Hi folks-
Answer the prompt:
Imagery is an incredibly important element in literature. Which image from your "Questions" piece is the most memorable? Can you visualize it? Tell me about it using sensory details (sight, touch, sound, taste) and build upon your original image.
For example:
My original image was "eating dinner with my family".
The improved image is "all of us sitting around the heavy oak table like hungry birds on a wire. The voices of all in the family blended into a dull roar and I was unable to distinguish one Southern accent from another. Holli rounds the corner, a ruffled apron tied around her waist, carrying a steaming pot. The newsprint on the table was smooth to the touch and grew wet when she poured the Frogmore onto the table. Bright yellow sweet corn, red potatoes and blood-red crawfish filled the table from one end to the other and everyone grew quiet, their mouths filled with the bayou treat."
Choose any image from your "Questions" piece and flesh it out into something more! Plan to spend about 15 minutes on this exercise. I want to be able to hear it, feel it, see it and taste it when you're done describing your image to me.
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I remeber when my dad had tried to come and be in my life and he had came to my grandparents house and he had sat in the back yard with me and we talked for hours. he sadi that he would like to be in my life again and he said i won't leave you again, and i believe him. We sat by our pool and he sat in a white chair and i sat in my little red chair, and for most of those hours we talked about how my life would be with him in my life, I asked him "Dad you walked out of my life once i don't want it to happen again", he said back to me "your grandfather made me sware not to again. He said that if I did it again that I would never see you again, and after he said that i believed him and now, we sit at his house and talk about how life is , and am i passing school, just normal stuff that dads and sons do. I still need to ask him why he walked out of my life but i'm going to do that in ten or fifteen years from now.
ReplyDeleteThere was a young navy man that was in the veitnom war and he was not really scared of anything but the fact that there was snakes in the water and he was tarified of snanks. And this man name is Michael Lyons and he is my grandpa. My grandpa told me that when he was in the war he was scared that his ship was going to sink and he was going to get attacked by the snakes in the water. And he told me that his ship would sit of the coast of vetinam and shoot stuff at the land. but in the navy my grandpa was an engineer. so he made sure that the ship was working fine. there was a fire in the engine room so him and many other men had to put the fire. my grandpa said that that was the scaresist moment in his life
ReplyDeleteIm going to change the part of my story about when we were moving. So we had just got all of things into the packed car. We finally got the over weight car to a steady pace like a train going full speed unable to stop. We drove and drove thinking it was never gonna end. When finally the car started coming to a slow stop the weight keeping the car from slowing to fast. When we arrived at town it was nothing like we had pictured, the buildings were old and beat up. Nothing real exciting or anything to do but unpack. But to this day we make that same trip many times and it never seems as long as the first time around.
ReplyDelete*Kopen*
The image i find most memoraable from my essay is the image of The day my nephew Miles was almost killed by man named Chris. This is the paragrah from my essay
ReplyDelete"You here a click and the next image to come up is one of a preteen girl with the same tawny hair, flying behind her as she runs towards a glass door marked in stark white letters Emergency Entrance. There is a man and a woman hot on her heels. In a split second the image is different and you see a baby boy on a bed surrounded by a dozen people, there are tubes erupting from his mouth as the pump water from his lungs. He is not supposed to be here and his is supposed to be inches from death. And it was all because he is different, all because his face was not like everyone else. He has a cleft palate. And a man tried to take his life because of it"
This sticks out in my mind because i almost lost a precious little biy that day and I will remeber it the rest of my life.
I am going to change "I got hit and when I stood up the nedof my finger was broken and I had no fingernail."
ReplyDeleteAs i broke from the huddle i turned with a smile on my face to see that the offence was already up at the line. A ball of sweat rolled down my face into my eye. I whiped my face and shoved my blue slobbery mouth piece in and gritted my teeth. The ball was coming right to me and i took off in a sprint to meet the ball carrier as soon as i could. When i did the crash was huge, the sound of the helmets hitting each other coul hrough town. Clinching Bret Stone with all of my might i fell to the ground with pride. two other kids had hit him at the same time and i was on the bottem of the pile. I could feel all the weight of the three guys and their pads laying on me, cutting me short of breath. One by one they started to climb off of me and i started to feel a slight pain in my lift pinki finger. I rolled over and stood up and glanced down at my finger, it was red. As i took a few steps to get out of the way i lifted my arm up to examin my hand. My finger nail was completely gone and it was throbbing badly. amazed i walked over to my coach and blankely told him i had no fingernaill. He told me to go clean it up so i took off, didn't even think abut the fact that my finger could be broken.
My image is my Grandma Lammert's funeral.
ReplyDeleteMy image... "I walked in feeling alone until I started watching my grandmas teary eyed friends and family coming in with tissues in their hands going through what Im going through, understanding what they are walking into. Giving hugs and recieving hugs, I was shedding tears and catching some before they fell. I started to hear the sniffles past the pastor's dull voice. As all the red and yellow flowers got faint the image of my grandmother and I began to fill it in. When the funeral was over I remember hearing the sympathy in everyones voice realizing I wasn't alone."
Shelby Lammert