Narrative 1
During this unit, I learned many skills that I value deeply. I was able to use my own creativity to further create my own illustrations and stories. In our classes, we learned how to create stories through filming, recording, and writing. I was able to come up with my own narrative, and then apply past skills to make a film out of it. I also had the opportunity to write my own short story in English. All of the skills I gained improved my story-telling skills and I’m grateful for everything I learned!
Story
In English, we were asked to write a short story using our own creativity and imagination. In the beginning, we answered a Character Questionarre and answered them as the protagonist in our story. This helped give me a better understand of the character and their personality. After that, we created a Plot Map to plan out how the narrative unfolded. For my story, I wanted to write a story about a girl that was struggling and that had the inablility to be who she wanted and express herself. I decided to create this life for the main character by putting her in an envurinment where she was pressured by her parents to act a certain way and be someone she wasn’t.
I produced the audio version of my story by recording it and then editing it on Pro Tools. Once I began editing it, I added music that fit the story and different sound effects with it. I value writing this story because I was able to use my imaginationt to create any story I want. After that, I had the opportunity to not only write it, but also create an audio version of it.
Invisible
“Violet, Violet, over here!”
I force a smile as bright flashing cameras continue to blind me. The paparazzi circle around me like remorseless vultures and continuously call out my name. They all shove each other out of the way, desperately trying to get my photo. One puts down his camera and sprints over to me, attempting to change the angle of my head with his cracked and aging hands. I gape at him, shocked that he would think it was acceptable to do that. Disgusted, I begin to walk away from the cameras. However, three paparazzi aggressively grab my shoulders and tug me back to the same spot, pleading for me to stay. I gaze at the camera drearily, sick of displaying this happy facade. I wince as I pivot in my three-inch heels, wishing that I could just be wearing my cozy knit pajamas at home. As I look around, hundreds of dazzling A-Lister celebrities are being photographed and interviewed. Everyone is smiling, with actual genuine smiles, all looking ecstatic to be in the spotlight. Unlike them, the red silky carpet, smooth black backdrop, and gold lining fences was never the place for me. In fact, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my parents.
Lola and Alexander Wilson, my parents, are beyond famous. They both began modeling at a young age, with stunning looks and ocean blue eyes. My parents instantly became icons of the fashion world, and then my mother gave birth to me. She modeled her whole life, and she wanted me to have the same experience she did. That’s why my parents instantly began putting me in commercials and photoshoots from a young age, assuming I would love that sort of thing. Well, they were wrong.
Little did everyone know, my parents aren’t the perfect, angelic people that the world makes them out to be. They actually did something a couple of years back that could definitely put them in jail. Out of nowhere, my parents earned millions of dollars and we move into a new house. They also brought home three astonishing paintings, but never hung them up on the walls. Instead, they are kept hidden in our attic, no way to be found. They claim that it was “for our family’s own good,” which sounds like a huge excuse to me. I’m the only one that knows about it, and they sure wanted to keep it that way.
“Violet,” my mom hisses through her chemically whitened teeth, “What are you doing? Are you trying to make us look bad? Smile, for God’s sake.”
I sigh and grin for the camera.
We walk into the roaring ballroom, filled with luminous decorations and mouth watering dishes. People are scattered everywhere, mingling with the other celebrities that were famous enough to be invited to the “most luxurious event of the year,” according to Vogue Magazine. As I chat and stroll around, I stumble upon a mirror hidden in the corner of the room. I look at my face caked with foundation and blush, hiding my blemishes and impurities. My hair is tugged into an extremely tight low-bun, giving me an enormous headache. My mom walks over to me, and stands beside me in front of the mirror. She’s wearing a black ball gown embroidered with gold flowers, holding her Louis Vuitton bag. Her eyes drift to me, and she studies my appearance. give her a small smile, hoping she might compliment how I looked.
Instead, she sneers, “Wow honey, you really need to go to the gym more. It looks like you barely fit into that dress!”
Without hesitation, she grabs my arm digging her sharp acrylic nails into my arm, and drags me over onto the stage to accompany her with my dad for their speech. The stage lights beam as thousands of people are awaiting in the audience.
The speech is my parent’s usual. How grateful they are for their career, their fellow celebrities, fans, and finally me. At the end, people begin to raise their hands to ask questions.
One man’s question is directed towards me, and he asks, “Violet, your parents, Lola and Alexander, must be so supportive of you and your modeling career. Is there anything you would like to say on their behalf tonight?”
As I process what he said, I glance over at my parents. My mom raises her perfectly plucked eyebrows, excited to hear all of the compliments she expects me to give them. My father flashes a grin at the audience so hard that his botox-filled face might explode. They both stare at me, like lousy dogs waiting for me to praise them and give them a treat they don’t deserve. I clench my fists as I feel the veins in my neck begin to throb. There is nothing “supportive” about my parents, and no one knows that. Everyone assumes that we are a close knit family, and continue to admire how inspiring my parents are. If I continue to stay silent, this torturous cycle in my life will never end. My parents need to learn that there are consequences to their actions. The whole room is still, while my parents await their praise and admiration from me in front of the audience. Well, that’s not what they are in for.
I grab the mic with a smirk, and my lips begin to speak for me without hesitation. Thousands of celebrities and reporters learn how my parents stole three paintings worth five million dollars, and that they used it to buy us a new house. How they taught me to lie and make excuses for them. How my parents continue to silence me, and force me into this facade to make our whole family look better. I begin yelling, releasing the rest of my parents’ secrets, and it feels amazing. I glance over at my parents, equally shocked and terrified, while the audience is astonished. I laugh, feeling a rush of different emotions hit me at once. Then, I rip off those extremely uncomfortable high-heels that I’ve been forced to wear for years, and skip out of the building.
Editing Audio in Pro Tools:
This is the process of creating the audio version of my short story in ProTools. I was adding in different sound effects and music to add along with the narration.
Short Story Author Study:
In English, we had to opportunity to pick a book and read it individually while studying it. I read Runaway, by Alice Munro. After I finished the book, I created an emulation of her story by creating my own, using similar writing styles she used in her book.
Lost
It was a dark, cloudy day as rain continued to dribble on the roof. The water ran off the gutter, creating puddles of sludgy mud which surrounded the house. The sky appeared ominous, the rain’s return uncertain, or the luminous sun would peek into the atmosphere. There, in the middle of the twenty-acre ranch, sat a mahogany-stained house. The house appeared troubled, with not one flower or bird in sight.
Inside of the old-ridden house, there was Sarah, and her mother Alllison. Sarah refused to address her as her mother, due to Allison’s lack to act like one. As Sarah gazed around the room, the small picture of her father caught her eye. Before he left them five years ago, her whole life was completely different. Sarah and Allison never laughed, smiled, and loved as much as they did with her father present. Now, the house always creaked of silence and despair. Sarah sighed, wanting to go back.
Ring. Ring. Ring. The telephone stopped, as Alison snagged the telephone off of the wall. Sarah glared at Allison, knowing that she was about to receive a phone call from her grimy, maddening boyfriend. His name was Alexander, and Allison claimed they were in love after they met two weeks before in a bar. Allison grasped the silver cord belonging to the old phone, and laughed and exclaimed. Sarah rolled her eyes, and hoped that one day Allison would love her. All Sarah wanted was to feel special, wanted, deserved, in their small house in Southern Ontario, Canada. She had no one she connected with, and she felt so isolated and alone.
As her mom blabbered on the telephone, Sarah grabbed her favorite novel, Nevertheless, and smiled. The details, the storyline, the love, intrigued Sarah and made her imagine. Imagine what her life would have been like in another dimension. Sarah dreamed of falling in love, but not an ordinary type of love. She wanted the full romance story, with a dreamy man whisking her away into the starry night sky. She craved someone that would hold her at night, and remind her how beautiful she was. Sarah also fantasized about moving to California, becoming an author, and having an adventurous life. But, Sarah was convinced that the dream was unfeasible, and believed she needed to remain realistic.
After Allison hung up the phone, she looked over at Sarah. Her eyes widened, and her bushy brows began to furrow. Allison hissed at Sarah, and lectured her on how she should have been helping around the house instead of re-reading the same novel for the thousandth time. She yelled and snatched Sarah’s book, while tugging on the pages. The pages were torn, which ultimately destroyed Sarah’s most honored possession. A tear started to form, but she wouldn’t let it fall. Crying in her front of her mother would make just make her angrier, and Sarah had no energy to stand up for herself. Instead, she put on her shoes, grabbed her rusty ripped book, and walked out of the door.
Alexandar, Allison’s boyfriend, stumbled out of his car as Sarah stomped down the slippery steps. He stopped her, and asked her how she had been. Her face began to feel hot as she clenched her fists, and she had the desire to sock him in the face. Instead, Sarah spoke no words, and continued to walk down the drenched cement road.
Because they had no tape at their house, Sarah decided to walk to the nearest convenience store. It was five miles away, at the very end of Cornstop Road. A flood of tears gushed down her ashen cheeks, which formed black lines under her eyes due to her cheap mascara. Her legs grew tired, and she could feel uncomfortable blisters forming on her toes. As she walked, she examined the area around her. There were no houses in sight, and the road was surrounded by enormous, thick redwood trees. Birds tweeted and drifted from tree to tree, as horses trotted in the surrounding fields.
After dragging her feet for two more miles, she had finally passed by a house. It was bright, stained with yellow wood. In front of the door, there was a mat that said “Welcome To Our Home,” with a smiley-face right below it. Two frivolous children sprinted out of the front door screaming, as they played a game of Tag. Their mother came out, wearing a red apron, and yelled to the kids that it was time for dinner. Sarah observed them, and she became envious of their lives. A happy and big family that talked and loved one another, feeling content in this small town they live in.
I mean, Sarah thought, what else would they need if they had each other? Nothing else would matter.
Sarah’s thoughts wandered to her mom, and she began to reminisce on the old memories they shared together. After her father left, they shut each other out and ignored one another. Then, a wave of guilt washed over Sarah. She suddenly realized that she never really talked to her mother about the absence of her father. Sarah had been so busy dreaming about getting out of Southern Ontario and leaving Allison and she was never there for her mom. It was a traumatic experience for both of them, and Allison lost the love of her life. Sarah looked back down at the torn pages in her book, the house in front of her, and pivoted her feet to the opposite direction. She knew what she had to do, and all she wanted to do was talk to her mom.
Explanation
Even though Lost and Runaway do not share much in common with their storylines, they have similar themes and writing styles. Much of Munro’s work exemplifies the literary genre known as Southern Ontario Gothic, which is a type of Gothic literature. Gothic literature is a genre that combines components of fiction, death, nature, individuality, romance, and the other elements. This type of writing style is used to describe social conditions such as gender roles and race. It is also aimed to create a stern realism set against small towns and the stereotypes inside them. Southern Ontario is very densely populated and isolated, so many of the stories used with this genre involves being confined in a small town. Southern Ontario Gothic greatly influenced how I decided to write my story. This led me to create a harsh relationship between a mother and her daughter. I placed my characters in Southern Ontario, and made the main character, Sarah, feel suffocated in her small town. Because Southern Ontario Gothic is also used to describe gender roles, I made the mother the head of the household.
In Runaway, Munro focuses on a married couple, Clara and Clark. Their fallout is shown in the story and how Clara still mourns over the destruction of their relationship. I thought that it would be interesting by creating this same dynamic with a mother and her daughter rather than a marriage. When describing Clara, Munro began showing her constantly reminiscing over their old memories together. She states, “In those days, their world had included several towns in the surrounding countryside, and they had sometimes behaved like tourists, sampling the specialties in grimy hotel bars. Pigs’ feet, sauerkraut, potato pancakes, beer. They would sing all the way home like crazy hillbillies.” (102). Similarly, I wanted Sarah to reminisce over the memories she had with her mother before they became distant from each other. It states, “Sarah and Allison never laughed, smiled, and loved as much as they did with her father present. Now, the house always creaked of silence and despair. Sarah sighed, wanting to go back.” Both of the characters wish they could have the same relationships with their loved ones like they used to.
In both Runaway and Lost, the characters relationships are what drive them to leave their homes. After continuously being mentally abused by her husband, Clara is encouraged by her neighbor Sylvia to run away from her home. In my story, I made Sarah leave on smaller circumstances by leaving her house, not necessarily “running away.” Eventually, they both ultimately decided to return to their homes on their own. In Runaway, Clara realizes that she couldn’t find a purpose in her life without Clark in it. Munro states, “While she was running away from him—now—Clark still kept his place in her life. But when she was finished running away when she just went on, what would she put in his place? What else—who else—could ever be so vivid a challenge?” (154). In Lost, Sarah gets a change of perspective after she stumbles upon a house filled with a close-knit family. It states, “ It was a traumatic experience for both of them, and Allison lost the love of her life. Sarah looked back down at the torn pages in her book, the house in front of her, and pivoted her feet to the opposite direction. She knew what she had to do, and all she wanted to do was talk to her mom.” Sarah finally realized that instead of communicating with her mom, she constantly made her feel guilty and put the blame on her. Seeing that house ultimately made her go back home to be with her mother.
Munro also writes in a very expressive and simple way that makes it very understandable for the reader. She includes many sensory details to bring the themes of the novel alive. She describes each setting and character very vividly to illustrate an image for the reader. She wrote in third-person, and made the writing in past-tense. I believe this enabled her to have a broader perspective of the characters lives because this narration allows her to be removed from the interpersonal conflict of the characters. This also allowed Munro to describe the setting and locations surrounding the characters more effectively. This influenced me to write my story in past-tense and third-person, and I believe it gave me the ability to also tell the story more effectively.
Illustrations
Geometric Light Cover
One project that we worked in Digital Media during this unit is our Geometric Light Cover. I created my own design on Adobe Illustrator, and then I printed the design out.
Editing in Illustrator:
Illustrator Design:
Final Design:
Celestial
For my Geometric Light Cover, I wanted to make it look stylistic but simple. I chose two colors that complemented each other, purple and silver. I thought that these colors would look really nice together, especially when a light was put into it. Then, I put in different shapes that I thought would fit well once put all together. The message I wanted to convey is that even though the cover may have simple shapes and designs, it could still look really unique and beautiful along with certain color choices.
Creating the Geometric Light Cover taught me a lot of skills that I deeply value. Before this project, I wasn’t really familiar with Illustrator. It was really confusing for me because there were so many different ways to produce the thing you wanted to create! However, watching the videos and creating it on the program made me more familiar and comfortable with it. I learned how to create different shapes and how to clean up the design so they were all identical with one another. This will definitely help me in the future with the next projects we do, because I will then be able to individually create something without needing guidance. It was also hard for me in the beginning because the project allowed me to have so much freedom with the shape I wanted to create. I had so many ideas and I wasn’t sure where to start, but then I just began to put on different shapes and see how it fit along with it. After I finished, I realized how cool it was that I had the ability to create whatever I wanted once I knew how to work the different programs we were provided with.
T-Shirt Design:
Editing in Illustrator:
Final Illustrator Design:
Final Product:
For my Illustrator Project, I decided to create a design that I would later put onto a shirt. I wanted to create an abstract design that had a calming feeling to it that also looked interesting. I looked up some sunset designs for inspiration, and began designing. I created an image of a sun setting over a mountain and forest. I have always loved designs that were simple yet beautiful which is what I wanted to create. To make it more abstract, I made the hills in front of the sunset different colors, and I added a small river at the bottom. I wanted the person that looked at this design to feel calm and relaxed, like they were looking into a real sunset. I used different pale colors and gradients to convey this feeling.
I learned and value so many things from this project! Before this, I wasn’t very skilled and experienced with Illustrator and it still remained confusing and complex to me. However, I was able to create different shapes and use different colors to put the idea I had in my mind onto an actual art board. I also struggled in the beginning of this project because we could create anything, and there was a lot of room for my own creativity. Because the subject was so broad, I became frustrated and kept changing my ideas constantly and moving to different ones. However, in the end I kept trying new designs and I finally ended up with what I wanted. This taught me that I have to keep experimenting and that I won’t immediately produce the design I wished for. All it takes is time and creativity!
Film
During this unit, we learned different methods of storytelling and new techniques to create a solid story line. We practiced different types of scenes and then ended up creating our own narratives.
Griffith’s Pattern:
In our group, we created a scene that demonstrated Griffith’s Pattern. We started with an establishing shot, and further followed the pattern.
Chase Scenes:
We created chase scenes to practice an actor running and a film while changing camera directions. We also did this by practicing the 180 degree rule.
Narrative Film Synopsis:
We start the scene with an establishing shot of the DMV as our main character, Jeff, drives into the parking lot of the DMV and pulls up to wait for his appointment. Jeff in his car anxiously, fidgeting with his hands. Joe, the driving examiner, walks out of the DMV door and stands next to the drivers seat. He knocks on Jeff’s window, indicating that he is ready to start the test. Jeff gives Joe the paper that he received for the test, and this will be significant later on. Jeff rolls down the window, smiles nervously. There is a shot of Joe motioning Jeff what to do (hand signs, headlights, etc). Jeff does the hands signs wrong. There is then a close up of Joe, pressing his chest aggressively. Then, he gets in the passenger’s seat. As Joe is going around the car, there is a shot of Jeff putting his hands in his face, obviously freaking out. Joe is wearing a button up shirt with a tie and khakis, also wearing glasses. He looks very professional and uptight. Joe rubs his jaw in discomfort and rubs sweat off his face, looking pale and sick. He signals for Jeff to start driving. Jeff accidentally leaves his car in reverse and presses on the gas pedal. The car violently jolts backwards and he slams on the brakes. Joe looks terrified, and angrily writes on the testing paper. Jeff mutters under his breath, scared for his life. Joe motions for him to proceed FORWARD. They leave the DMV, and forgets to stop at the stop sign. A pedestrian is walking on the crosswalk, and almost gets hit. The pedestrian raises his hands in fury, and Jeff looks over at Joe and nervously smiles and shrugs. Joe writes angrily on his paper again. They turn right, and start driving down the road, passing a hospital. Jeff notices, but doesn’t make anything out of it. A ball is thrown into the street, and Jeff swerves crazily. Joe is sprawled in the car, holding everything close to him, fearful for his life. Jeff looks back at Joe apologetically, and Joe marks on his paper again and shakes his head. Jeff keeps driving. There is a close-up of Joe, sweating profusely and rubs his chest more. Jeff notices, but keeps driving. All of a sudden Joe slams on his chest, having a heart attack.
He starts gasping for air, unable to breathe. He holds on his chest, and signals to Jeff that he can’t breathe. There is a close-up on jeff’s face, in panic, not knowing what to do. He doesn’t want to let Joe die, and he makes his decision. He is now determined to rush Joe over to the hospital. Jeff’s driving skills might make this impossible, but he was willing to try. He suddenly remembers the hospital that they passed earlier, and slams on the gas pedal. There is a wide shot of Joe struggling in the passenger seat, and Jeff is driving way over the speed limit. They arrive at the hospital, and they pull up to the Emergency Room. The nurse on call runs outside and notices the heart attack occurring. Jeff runs out, pleading for help. They grab the wheelchair and wheel him inside. Time passes, and Jeff is waiting anxiously in the waiting room. The nurse wheels Joe in and Jeff stands up quickly. Joe is okay, and Jeff shakes his hand. You can see that Joe is thankful towards Jeff for saving his life. Joe notices that Jeff is holding the driving test paper (FROM EARLIER) and motions to Jeff to give it to him. Joe writes on it, still in the wheelchair, and his hands are shaking. He gives it back to Jeff (SAME BUT DIFFERENT), and it says passed on it. Jeff looks very confused due to his inability to drive, but thanks him anyway.