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“No!!”

Jin shot up in her bed, screaming into the darkness. Once silence overcame the room again, she brought her fist down on her pillow, clenching her teeth. Every night was the same: she woke up screaming, sweat trickled down her forehead, she felt sick to her stomach, and she trembled in fear.

She buried her head in her hands, silently sobbing. ‘The same dream.’ she thought. ‘The same damn dream!’

Out of all the dreams she had for the past weeks, this was the worst. Everything was just so vivid, clear as day. There was maniacal laughter, the glint of a knife, a splash of red, screams, and the unmistakable sound of metal piercing skin again, and again, and again. It was all over in a flash, but it still chilled her to the bone.

            Still groggy, she walked into her bathroom. Tiny motion sensors installed in the doorway activated, filling the room with a warm, yellow light. She was never very tech-savvy, even when technology reached a new high with hover cars, robots, and microchips, but she was extremely grateful for these motion sensors. As twitchy as she’s gotten over the past few weeks, she had trouble handling simple things like a lightswitch.

She looked at her mirror, studying her reflection. She was a mess. Crust was built up in her sunken eyes. Her skin, instead of its usual tan, was a sickly pale. Her black hair was unforgivably frizzy, resembling a giant hairball on her head. Great. She felt sick, and she looked even worse, and how couldn’t she? These days, she was lucky to get three straight hours of sleep before the nightmares came back. They would be the death of her. It was clear: she needed help, and needed it soon.

----

Once morning came around, the nightmare still lingering in her mind, Jin stumbled into her living room. When she did, a robotic voice echoed from her personal P.A system.

“Good morning, Ms. Walker.” it greeted in a robotic, female voice. The blinds slid open, allowing stingingly bright light to pour into the room. Jin shielded her eyes from the offending light, groaning in protest.

“Power off!” she growled. The blinds closed back shut immediately, leaving Jin in her shady home. She let out a reluctant sigh. She didn’t want to use that ‘revolutionary helmet’ that got everyone all giddy, not with the way it worked. Apparently, through some technobabble nonsense, it allowed you to enter your nightmare, sort of like ‘living’ in it. That way, you could find the source of your nightmares, confront it, and overcome it. Why anyone would want to meet their nightmare in person, Jin didn’t know. There were even complaints about physical pains experienced in the dream world being carried over to the real world, though those people didn’t seem to mind too much. Then again, those people probably didn’t have nightmares involving death.

On the other hand, Jin wasn’t going to blow five-thousand credits so some jerk in a nice suit would waste three hours of her time just to tell her to ‘take it easy’. It looked like she didn't have much choice. After all, desperate times.

After retrieving the helmet from her closet, Jin sat down on her living room floor. As much as she didn’t like it, she had to admit, the design was appealing. It was round and sleek in design. Its chrome finish seemed to shine even in the shade of her house. At first glance, it seemed to be a very nice-looking hovercycle helmet, with a visor, padding inside, and a chinstrap. The only real difference was a controller connected to the helmet’s side.

Jin picked up the controller. It was small, rectangular, and black. It had only a switch and a dial, so it seemed simple enough. There was the ‘On’ and ‘Off’ switch, and the dial seemed to be for setting the time.

“Okay. Let’s give it a try.” Jin said, though doubt lingered in her mind. Was this thing really going to help end all of this? Could it? Only one way to find out.

“Now, let’s see…” She picked up the helmet and placed it on her head. The next thing she grabbed was the controller, focusing on the time dial. “Let’s go for a…thirty minute test-run.” She turned the dial until it was pointing at the 30-minute mark. All she had to do now was turn the power on.

“This had better work.” With a deep breath, she slowly flicked the switch to ‘On’.

Immediately, a tingling sensation wrap around her head as the machine hummed to life. The feeling persisted for nearly ten seconds until Jin felt a sudden drowsiness overcome her. Her body became weak, her eyes became near impossible to keep open, and soon enough, she fell back on the floor, eyes shut as she drifted into sleep.

----

            Jin’s eyes snapped open as she shot up from her place on the ground. Her vision was blurry and her head was aching. Did it work? Was she dreaming? Once her vision came back, a quick look around gave her an answer. She was no longer within the confines of her home; she was sitting on the cold, hard driveway of an average, two-story house. As plain as it was, Jin recognized it. It was the home where she grew up. Strangely enough, she couldn’t remember much of her childhood. The only real significant things she could remember were that her mother was ill, and her father, a doctor, was trying to find a cure that always eluded him. Everything else was a blur. But what was she doing here in the first place? What was so important about it?

            Jin was so caught up in thought that she nearly failed to notice something else. Looking around, she found herself surrounded by an impenetrable shroud of fog. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t see a thing, save for the house, as if she was being directed towards it. Not only that, but Jin couldn't hear a thing either. Nothing, not the chirping of birds, or even gusts of wind, like they didn't even exist. The place was just silent, eerily so.

            Jin tried to shake off the worry, telling herself that it was all just a dream. A nightmare, yes, but still a dream. She got up to her feet, looking up at the house.

She heaved a heavy sigh, trying to dispel the hesitation built up inside. "Okay, let's do this."

            She approached the front door. Aside from the surrounding fog, it seemed safe enough. However, when she tried to open it, she found that it was lock. Of course it was.

            “Couldn’t be that easy, could it?” Jin muttered, chuckling to herself.

            “What have you done?”

            With a shocked gasp, Jin whipped around, darting her head side to side, trying to find the source of the whisper. There was nothing around her, no one in sight. Jin knew that it was a man’s voice, a strangely familiar one at that. Even stranger, Jin could’ve sworn that it was right behind her. She couldn’t be that paranoid already, could she?

Jin turned back around, calming her racing heart only to have it speed up again once she saw that the initially locked front door was open. Well, not open, gone, hinges and everything, like it was never even built in. The new entrance lead into darkness, one that Jin would have to brave if she wanted to find the answers for her nightmares.

“It’s only a dream. It’s only a dream. It’s only a dream.” Jin kept saying, which didn’t help much. With her breath held, she crept into her childhood home, unaware and unprepared for the answers she would find.

As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, Jin could see that she was in the living room. It was rather cozy, if not antique in design. Instead of the fancy holograms and streamlined furnishings she’s grown used to, the decorations seemed to have come from the 21^st century. A nice, red couch sat in front of a fireplace. If Jin wasn’t scared out of her mind, she may have taken a rest.

Jin observed an end table next to the couch, spotting a framed photograph. Picking it up, she saw that it was a photo of her parents before her mother’s illness. It seemed to be a vacation photo, because they were both at the beach, wearing swimsuits. However, Jin noticed that a piece of the photo was missing, torn out. Jin turned the photo over, looking at its back. Despite the darkness, Jin was able to make out ‘Florida ’59’ written in black felt-tip pen.

“2259?” Jin mumbled to herself. “I was five back then.” Then where was she in the photo? For some reason, her place in the picture was torn out, but by who?

She didn’t have much time to think of an answer before she heard something that nearly made her heart stop. In the dead silence, Jin could hear slow, heavy footsteps. They were faint at first, but slowly grew louder, and louder, and louder. Someone, something was approaching her, each step growing louder as they pounded in her mind. Jin flipped into a silent panic; her body was stiff, but her mind was racing a mile a minute. What was she going to do? Could she run? Would it catch her? Where would she go? All the while, those footsteps were getting louder, getting closer, until...they stopped. They stopped behind her. Jin froze up; she didn’t move, didn’t even breath. It took all she had not to shriek as she felt cold, musty breath brush against the back of her neck. She could feel it staring down at her with its cold, dead eyes. This was unbearable! Why wouldn’t it just leave?

Then, for reasons Jin couldn’t describe, maybe stupidity, she found herself slowly turning around, keeping her eyes shut as she did. Only when she was certain that she was facing her stalker did she muster up the courage to open her eyes. She expected to see a ghost, a demon, a man slapping a goat, anything but what she did find: nothing. Again. Even after the fear passed and her heart calmed down, she was still left speechless, confused, and above all, angry. Really angry. Angry that this place was teasing her, toying with her emotions like it was all some sick joke. There was no way in this nightmarish hell that there was nothing the whole time!

Jin clenched her fists, trying and failing to contain the anger bottling up inside. Just when she was about to explode, a door next to her swung open, slamming into the plaster wall. In an instant, all of Jin’s rage left her in a very shocked, not-angry yelp. Once she got a hold of herself, she stared into the darkness of the room beyond. Somehow, it was even darker than the living room, but Jin could hear something coming from it. Whispering? Yeah, it was whispering. Jin couldn’t make it out, but it sounded like something was calling her. That was when it hit her. This place, this dream, was leaving signs and signals for her to follow. They were leading her somewhere, but to what? Jin just had to decide whether or not she wanted to find out.

She didn’t have much time to come to a decision. A sudden sense of drowsiness came over her, making her brain numb. Her legs became jelly, her eyes became heavy, and her whole body in general just grew weak. It didn’t take very long before Jin collapsed, unconscious before she even hit the ground.

Her thirty minutes were up.

Introduction:

Ask: ¡Hola! Mucho gusto.

Me: ¡Hola! Igualmente.

Ask: ¿Como se llama?

Me: Mi nombre es Bartolo Rinaldi. Yo tengo treinta y cinco años. Soy de Filadelfia pero vivo en San Francisco, CA.

Ask: ¿Dónde asististé a universidad?

Me: Para universidad, yo asistí a Baruch College en New York. Yo matriculé por la maestria. Yo me gradué en el año dos mil.

Ask: ¿Dónde trabajaste?

Me: Yo trabajé para Filadelfia Metro como periodista de los años dos mil uno hasta el año dos mil tres. Yo trabajé para New York Times como escritor de los años dos mil tres hasta el año dos mil cuatro. Yo trabajé para IGN Entertainment como el diseñador del sito de internet de los años dos mil cuatro hasta el año dos mil seis. Recientemente, yo trabajé Gamepro como la periodista de los años dos mil seis hasta el año dos mil diez.

 

Questions:

Ask: ¿Que te especializaste en la universidad? (What did you major in college?)

Me: En universidad, yo especializarse en periodismo y escritura.

Ask: ¿Cuanto tiempo tiene interesada en escritura? (How long have you been interested in writing?)

Me: Desde yo en escuela. Yo supe me encanta escritura.

Ask: ¿Tiene usted experiencia en entrevista? (Do you have experience in interviewing?)

Me: Si, yo entrevista muchos personas por mi trabajo en IGN Entertainment y GamePro.

Ask: ¿Una palabra que mejor te describe? (What one word best describes you?)

Me: Una palabra que mejor describe mi es: Dedicado.

Ask: ¿Por qué tu eliges nuestra compania? (Why did you choose our company?)

Me: Yo queré trabajo aquí desde yo pequeña. Tu compania es muy diferente.

Ask: ¿Que puede aportar a nuestra compania? (What can you contribute to our company?)

Me: Yo voy a aportar mis habilidades de escritura y el periodismo. Yo voy a aportar mi habilidad de diseño también para tu sitio de internet. Mi habilidad en entrevista va a ayudo por la trabajo.

Ask: ¿Que tu penses nuestra magazine? (What do you think of our magazine)

Me: ¡Me encanta tu magazine! Leí todos los magazine. Yo obteno mi inspiracíon de magazine.

End: 

Ask: ¡Bueno!

Me: ¡Gracias, mucho gusto!

Ask: Igualmente. ¡Adios!

Video:

"How is he, Dr. is he ready?"

"Yes, the chip has just been activated. Everything is in place and working Sir."

"Marvelous, now I just need to take him to the Commander. (Snaps twice) Guards please escort Alex to Commander Mitchell's Space Room. "

Something was different about me. My hair was fine. There was nothing in my teeth. There were no wrinkles in my clothes. I couldn't quite put finger on it but I know something was up. Where am I even at? I had never seen this place ever in my life. The room's walls were covered in outer space wallpaper. The floor carpet was jet black. The weirdest thing in the room was the desk that was shaped and painted yellow like the sun. Whoever room this was must have an extreme obsession with space. Walked in was a tall slim male saying, "I am not obsessed, I just think outer space cool." How did he hear me? I didn't say it out loud. Can he read minds? If so, that is incredibly cool. He laughed saying, "No I do not read minds that would be cool though if I actually could. But let's focus, I will explain everything in a moment. Do you know who I am, Alex?

“No, but should I?”

“I am Commander Mitchell of the Human Fleet Assembly. The reason you are here is because we need your help with destroying the Martians for good. The reason we chose you is because you’re different. You may not know this but you were developed in a lab. Dr. Sylvia, your creator, actually used you to test her new instantaneous thinking chip. You were the only survivor that is why you are so valuable. You are the weapon to defeating the Martians.”

Wow, so that explains how he heard what I was thinking and replied so fast. I not sure on how I feel about everyone relying on me to defeat the Martians. I am just a kid. That is a big responsibility. Wait, if I am capable of thinking instantaneously then Commander Mitchell just heard everything. Way to go Alex. “Sorry, Commander this is all new to me.”

“Alex don’t beat yourself up about it. I understand this a lot to take in. As you said your just a kid, and I making it my mission to get you fully prepared for the Martians. So don’t worry. Just remember what you think the whole planet will know, so watch what you say buddy!” he said with a funny giggle.

Commander Mitchell was serious when he said he wont stop until I was fully prepared to fight. We have been training together for six weeks now. I learned so much since then. He taught me everything from mathematics to army techniques and even literature. We played the game Battleship everyday also. I never quite understood why. He simply answered saying “it will come in handy some day, you’ll see.”

Although I felt mentally powerful, I felt the physical features were not present as much. So it was to the gym I went. After 3 weeks of non-stop exercising I became extremely fit and muscular. Now I was definitely mentally and physically strong and ready to fight. I just needed the thumbs up from the Commander.

“Now Alex if you pass this test, with out a doubt you would have proved to me that you’re ready.” Rumor has it that no one has even been close to passing Commander Mitchell’s special test. I also heard that this is the hardest test known to man. Hearing those rumors did not scare me at all. My confidence was high as ever. I was ready.

After the long seven-hour test, I was thrilled to hear that I pass the test with flying colors. I soon became Commander Mitchell’s prodigy. I was given the title Chief Adam Za. I was also the youngest member added to the Human Fleet Assembly.

There was still unfinished business with the Martians. The fight was still on and serious as ever. They invaded our land and killed many and we did exactly the same to them. It was uncertain to say the winner just yet of the battles. We were similar in so many ways it was hard to understand why we hate each other so much. The last fight was the “Battle of the Seas”, whoever won the fight was in control of everyone and everything. This meant the opposing opponent would have to surrender.

The Martians were absolutely ruthless. They threw cannon after cannon at our naval ships. The smallest boat of ours was hit, killing 1,000. That was it. I was fed up and needed a plan as soon as possible. That’s when it hit me, Battleship! I can use my skills to find the exact latitude and longitude of the Martians ships and eliminated them.  

“G9 Go! Shoot it!” I screamed to the men regulating the ammunition.  A minute later, on of the Martian ship blew up into a million pieces. Commander Mitchell was right about the game battleship being useful. With the biggest grin on my face I began shouting out all the coordinates of their ships. “B7, A1, E3, C2, D4 & F6 Let’s go, fire them up!” After the last missile was launched, each Martian ship was taken down. Every one on the boat screamed with joy. We did it. We won. We defeated the Martians.

Once we sailed back to land we quickly celebrated our victory. Commander Mitchell patted me on the back and said, “Great work Alex. I told you could do it. I am also glad I got to watch you do it. You turned from a fifteen year old kid to a young warrior. I am so proud of you!”

 I was extremely proud of myself also. I was the fifteen year old that was the brains of an operation that defeated the powerful Martians. This was an experience I’ll never forget.

"Don’t let your age prevent your from doing something amazing." – The Great Alex Za 

Me llamo Dylan Long, y soy un estudiante del primer año en SLA. Yo vivo en un barrio fantástico. Se llama “Bella Vista”, que significa “Vista hermosa” en Italiano. Bella Vista esta ubicádo en el Sur de Filadelfia. Uno de los murales más famosos de mi comunidad está en el centro del Mercado Italiano. El mural es una autorretrato del ex-alcalde de Filadelfia, Frank Rizzo. Mi comunidád no solo tenemos murales en el Mercado Italiano. Tenemos un festivál anuál, “el Festival del Mercado Italiano”. Hay apenas crimen y delito en mi comunidad, y eso significa que no hay casi ninguna marca en la mayoría de los murales. Sería peor para los murales si teníamos mas delitos en el comunidad.

Mi murál representa el tema de siguiendo tus sueños, y que nunca deberías para de intentar a lograr esos sueños. Soy de acuerdo con esa mensaje. Para mí, hacer eso es tocar mis instrumentos consistentemente (los tambores, bass, y guitarra). El propósito de tocar musica es cuando yo no puedo expresar mis emociones, puedo expresarles con la musica. Hacer eso es ser enamorado con tocar mis instrumentos, y ser feliz y energetico cuando soy tocando en conciertos. Para mí, mis instrumentos tienen una significancia enórme en mi vida. Yo usé colores diferentes, porque un solo colór puede ser muy aburrido. Usé letras de tamaños, diseñosm y colores diferentes, porque como lo veo yo, si todo es lo mismo, no es muy interesante. La tema de mi murál es usar ejemplos de mi interés y vida con musica para mandar una mensáje a otros. Esta mensaje es que sí, va a ser deficil, pero si tu sigues tus sueños, vas a tener una vida muy feliz. Yo escogé el ubicación del mural porque es solo unos metros de mi casa, y es un pared desnudo.

El papel del arte público es para personas que quieren expresarse con arte, pero quieren que todos vean su arte. Pienso que los leyes que estan en su lugar ahora son buenos, útiles, y deben quedar como son. Como yo lo entiendo, muralistas deberían solo poder pintar murales si tienen permiso. Si pintan un mural sin permiso, deben ser castigados. Pienso que voy a hacer un buen trabajo con hacer esto con mi mural. Mi mural es arte expresivo. tyEs imagenes y una mensaje, y esto puede ser considerado arte. Pienso que mi pedazo manda un mensaje muy bueno, y es muy artistica. Soy orgulloso de mi murál, y no podría pedir para nada mas.

Yo vivo en el barrio de Roxborough. Roxborough es un lugar muy seguro para mi, y yo no tengo miedo de ir afuera en la noche. No hay muchos delitos en Roxborough, y la graffiti y vandalismo  son poco común. Yo no he escuchado de un asesinato en Roxborough ni un vez en el tiempo que he vivido aqui. Además, el único peligro en Roxborough son jóvenes polémicos que enojan a otros. Mi mural esta ubicado en 203 Sumac St., en la pared de un casa. Yo creo que Roxborough es un lugar que no tiene suficiente arte. No era un movimiento de arte en Roxborough como El Movimiento Muralista, y por eso no hay nadie como los grandes muralistas de México, como Diego Rivera, David Siquieros, o Jose Clemente Orozco.

En mi mural yo incluyo tres de los cosas que yo creo son muy importante para las personas de Roxborough. El primer cosa que yo incluí en mi mural era un niño y su abuelo. Estas dos figuras representan la familia, y los seres queridos. Roxborough es un lugar muy residencial, con muchos casas, y pocos tiendas y edificios. Casi todos las personas de Roxborough tiene un familia en su casa, y todos apoyan a los otros.

El segundo cosa que yo incluí en mi mural eran varias cosas de comida. Yo creo que la comida es un gran parte de las vidas de los personas de Roxborough. En un lugar llamada “Main Street Manayunk”, hay muchos restaurantes donde los personas de Roxborough comen mucho. Todos las personas de Roxborough tienen al menos un poquito de apreciación para la comida buena, aunque las opiniones de que es “comida buena” diferencian mucho.

El tercer cosa que yo incluí en mi mural era dos jugadores de béisbol. Béisbol es un gran parte de la vida de la mayoría de las personas de Roxborough, casi todos han jugado en un equipo de béisbol en un parte de sus vidas, y muchos jueguen en uno de los campos de béisbol en Roxborough sin ser parte de un equipo. Sin embargo, béisbol no es el único deporte que esta jugado en Roxborough, también hay un gran numero de personas que jueguen Fútbol Americano. Las deportes en general son muy importante para Roxborough, pero béisbol el lo mas importante de todos.

Ahora, Roxborough es un lugar muy tranquilo, con un bosque, y un río; sin embargo, si vas cien o dos cien años en el pasado, Roxborough era un lugar con mucho industria. Eran muchos factorías aquí, y todos los casas estaban ocupada por las trabajadores de las factorías. Si caminas a diferentes lugares, puedes encontrar diferentes edificios destruidos que eran factorías antes.

Mi nombre es Brianna Perrin y la pieza que me decidí a crear fue "Puertas a la Paz" por Joe Brenman, ubicado en 1501 Calle Germantown. . Yo vivo en el suroeste de Filadelfia, que es considerado el "ghetto". Mi comunidad no tiene mucha historia que era importante o significativa a nadie fuera de mi barrio. La mayoría de las personas en nuestra comunidad son ancianos o niños pequeños. No hay una gran cantidad de personas de mediana edad. Mi comunidad nunca es tranquilo y que no siempre es una buena cosa. En los parques que tienen un montón de fiestas o eventos sociales. A veces, los acontecimientos pueden terminar duradera durante toda la noche sobre todo con la música a todo volumen. Puede haber momentos en los que no se llevan bien, pero en general estamos ahí el uno al otro, especialmente durante los malos tiempos.

Para mi mural que recrea "Puertas a la Paz" por Joe Brenman. El diseño en mi mural es que la palabra paz se escribe hacia abajo y cada letra representa una palabra. Así que en general cada letra representa una palabra y cada vez que dicen que la palabra paz que en realidad significa lo que cada letra se presenta. La razón por la que eligieron las flores para el fondo es porque las flores son la naturaleza y el color de cada uno de una flor significa cosas diferentes. Morado es sinónimo de encanto. Cuando yo era decorar y pegar palabras, yo no tenía un patrón determinado color, o una fuente que tenía la intención de usar. Las cartas fueron al azar. Pero yo quería que las palabras fluyan juntos. Paz significa "la paz y la educación abre el éxito de la Comunidad". Sine este mural se está creando en la comunidad un poco mal, pensé que tenía que significar algo importante. Tener la paz y la educación en una comunidad puede ayudar a abrir más la participación, el amor y cuidado por los demás.

En mi opinión, el papel del arte público es mostrar a la comunidad que a pesar de que es posible vivir en una comunidad mal, la gente de que todavía pueden unirse para crear algo hermoso. Mi obra es arte porque es demostrando buenas intenciones y el mural tiene un mensaje detrás de ella. Mi opinión de mi pieza es que me gusta la forma en que tomó el mural original y lo convirtió en el mío, sin cambiar mucho. En el mural original se puede ver sólo una puerta y la palabra paz en diferentes idiomas. Circundante que es diferentes símbolos que representan la paz. En mi arte, me hizo lo mismo pero más colores y traté de hacerlo más moderno.

Me llamo es Teodoro Bartolomeo

El nombre de mi mural es El Bosque. Aunque el mural es sencillo, yo creo que un bosque puede represente muchas cosas en la vida. El mural está ubicado en 47th y Warrington 19143 en Filadelfia, PA. El barrio es muy diverso porque muchos gente están estudiantes. Benny Lai de el restaurante de Vietnam dice que él vivido en la Ciudad de Universidad desde el año 1979. Él es un inmigrante. La mayoría de mi barrio es joven pero muy diverso. La historia de mi mural es también sencilla, pero el simbolismo es conmovedor. Pienso que bosques es similar a una comunidad porque todos tienen crecimiento. El crecimiento puede ser bueno, pero el crecimiento puede ser mal y deprimida a la comunidad. Filadelfia luchas con violencia, drogas, y se puede vista como un malo ciudad. Pero, muchas cosas hacen la ciudad magnífico. Creo que el arte público es muy importante a las comunidades porque las imágenes reflejan la gente de muchos barrios. El arte es diverso, y no es especial a uno grupo de personas. El crecimiento en una comunidad es las etapas a un mejor barrio. El bosque es mi representación de que creencia.

        El mural tiene un elemento que hace especial. Simbolismo es muy importante en el mural, porque sin simbolismo, las imágenes es solo árboles. Sin embargo, los árboles está muy magnífico. El papel de los árboles es mostrar crecimiento en un medio ambiente. El propósito de el mural es dar el observador un sentido de reflexión profundo. Los colores yo tengo están verde, un pequeño marrón, y blanco, pero, la mayoría está verde. Yo me gusta mis colores porque ellos representan lo que estoy tratando hacer. Verde es un color de vida, y crecimiento positiva. Porque la tema es sobre nuevo vida, yo creo que verde es un buen color. Sin embargo, el marrón es sobre el mal cosas. Las cosas mal están ocultos de el público, pero no necesariamente por las oficiales de la ciudad. La gente no les gustan los delitos y el vandalismo. Que es por qué los murales están importante. Son pintado por la gente de la comunidad de Filadelfia. ¿Quién pero la gente de Filadelfia haría a entender?

        El mensaje de mi pintura es sobre tranquilidad. Yo creo que arte público es sobre los opiniones de las personas de el área. Mi mural ubicado es cerca de un jardín de comunidad. Yo pienso que mi idea de crecimiento positiva y tranquilidad es sobre que filosofía. El propósito de arte público es a dar la gente un representación de visual de la vida. Mi mural es sobre la vida, y sobre comunidad. Como lo veo, el arte es por las personas, y no es ser oculto. El arte necesita a simbolizar las emociones y observaciones sobre las cosas en la vida. Yo creo que arte puede empoderar piensa creativa. Mi mural es arte porque la pieza represente mis opiniones, y es verdad a mi vida. Mi ubicación era importante también, porque yo quería a tener mi pintura con la ciudad. Mi muro es roto, y capeado, pero con los árboles el mural es muy interesante. El medio ambiente de el muro está difícil, pero el muro ubicada es en la jardín muy tranquilo, y que ayudan el mural a tener un mensaje. Yo estoy muy alegre a ser un muralista!

           

             

My name is Luis Andrew Clark. The decent into my pitiful life started when I was nine years old. Unbeknownst to me that was when my mother developed Tuberculosis. I remember her as a radiant, soft-spoken, and wickedly funny woman. When the other boys would pick on my because of my glasses or inhaler, she was always there to give me warm sugar cookie-smelling hugs. But the disease spread quickly and took her from me the month after my tenth birthday.

From then on it was my dad and I. He on the other hand was quiet, to him self, and had a stern look that could make a MMA fighter wet himself. With my dad you were better off not talking to him unless you were bleeding to death. Two years later my dad married again, to a woman named Demetra. She, like my dad, could be quite intimidating.

 

Piling on the fun, Demetra had a son named Richard. He was my age and had a sour face. As I grew in this dysfunctional family he became known as ‘Dick’ to my friend David and me. Believe me the name fit. Dick tortured and bullied me all through out middle school up until high school.

 

“What’s up Luis-And-Clark?” David popped into my room in the front of the second floor.

“Nothing much my werewolf compadré.” That was my friend David Lucian, hence the werewolf nickname. He was kind of short, and weird, but he was my best friend.

“So have you talked to Rora yet?” David elbowed me as I sat at my desk doing math homework.

“Nah, she wouldn’t want to talk to me.” I shrugged it off. Aurora Lynn was a popular girl in our school who I used to be friends with until her jock boyfriend and his boys threatened me.

 

“That’s right dork. She is way outta your league.” Queue the annoying and abusive stepbrother from hell. “But I totally wouldn’t mind hittin that fine piece of –“

“Don’t talk about her like that!” I yelled. She was the girl of my dreams, beautiful respectable and brilliant. Yet he talked about her as if she were one of the other girls. With in seconds of my outburst was a fist aimed at my lower stomach. As I doubled over from the blow I felt the mop of dark brown hair on my head being pulled upwards.

 

“Listen here Nerd-Turd, I’ll do what ever the hell I want, and you wont do a damn thing. Got it?” Vigorously I nodded my head as well as I could. “That’s what I thought douche bag.” As he walked out of my room David came and helped me up. I never looked at him for help since he was shorted than me, and just as scared of Richard.

 

“No . . . more.  David. No more. I can’t take this. Its time for a change.” As if fire was running through my veins I dashed to the door, locked it, and back to my computer. Fingers like lightening I typed the only way I knew how to beat Dick.  I was going to find something using the almighty Internet.

 

~One Month later~

How did it turn out like this? All I wanted was a normal life. One where I was cool, had fun, and could be with the girl of my dreams. I never should have gone to that website. I can still remember the words it said.

Youth, Strength, and Agility

Have all you’ve ever dreamed and more.

The elixir of the gods.

 

I never thought that when they meant youth, that I would stay 18 forever. That ‘special’ elixir they were selling was vampire blood, and it came with a price; Eternal Damnation.

 

A week after receiving and drinking the elixir, I started to change. My hair, once stringy and almost black, turned full and grew golden tints. My brown eyes, turned completely black, my naturally tan skin slightly paled. I didn’t know what was happening, but it felt good. I felt stronger, looked it too since I was no longer lanky but filling out my skin. There should have been a damn warning on the bottle.

-WARNING! Don’t drink this unless you never want to see the sun again. -

Yeah that would have been good since my first day as a vampire I ended up getting a huge burn on my arm from the light coming though my blinds.

 

I’m not proud of my choices in life. I never thought I would kill people, or scare the only girl I cared about.

A week after my change I went to a school party that was, thankfully, after sundown. The only one who knew about the ‘new me’ was David. He didn’t take it too bad. He was scared of me at first but soon realized that I was still the same person. So we went to the party, and I tried to keep a low profile. I didn’t buy into the idea of the animalistic cravings for blood, but I didn’t want too many people asking questions that I didn’t have answers too.

 

Then I saw something that made my, nonexistent, blood boil. Richard was holding Aurora in his arms, but she obviously didn’t want him to, since her arms where bracing herself, and pushing away. He gripped her butt, sucked her neck, and I was seeing red, specifically the veins in his neck and arms. I couldn’t help my self. I lunged, flying past people so fast that there was only a dark blur, and gripped him by the shirt. He was frightened at first since I had appeared from nowhere. Then after he realized it was just me a cocky smirk was on his face as if I posed no type of threat. He was painstakingly wrong.

 

I dug my hand into his neck as I walked to an empty room. He started to turn pink, then red, and almost purple from my vice grip. Now I’m going to spare the gruesome details, and just say he didn’t stay purple too long before there was crimson liquid covering the beige walls. I killed him out of fury never expecting that the love of my life was close behind me and saw the entire thing. I turned around when I heard the door knock into the wall. Aurora in all her golden hewed glory stood staring at me, but never running away. Out of shame I opened a near by window, jumped landing in a crouched position and ran for ever-lasting life.

 

I ran, ran away, ran to make distance, and ran for almost an eternity, simply to make a space between my past and me. I stopped only to land in Canada, in a forest, surrounded by trees. I found a cabin, which had been vacant for a long time, based on the lack of electric work and abundance in dust and cobwebs. This would be my home; I would feed off of animals, keep a low profile, and distance my self from the world.

Hopefully

Me llamo Edgar Pacio y me encanta el arte. Vivo en la comunidad de Lawncrest en el Noreste de Filadelfia. En mi comunidad hay poco arte. Hasta hay poco graffiti en las calles cerca de mi casa. Por esta razón he creado el mural titulado “Alcanza las Estrellas”. El mural estará ubicado en la Avenida Rising Sun en la pared de la biblioteca de Lawncrest. Mi comunidad es mas o menos tranquila y tiene una historia muy interesante. Para contar la historia de mi barrio, se puede ir asta los años mil seis cientos. Varias iglesias fueron construidas en la comunidad, una iglesia ha estado desde los años mil seiscientos. En los años mil novecientos la comunidad estaba poblado por los Alemanes. En estos años la comunidad empezó a construir mas servicios públicos. Una estación de bomberos fue construida en 1920. En otros cuarenta años la biblioteca publica fue construida por la escasez de libros en la comunidad. Ahora mi comunidad no es sólo de puro alemanes, ahora hay de todas culturas.

            Las imágenes de mi mural son unas manos que están tratando de alcanzar las estrellas. Las manos simbolizan las personas con sueños, y las estrellas son símbolos de esos sueños. Los colores que use son varios. Use un color azul medio oscuro para representar la noche. Las estrellas son varios y son un color en medio de blanco y amarillo. Mi mensaje es que los sueños son comos los estrellas, están de larga distancia pero ser pueden alcanzar con determinación. Las personas deben tratar de alcanzar sus metas y sus sueños. Como mi mural será pintado por la comunidad, vamos a necesitar pedir permiso de pintar en el pared de la biblioteca. Además muchas personas visitan la biblioteca y el parque que esta cerca. El mural será visto por la comunidad entera y los va hacer orgullosos de la arte y de si mismos.

            Para mi, la arte publica esta para expresar la comunidad. Expresa sus culturas, su historia, y su ayuda formar una identidad para la comunidad. Ayuda las personas de la comunidad a ser mas orgullosos de su barrio. El arte publico trae a las personas de la comunidad juntos para una ocasión importante para la comunidad entera. En mi opinión, mi mural si esta sirviendo su propósito. El propósito de mi mural es para ayudar a los personas de mi comunidades de nunca soltar sus sueños. Mi mural es un tipo de arte con un mensaje fuerte. En mi comunidad, ay algunos estudiantes que se van a otros lados en debes de ir a la escuela. Ellos están dejando sus sueños atrás, y mi mural los va apoyar en que se recuerden que los sueños pueden ser realidad. El mural costara mucho dinero, pero desde mi punto de vista el producto final vale la pena. 

I am wearing a tie.

 

The Experiment

 

 

            “Don’t leave until you finish your homework” Jessica’s mother yelled down the stairs, barely catching her daughter before she headed out the door. “It’s only Saturday and I’ll be home early” said Jessica dashing out before hearing her mothers reply. She knew she’d be in for it when she came home but this was more important. The ringing has been going on for nearly 15 minutes. Jessica knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

            As she raced down the empty Chicago streets, the winter air chilled her burning face. She always loves the cold; it’s Jessica’s security blanket. Jessica turned right, then left and soon vanished behind a vacant warehouse where the Doctor was waiting.

            “3 months already? Jeez next time I’ll have to make these last longer” the doctor says in a sarcastic tone. “Jut fix it I have places to be” Jessica said as she pushes past the doctor and into his slaughterhouse like office. As Jessica marches into the back looking for her room, she sees other children in the same position as her. Close to the end at any moment but not willing to let go. As Jessica lies on the icy, steel table she thinks of the day she became one of the experiments.

            It was January and her mother was behind in more than 4 months rent. Jessica knew the only reason she still had a home was because it was illegal to evict people in the winter, but winter fades. Jessica remembers the walk home from school when she met the doctor. That day she decided to take the back route it was faster than the main streets but dangerous. Jessica had a lot of homework so she went. She saw the vans with the tables and the ovens as they were moved into the warehouse. Then the doctor saw her and yelled, “Hey, do you wanna make some money?” Jessica said in a timid voice “ Sure.” The doctor walked her into the warehouse and told her to sit down. The doctor went over the logistics, the removal of the lungs, the heart, and the blood loss. He explained that they would be sold to people that need new organs or blood. He showed her the machine, the gears and wires that would soon fill her body. He told her she must keep it a secret because the machinery is not government regulated but, if it works, it could save many lives. He told her this would be the cure to cancer, HIV, and even natural death. Jessica just heard $5000 a month for life.

            As the doctor finished up her “tune up” as he describes it, Jessica asks him why she can’t know his identity. The doctor stops fiddling with the gears and says, “Your question is too dangerous to answer.” He then claims he is finished and walks out the room. Jessica leaves the warehouse knowing some thing is not right but not being sure what. Then the ringing begins again.

            Jessica falls to her knees; with not enought strength to stand she crawls back into the warehouse. She yells for the doctor, who arrives with a smile and says “another experiment gone wrong.” He yells down the hall “Hey Carmon, fire up the oven. This one is almost gone.”  

            “Jeez Jess I thought you’d be dead by now” the doctor says as he walks into her room. “Thanks for the support” Jessica replies as the doctor begins to change her IV, “When can I leave? It’s been 5 months.” The doctor insists that she will never leave. “Jessica, you still don’t get it? You have been here because you are broken. It’s only a matter of time before we toss you out. Like the others” says the doctor as he leaves the room.

            Jessica, stunned by the doctor’s harsh words, gets up from her bed, removes her IV, and walks out of her room. She hasn’t seen sunlight in months and wants to feel the sun’s rays once more before it’s over. As Jessica walks down the hall she sees the new experiments waiting for their turn and her stomach begins to turn. Jessica thinks to herself “this is unacceptable.” At that very moment Jessica knows what she needs to do.

            “I know you think I’m crazy but do an x-ray or something. I’m not insane.” Jessica explains to the police officer. “I find it hard to believe that some crazy doctor can actually turn people into machines without others noticing” says the police officer, “Listen write down the location and we’ll check it out.” Jessica is escorted out of the police station and told to go home. As Jessica begins her journey home her body begins to give out. She falls to her knees and her bones begin to dissolve. Where Jessica once stood, now lays a pile of gears and wires.

           

 

Vivo en “Center City” de Filadelfia. Cerca de mi casa, esta una mural. El mural es de una sombra de una iglesia. La iglesia no existe ahora, pero la mural es la memoria de cuando la iglesia existo. La mural es en las calles 22nd y Walnut, muy cerca de la gasolinera Sonoco. Cuando camines en la calle, puedes mirar las personas y perros en el calle.

Mi mural va a tener cosas divertidas y también cosas que representen que divertido son mis amigos. Mis amigos son las personas mas importantes del mundo. Va a tener videojuegos, fotografías de personas felices, y de perros y otras cosas que me hacen reír. También, cosas que son chistosos y hacen mi vida feliz, estas cosas van a existir en mi mural. Mi mural representa todos que son importantes en mi vida, y todos que hacen mi vida divertido, feliz, y generalmente bien. También, cosas como paz.

Ser feliz es muy importante para todas las personas, y es verdad que feliz es importante para las personas en mi barrio también. Otras cosas que son importante para personas en mi barrio son los deportes y comida. Comida es importante por todos porque necesitan comida para vivir, pero también comida es importante para las personas en Filadelfia porque la comida nativa de Filadelfia es muy rico. Por ejemplo, los “Cheesesteaks.” Paz es importante para personas también, hay muchos razones porque. Un razón es que violencia es responsable para muchos casos de muerte y crimen. Representa mucho delito que afecta las vidas de muchas personas.

Las personas en mi barrio enfocan en todos las cosas que yo dije, pero también hay mas cosas. Las personas tienen muchos otros intereses y valores, tan mas que no tengo la abilidad a hacer en un mural, pero por eso yo tengo otro solución. Para representar todos los intereses, yo voy a incluir unas cosas aleatorias. Si yo hago esto, las personalidades de todos personas yo pudiera representar.

Mi mural podría ubicarse en 22nd y Walnut. Es un lugar que muchas personas van porque es cerca de unos sitios populares y también están paradas de autobús. Así lo veo, es un lugar bien para un mural que podría hacer mucha gente llenos de felicidad. Mi mural no es graffiti, pero obviamente es arte publica. No es que unos personas piensen es “arte real,” pero para mi el arte esta bastante real, y tiene temas de feliz y paz que yo pienso pueden hacer. Personas piensen de las cosas felices o extraños en sus vidas. Esos son las cosas mejores en vida, porque sin felicidad, la vida no importa. Una vida triste con nada interesante o feliz no tiene sentido. Por estos razones, pienso que mi mural esta muy bien por la comunidad y por todos personas.

​By: Sarena Shuman

 

" You sound stupid! Use the right grammar; I don't know how you get straight A's. People judge you by how you talk, you know that?"

In my head, I’m saying It’s you and me here mom. Nobody can hear me.

But I whispered “Ok”

 

I never understood language. We all say the same words. If you understand what I’m saying than, why speak exactly proper? People going judge you anyway. If you really got something wrong with you then you get picked apart piece by piece. “Language is power!” That's what my mother always says. I just thought language is one part of the puzzle to how someone can judge you. Race and language relate in away. A black person talk ignorant it's "normal". A white person talk ignorant, they are considered to be talking "black". A black person talks proper they are consider to be talking "white".

 

“Hey Guys, how are you?”

“Yo Sarena, You black! Cut that shit out!”

“What? I was serious.”

“Why you talking like you white?”

“I was talking normal, I always talk like this.”

“You irk* Me, I swear!”

 

Just the thought of getting judged by the way you talk, is mind-boggling. You use language to communicate, if you understand me why should I change the way I talk to you? Now when I approach my friends, I talk to them like I’m from the “street”. I speak differently all the time. Speaking to my friends is totally different from when I speak to a teacher now.

 

“Yo, Sarena”

“Wassup, what you been up to”

“Chilling you know girl”

 

When I talk to my teacher we have the same conversation just with different words.

 “Hello.”

*Irk- means annoy

“How have you been Sarena?”

“I have been fine, and you?”

“I have been fine, thank you for asking.”

 

James Baldwin once said, “What joins all languages, and all men, is the necessity to confront life, in order, not inconceivably, to outwit death.” Meaning the way my friends and me speak is not taught in school. But proper English is. So the way I talk to my friends and to my teacher is totally different. I wonder, do I change my speech for acceptance? Makes me think about my Identity and who I truly am. I told my great grandmother about my thoughts. Here comes the lecture!

 

“You got two strikes against you. Being black and being a woman. You can give people excuses to bring you down. If you do, they will use it to their advantage."

 

“But how, Granny?”

“Most white people think that African Americans are stupid and can’t do what they do.”

“But I’m smart period.”

“By not talking proper, dressing right, and looking presentable. They will look at you like the average black woman. When I was growing up, woman cooked and clean. We spoke our proper English down Flordia, no education really. But the white folk just acted and treated us like we were stupid. When we were slaves, they didn’t even look at us like we were humans. I’m 89; African Americans can do so much now. Including getting an education. Don’t mess it up! That’s all I’m saying, baby.”

I nodded in agreement.

 

 

I looked into my great grandmothers eyes, and saw how much she cared. She made me realize that it’s not all about language. I had the pieces to the puzzle but it was never coming together. Language, race, environments, and society are all joined together, most of the time. When my grandmother said, “We spoke our proper English down Florida, no education really.” I formed a question, what’s proper English? Maybe that’s not the question, what’s proper English to people? Where you come from can determine how you talk. One area can think a person from a different area is talking incorrectly. So when my mother said " You sound stupid! Use the right grammar, I don't know how you get straight A's.” She was questioning my education, which is what many do. The reason my mother tells me this is because she didn’t teach me to talk that way. The environment I’m in the most is the way I talk, but sometimes when I change my environment I may speak how I do in a total different environment. They tell me to talk “proper” because the way they talk is different or somewhat “correct”. But didn’t someone create English and other languages. Why can’t I create words and language? New words get added to the dictionary everyday. Maybe you have to be a professor to makes words. Words have meaning, vowels, and letters. Easy to make, but why call my words or words that’s not “correct”, slang. Strangely, what they don’t know that I know is, Race, environments, and society makes up the way a person speak. Not how educated you are, and how well you follow the rules of “proper” English.

Questions

Answers

1.     What is your name (¿Cuál es su nombre?) 2.     What college did you graduate from? (¿Qúe unversidiad tú graduo de? 3.      What’s your major? (¿Cuál es su meta?) 4.     Why do you want this job? (¿Por qué quieres este trabajo?) 5.     What makes you different from other applicants? (¿Como es diferente de los otros personas?) 6.     What previous job experiences have you had? (¿Qué experiencias pasado tiene de trabajos?) 7.     Why should I give you the job? (¿Por qué tengo que darle al trabajo?)

1.     Me llamo Carmelo Mangum 2.     Yo grado de la universidad de Miami. 3.     Mi meta de colegio es la maestría de negocio y matemática en enero 2019. Yo grado uno de mi clase. 4.     Yo quiere este trabajo porque esta mi sueño trabajo.Yo quiero trabajar donde yo puede ayudar personas. 5.     Yo tiene dos maestrías de colegio y soy un difícil trabajadora. 6.     citizen bank contadora- yo trabajo en citizens bank y ayudo personas con dinero. La escuela de Anna b day matemåticas profesor- yo trabajo con los grados de sies y siete Science Leadership Academy principal- yo trabajo con seiscientos estudiantes en mi escuela. 7.     Tu debería dar me el trabajo porque yo voy a trabajar cien por ciento.

 

 

Peer-editor	Fecha	Comentarios / Recomendaciones
1. Anita	1/12/12	Good job, just fix your grammar.
2. jesus	1/12/12	Good job, everything looks good. You asked good questions
3. Tito	1/12/12	You asked good questions, just make sure there is no background noise.
4. Lupe	1/12/12	You did a real good job, nice questions. And the answers were good. Nice job.
5.Rosalinda	1/12/12	You did a good job as far as your volume is concerned, however, you need to use the correct conjugations and say it with confidence. Other than that, you did a good job in your project. J

 

 

 

 

I learned… how to say longer complete sentences	I feel…like I did a good job with my benchmark
If I could do this project all over again, I would… make it longer and put more detail into it	For next year, I suggest…giving more in class time and not having the test on the same time its due.