the film conventions for introducing a scene, we learned how to better capture an audience’s attention. We demonstrated what we learned by creating a suspense scene.
After we improved our storytelling skills in the context of film language, we focused on the technicalities of film; how best to relay a feeling through camera and editing ability.
Then the time came to put all of what we’d learned together into a final narrative product: the narrative film.
Narrative Synopsis:
My narrative synopsis is what I pitched to the class, and what was torn apart and completely rewritten.
Narrative Storyboard:
The storyboard assignment occurred after we had made our partners for the film, and it was a collaborative project in which we wrote down our story visually. It, too, underwent revision and ultimately depicted our fully realized film.
Narrative Trailer:
It finally came time to produce our vision. Our final film came to a run-time of 13 minutes, but here’s a quick trailer.
Narrative Film:
And if you’re still interested… Here’s the final cut!