Stefan’s Diaries: Origins Chapter 26

I can't state to what extent I ran. The night was clear and cold, and my ardent just as it were beating in my neck, in my mind, in my feet. I sometimes squeezed my hand to the injury on my neck, which was all the while dying. The territory was warm to the touch, and I felt unsteady at whatever point I put my hand on it. With every stride, another picture showed up in my mind: Katherine, bloodstained froth gathering at the edge of her mouth; Father, remaining over her with a stake. Recollections obscured, so I didn't know whether the red-looked at, screeching beast who was on the floor was a similar individual who'd rushed at me with her teeth, who'd stroked me in the lake, who frequented my fantasies and my waking hours. I shuddered wildly and lost my balance, stumbling over a felled branch. I arrived on the soil, on all fours, and heaved over and again, until the iron-like preference for my mouth vanished. Katherine was going to bite the dust. Father detested me. I didn't have the foggiest idea what my identity was, or what I ought to do. The whole world was flipped around, and I felt discombobulated and frail, sure that regardless of what I did, I would cause obliteration. This was all my issue. Every last bit of it. In the event that I hadn't deceived Father and stayed quiet †¦ I constrained myself to slow down, at that point stood up and started running once more. As I ran, the aroma of the vervain in my pocket filled my noses. Its sweet, natural aroma drifted through my body, appearing to clear my head and saturate my appendages with an attentive vitality. I took a left on the soil way, amazed at the course I was picking, however without precedent for weeks, I felt sure about my activities. I burst into the sheriff's office, where Sheriff Forbes sat with his feet up on the work area, sleeping. In the one holding cell, the town alcoholic, Jeremiah Black, was wheezing boisterously, clearly working off a terrible night at the cantina. Noah, a youthful official, was likewise falling asleep on a wooden seat outside the cell. â€Å"Vampires! There are vampires at Veritas!† I shouted, causing Sheriff Forbes and Jeremiah to all the while snap to consideration. â€Å"Let's go. Follow me,† Sheriff Forbes stated, getting a club and a black powder rifle. â€Å"Noah!† he hollered. â€Å"Get the cart and follow behind with Stefan.† â€Å"Y sir,† Noah stated, hopping to his feet. He es, pulled a club from a snare on the divider and passed it to me. Simply at that point, I heard a piercing clamor, and I understood that Sheriff Forbes was ringing the alert outside the sheriff's office. The ringer banged again and again. â€Å"I can help. Please?† Jeremiah slurred, two hands on the bars. Noah shook his head and briskly went through the structure, his boots reverberating against the wooden floor pillars. I tailed him, halting to look as he hurriedly hitched two ponies to a long iron cart. â€Å"Come on!† Noah called eagerly, holding his whip. I bounced up onto the seat close to Noah and looked as he pushed every known limit, making the ponies run dangerously fast down the slope and into town. Individuals were remaining outside their homes in nightclothes and scouring their eyes, some hitching ponies to carts and mentors. â€Å"Attack at the Salvatore estate!† Noah called, again and again, until his voice nearly broke. I realized I should help. Be that as it may, I proved unable. Rather, I felt dread grasp my heart as the breeze whipped my face. I heard the clasp clopping of ponies out yonder, and saw entryways being flung open and more townspeople in their nightclothes hurriedly getting rifles, pikes, and some other weapon they could discover. As we jogged through town, I saw the pharmacist was shut firmly. Could Anna and Pearl be at home? Provided that this is true, I expected to give them an admonition. No. The word came so firmly, maybe my dad had murmured it in my ear himself. I expected to make things directly for me, for the Salvatore name. The main individuals I thought about were Father and Damon, and on the off chance that anything transpired †¦ â€Å"Attack at the Salvatore estate!† I hollered, my voice breaking. â€Å"Attack at the Salvatore estate!† Noah rehashed, his words seeming like a serenade. I gazed toward the sky. The moon was a minuscule fragment, and mists clouded any trace of starlight. In any case, out of nowhere, as we rode up the slope, I saw Veritas lit up like morning, with a crowd of what resembled a hundred people displaying lights and remaining on the means of the patio, hollering. Minister Collins remained on the yard swing, getting out petitions, as a few people watched him, stooping on the ground and imploring. Close to him was Honoria Fells, hollering to any individual who might tune in about devils and contrition. Elderly person Robinson was shaking his light and taking steps to torch the whole domain. â€Å"Stefan!† Honoria canceled as I hopped the cart before it halted. â€Å"For your protection,† she stated, proffering a part of vervain. â€Å"Excuse me,† I called dryly, as I pushed through the swarm, utilizing my elbows, and rushed to the carriage house and up the steps. I heard furious voices from the chambers. â€Å"I will take her! We'll leave, and you won't see both of us again!† Damon's voice, as low and inauspicious as approaching thunder. â€Å"Ungrateful!† Father thundered, and I heard a nauseating split. I limited up the steps and saw Damon, drooped against the entryway, a stream of blood overflowing from his sanctuary. The entryway had split from the effect of Damon's body. â€Å"Damon!† I called, falling onto my knees close to my sibling. Damon attempted to battle to his feet. I flinched as I saw the blood flooding from his sanctuary. At the point when he moved in the direction of me, his eyes blasted with outrage. Father stood, stake close by. â€Å"Thank you for getting the sheriff, Stefan. Y made the best choice. ou Unlike your brother.† Father connected toward him, and I panted, sure he would hit him once more. Be that as it may, rather he loosened up his hand. â€Å"Stand up, Damon.† Damon slapped away Father's hand. He remained all alone, cleaning the blood from his head with the rear of his hand. â€Å"Damon. Tune in to me,† Father kept, overlooking the vibe of unadulterated contempt all over. â€Å"Y were beguiled by the evil spirit †¦ by that ou Katherine. Be that as it may, presently she will vanish and you should agree with what's correct. I gave you kindness, yet these individuals †¦Ã¢â‚¬  He signaled toward the window and the irate crowd past it. â€Å"Then let me be killed,† Damon murmured, as he raged out the entryway. He brushed past me, hitting me hard with his shoulder as he ran down the steps. From inside the room, a horrifying yell rose. â€Å"Sheriff?† Father called, swinging make the way for Katherine's chambers. I heaved. There was Katherine, a cowhide gag over her face, her white arms and legs bound together. â€Å"She's ready,† Sheriff said dismally. â€Å"We'll take her to the cart and add her to the rundown. Gilbert has the compass and is gathering together the vampires around. By sunrise, we will have freed the town of this scourge.† Katherine gazed at me, a frantic, arguing articulation in her eyes. Be that as it may, what would I be able to do? She was lost to me now. I turned down the steps and ran.

A Game of Thrones Chapter Forty-three

Eddard Through the high limited windows of the Red Keep's huge royal chamber, the light of nightfall spilled over the floor, laying dim red stripes upon the dividers where the heads of monsters had once hung. Presently the stone was secured with chasing embroidered works of art, clear with greens and tans and blues, yet still it appeared to Ned Stark that the main shading in the lobby was the red of blood. He sat high upon the massive old seat of Aegon the Conqueror, an ironwork immensity of spikes and rugged edges and bizarrely contorted metal. It was, as Robert had cautioned him, a frightfully awkward seat, and never more so than now, with his broke leg pulsating all the more forcefully consistently. The metal underneath him had become more diligently constantly, and the fanged steel behind made it difficult to recline. A lord ought to never sit simple, Aegon the Conqueror had stated, when he directed his armorers to produce an extraordinary seat from the blades set somewhere near his foes. Damn Aegon for his pomposity, Ned thought gloomily, and damn Robert and his chasing also. â€Å"You are very sure these were more than brigands?† Varys asked delicately from the committee table underneath the seat. Fabulous Maester Pycelle mixed precariously alongside him, while Littlefinger played with a pen. They were the main councilors in participation. A white hart had been located in the kingswood, and Lord Renly and Ser Barristan had joined the ruler to chase it, alongside Prince Joffrey, Sandor Clegane, Balon Swann, and a large portion of the court. So Ned should needs sit the Iron Throne in his nonappearance. At any rate he could sit. Spare the gathering, the rest must stand deferentially, or bow. The solicitors bunched close to the tall entryways, the knights and high masters and women underneath the woven artworks, the smallfolk in the exhibition, the sent watches in their shrouds, gold or dark: all stood. The locals were stooping: men, ladies, and youngsters, the same worn out and bleeding, their countenances drawn by dread. The three knights who had brought them here to hold up under observer remained behind them. â€Å"Brigands, Lord Varys?† Ser Raymun Darry's voice dribbled disdain. â€Å"Oh, they were rascals, without question. Lannister brigands.† Ned could feel the disquiet in the lobby, as high masters and hirelings the same stressed to tune in. He was unable to profess to astound. The west had been a tinderbox since Catelyn had held onto Tyrion Lannister. Both Riverrun and Casterly Rock had called their flags, and armed forces were massing in the go underneath the Golden Tooth. It had just involved time until the blood started to stream. The sole inquiry that remained was the way best to stanch the injury. Tragic looked at Ser Karyl Vance, who might have been attractive however for the winestain skin coloration that stained his face, motioned at the stooping townspeople. â€Å"This is all the remaining parts of the holdfast of Sherrer, Lord Eddard. The rest are dead, alongside the individuals of Wendish Town and the Mummer's Ford.† â€Å"Rise,† Ned directed the locals. He never confided in what a man let him know from his knees. â€Å"All of you, up.† In ones and twos, the holdfast of Sherrer battled to its feet. One antiquated should have been helped, and a little youngster in a ridiculous dress remained on her knees, gazing vacantly at Ser Arys Oakheart, who remained by the foot of the seat in the white shield of the Kingsguard, prepared to secure and protect the ruler . . . or on the other hand, Ned assumed, the King's Hand. â€Å"Joss,† Ser Raymun Darry said to a stout thinning up top man in a brewer's cover. â€Å"Tell the Hand what occurred at Sherrer.† Joss gestured. â€Å"If it please His Graceâ€â€  â€Å"His Grace is chasing over the Blackwater,† Ned stated, considering how a man could carry on with as long as he can remember a couple of days ride from the Red Keep and still have no thought what his lord resembled. Ned was clad in a white material doublet with the direwolf of Stark on the bosom; his dark fleece shroud was attached at the neckline by his silver hand of office. Highly contrasting and dim, all the shades of truth. â€Å"I am Lord Eddard Stark, the King's Hand. Disclose to me what your identity is and what you are aware of these raiders.† â€Å"I keep . . . I kept . . . I kept an alehouse, m'lord, in Sherrer, by the stone extension. The best beer south of the Neck, everybody said as much, asking your absolutions, m'lord. It's gone presently like all the rest, m'lord. They come and drank their fill and spilled the rest before they terminated my rooftop, and they would of threatened my wellbeing as well, on the off chance that they'd got me. M'lord.† â€Å"They consumed us out,† a rancher alongside him said. â€Å"Come riding in obscurity, up from the south, and terminated the fields and the houses the same, executing them as attempted to stop them. They weren't no bandits, however, m'lord. They had no psyche to take our stock, not these, they butchered my milk cow where she stood and left her for the flies and the crows.† â€Å"They rode down my ‘prentice boy,† said a squat man with a smith's muscles and a wrap around his head. He had gotten into his best garments to come to court, yet his breeches were fixed, his shroud travel-recolored and dusty. â€Å"Chased him to and fro over the fields on their ponies, jabbing at him with their spears like it was a game, them giggling and the kid lurching and shouting till the enormous one pierced him clean through.† The young lady on her knees extended her head up at Ned, high over her on the seat. â€Å"They murdered my mom as well, Your Grace. Also, they . . . they . . . † Her voice trailed off, as though she had overlooked what she was going to state. She started to wail. Ser Raymun Darry took up the story. â€Å"At Wendish Town, the individuals looked for cover in their holdfast, however the dividers were timbered. The looters heaped straw against the wood and consumed them all alive. At the point when the Wendish people cleared a path for escape the shoot, they shot them down with bolts as they came running out, even ladies with nursing babes.† â€Å"Oh, dreadful,† mumbled Varys. â€Å"How savage can men be?† â€Å"They would of done likewise for us, yet the Sherrer holdfast's made of stone,† Joss said. â€Å"Some needed to clear us out, however the large one said there was riper organic product upriver, and they made for the Mummer's Ford.† Ned could feel cold steel against his fingers as he inclined forward. Between each finger was an edge, the purposes of wound blades fanning out like claws from arms of the seat. Considerably following three centuries, some were still sharp enough to cut. The Iron Throne was brimming with snares for the unwary. The melodies said it had taken a thousand sharp edges to make it, warmed white-hot in the heater breath of Balerion the Black Dread. The pounding had taken fifty-nine days. Its finish was this slouched dark monster made of razor edges and thorns and strips of sharp metal; a seat that could execute a man, and had, if the accounts could be accepted. What Eddard Stark was doing staying there he could never grasp, yet there he sat, and these individuals sought him for equity. â€Å"What verification do you have that these were Lannisters?† he asked, attempting to monitor his wrath. â€Å"Did they wear blood red shrouds or fly a lion banner?† â€Å"Even Lannisters are not all that visually impaired inept as that,† Ser Marq Piper snapped. He was a strutting peewee chicken of an adolescent, excessively youthful and too hot-blooded for Ned's taste, however a quick companion of Catelyn's sibling, Edmure Tully. â€Å"Every man among them was mounted and sent, my lord,† Ser Karyl addressed serenely. â€Å"They were equipped with steel-tipped spears and longswords, with fight tomahawks for the butchering.† He signaled toward one of the worn out survivors. â€Å"You. Indeed, you, nobody's going to hurt you. Mention to the Hand what you told me.† The elderly person bounced his head. â€Å"Concerning their horses,† he stated, â€Å"it were warhorses they rode. Numerous a year I worked in old Ser Willum's pens, so I knows the distinction. Not a one of these ever pulled a furrow, divine beings give testimony I'm wrong.† â€Å"Well-mounted brigands,† watched Littlefinger. â€Å"Perhaps they took the ponies from the last spot they raided.† â€Å"How numerous men were there in this attacking party?† Ned inquired. â€Å"A hundred, at the least,† Joss replied, in a similar moment as the gauzed smith stated, â€Å"Fifty,† and the grandma behind him, â€Å"Hunnerds and hunnerds, m'lord, a military they was.† â€Å"You are more right than you know, goodwoman,† Lord Eddard advised her. â€Å"You state they flew no flags. What of the reinforcement they wore? Did any of you note adornments or improvements, gadgets on shield or helm?† The brewer, Joss, shook his head. â€Å"It laments me, m'lord, however no, the protective layer they indicated us was plain, just . . . the person who drove them, he was shielded like the rest, however there was no mixing up him no different. It was the size of him, m'lord. Those as state the goliaths are on the whole dead never observed this one, I swear. Large as a bull he might have been, and a voice like stone breaking.† â€Å"The Mountain!† Ser Marq said noisily. â€Å"Can any man question it? This was Gregor Clegane's work.† Ned heard murmuring from underneath the windows and the most distant finish of the corridor. Indeed, even in the cookroom, apprehensive murmurs were traded. High masters and smallfolk the same realized what it could mean if Ser Marq was demonstrated right. Ser Gregor Clegane stood bannerman to Lord Tywin Lannister. He contemplated the terrified essences of the townspeople. Little marvel they had been so frightful; they had thought they were being hauled here to name Lord Tywin an in the act butcher before a ruler who was his child by marriage. He thought about whether the knights had given them a decision. Fantastic Maester Pycelle rose awkwardly from the gathering table, his chain of office ringing. â€Å"Ser Marq, with deference, you can't realize that this criminal was Ser Gregor. There are numerous enormous men in the realm.† â€Å"

February updates

February updates Hello! I wanted to take this opportunity to provide an update on the admissions process. We have received approximately 15,600 applications for freshman admission this year. As you can see on the admissions statistics page, this represents an increase of more than 2,000 applications; this is a record number. With so many excellent applicants this year, it will be hard to choose. We have begun selection committee meetings. Thus, it is too late for any supplemental materials to be considered by the selection committee. However, an admissions officer will continue to review anything you send in as a supplement. I think it is important to remember, however, that if you have completed your application, we have everything that we need to make a decision on your case. The Application Tracking System on MyMIT is no longer available. We are still processing midyear grades. If we are missing your midyear grades, and they have not yet been processed, and we have a question about your academic performance, we will be calling your school to get them. For other students whose grades have been consistent, we will make a decision on the case; when the midyear grades later come in, we will review them, and the decision will be reviewed if there is an aberration in the midyears. At this time, due to the continued processing of midyear grades, calling to check on the status of your midyear grade report is not necessary. We do no yet have a set date for the release of admissions decisions. When we know, I promise you we will announce that date here on the website. We are aiming for mid-March but there is not yet a target date. Admissions decisions will be available exclusively online. I hope this update is helpful!

Women Poets of History How Many Do You Know

Gun Violence Sets A Blood-Soaked Benchmark Each Time - Free Essay Example

Sample details Pages: 3 Words: 890 Downloads: 1 Date added: 2019/03/20 Category Society Essay Level High school Tags: Gun Violence Essay Did you like this example? Gun Violence Sets A Blood-Soaked Benchmark Each Time What Can We Do? Schools are considered as homes to several students across the country in a panglossian view. The wounds of parents losing their children are on an unprecedented rise and those wounds can never be healed. Those who escaped the macabre dance of death are traumatized by the memories of their friends and colleagues mowed down in front of them. Don’t waste time! Our writers will create an original "Gun Violence Sets A Blood-Soaked Benchmark Each Time" essay for you Create order Schools are places where a person learns to comport, couth, and grow emotionally and intellectually. When a person walks into the school in the morning, one should be able to reassure their family that they will be back home later in the day without having to face any danger. School- safety is supposed to be a top priority to make school a positive, healthy, safe and comfortable environment which plays a colossal role in a students life. This, unfortunately, is much more difficult to do so in our current society. Places around the country have had to face menacing situations that involve violence that causes harm and chaos in a so called safe school environment. Schools need to reassure people that their safety is paramount. A positive and safe school environment can be provided by giving mental and emotional support to students, improving the safety procedures during emergency situations, and adding precautionary equipment to the school. The mental or emotional state of a person can influence their actions a lot more than we notice. Students and teachers constantly have a lot of things to face throughout the school year and having to keep to themselves might as well cause them to do things they do not intend to do. People need to be able to share their thoughts and emotions with someone they trust, and they need to feel free to talk to them and take advice from them. Schools need to make it a habit that everyone is required to talk to the guidance counselors at least once in a month, so they would not have to deal with high-stress levels on their own. Schools should talk to the students about the importance of not hurting others as well as not getting hurt. Bullying and peer pressure are common issues t hat are faced by teenagers and this might influence them to be apoplectic. The schools need to provide support and help to people dealing with mental illnesses or emotional disturbances. The incident at Marjory Douglas High School, Parkland Florida happened because a 19-year-old named Nikolas Cruz needed mental support. If they could have provided him with that, those innocent civilians may not have had to end up in a situation like that. The disturbed human mind is sensitive and can make you do a lot of things, some of them you will highly regret. Safety procedures during emergency situations such as attacks can be modified to provide the student and faculty a better chance at survival. Classrooms can be set in a certain way to enable better safety and cause less harm. Students and teachers can work as a team to ensure everyones safety. Help from the police department is very important as well. The local police should have access to the schools layout. There should be a prior rescue plan in place in the eventuality of an attack. Classrooms have mere seconds to react before the crisis has started causing harm, and seconds are not enough for them to lock doors, shut the screens, get everyone together in a certain spot and take attendance. The schools should run through these modified procedures frequ ently to ensure that the students and the faculty are comfortable with them. Precautionary equipment can be added around the school to avoid emergency situations. Metal detectors at every entrance to the school can help keep guns, knives and other harmful things out of the school. Along with having metal detectors, having full body scans is another resort to identifying harmful equipment. Having these kind of equipment can help the school get a little more time to start the safety procedures. Having this kind of detectors can also help the school get help a lot faster than having to call for help after the attack has started causing harm. Precautionary equipment can help the school keep things under control in emergency situations along with providing a better chance of survival in unexpected events, or preventing them altogether.Schools are said to be vulnerable and yet it ought not to mean a disaster on such high scales can occur so easily. Schools should be able to protect the people under unfavorable circumstances. Vowing to arm teachers in the aftermath of a massive attack is quite a malarkey and its another rambling piece of twaddle exposing a meaningless political view. It will also not take much time for the obtuse NRA to resurface with their twisted n arrative of spreading the usage of guns. Schools can, however, provide a positive and healthy school environment by ensuring the safety of the students and the faculty and this can be done by providing mental and emotional support to those who need it, by improving the safety procedures taken during emergency situations and also by adding precautionary equipment to the school. These improvements and modifications will make a school a home again in the future just like it has in the past.

Performing and Visual Arts Free Essays

The definition for visual and performing arts is: skill that requires public performance, as acting, singing, dancing. To discuss personal experiences with the visual and performing arts as a creator, performer and audience member will be addressed, followed by the values of studying visual and performing arts, the indication why visual and performing arts is created, and how it reflects to society. Some of the experiences I have on Visual and Performing arts are as a creator, performer and especially an audience member. We will write a custom essay sample on Performing and Visual Arts or any similar topic only for you Order Now I had been involved in music since the 5th grade. I loved being a part of a choir and the great benefits it had towards me even till this day. My most memorable moment was when I made the top 5 soprano list in the Phoenix Union High School. It has taught me a lot about team work, perseverance, and confidence. My experience with being an audience member for visual arts expands as each year comes. Lots of my experiences come from back in high school, only four years ago. With the help of my performing art teachers I was about to see many varieties of performances. They include Madame Butterfly, Jesus Christ Superstar, Rent, Traditional Mexican Folk Dance (La Rondalla) and Jazz Mad. As an audience member, I really enjoy what the visual and performing arts has in store for all of us. I support and encourage strongly the importance of art, music, dance, theater and all that the visual and performing arts has to offer. I think it’s an amazing way for one to express themselves as well as so many emotions and cultures. As someone who is studying to become a teacher, the value of studying the visual and performing arts is just as important as knowing your own career. So many values can be cherished from the visual and performing arts. For someone who is teaching it should have the feeling of accomplishment when you find your own student enjoying what they are producing. The value of finding comfort in what you taught is being translated in a positive energy. Sporre â€Å"When a person Studies the mechanics of internal combustion engines, the intended result is that he should be better able to understand, design, build, or repair such engines, and sometimes he should be better able to find employment because of his skills, and thus better life†¦ – For living is a vocation we have in common despite our differences. † (p. g. 3) Humans are known for being creative people. People create of participate in the visual and performing arts because it’s a ways for them to express themselves. Whether it’s just a hobby or a career; this is a way for people to examine and communicate with the world. Sporre â€Å"Humans are a creative species. Whether in science, politics, business, technology, or the arts, we depend on our creativity almost as much as anything else to meet the demands of daily life. † (p. g.5) Sporre â€Å"Recognizing the artistic principles and influences all around us makes our world more interesting and habitable. The arts are elements of life with which we can and must deal and to which we must respond every day. We live with the arts because their principles permeate our existence. Specifically, the aesthetic experience provides a way of knowing and communicating in and of itself, separate from other ways of knowing and communicating. The arts play important roles in making the world around us a more interesting and habitable place.â€Å"(p. g. 2) In conclusion, my experiences in visual and performing arts with regards to creator, performance and audience member are involved in today’s world. I strongly believe in the values that the visual and performing arts has to offer and the end reward that it gives to each individual that is a part of it whether if they are performing, creating or watching. Humans are creative people and their participation in visual arts is performed every day and is influenced by society. How to cite Performing and Visual Arts, Papers Performing and Visual Arts Free Essays Performing and Visual Arts Mia Debrowski ARTS 100 August 27, 2012 Jordan Handler Performing and Visual Arts If there is one thing in this life that cannot be escaped, it is art. Art takes over our visual, audio senses as well as sensation of touch at times. Not only does art take over our senses but it does something very wonderful to our mental status. We will write a custom essay sample on Performing and Visual Arts or any similar topic only for you Order Now It raises awareness and stimulates our brains. Some art can touch us on a very deep emotional level. The very definition of art may vary from one person’s opinion to another. It has been said that for centuries the many have debated without resolution of defining the word â€Å"art† (Sporre, 2011). The definition of performing and visual art can be described as a creative form of communication through several different outlets. These may include plays, music, paintings, sculptures, dance and so much more. My personal experience with art has been such a positive influence in my life. Art has always been my escape. When I was a teenager I was going through some hard family times. On my lunch break at school Iwould go into the music room and teach myself how to play the piano. Typically I get frustrated very easily when I do not know how to do something and I do not pick up on it right away. My fingers were not limber enough for piano, I knew how to read music but had no idea where these notes were located on the piano, I was clueless. For some reason sitting at that piano calmed me, I never once got frustrated. To this day music is still an outlet for me. More often then that it includes dancing to go with it. I love to dance for fun, dance away my stress. I adore watching true dancers perform more than anything. I often watch the Television show So You Think You Can Dance on Fox. There has been so many times that the performance has made me cry. There are several things that go into this amazing performance making me cry. The choreographer turn their story into a vision of dance in their head and pair it with the perfect song. A choreographer can have a great dance but without the perfect dancers then it will never come across right. The dancer has to have the raw emotion come through their performance as well. The wardrobe also helps create this character the dancer is trying to portrait. When all of these elements are paired together just right it creates a truly magical experience for me. I think humans cannot help ourselves in creating art. We are a very creative, intelligent and emotional species. I think that art is our way of expressing ourselves, telling our stories and reaching out to others. Art creates a common ground for people that they may not otherwise have. One of the first things infants do is coo at themselves almost in song. When an infant gets to a point where they can stand or walk first instinct is to bounce when they hear music. To be without art would to be without emotion and passion. It seems that it is almost encoded into our DNA to have creativity and artistic abilities, even if it is in just the mildest form. References D. J. Spoore, Perceiving the Arts: An Introduction to the Humanities. (pp. 1-235). Upper Saddle River : Prentice Hall. How to cite Performing and Visual Arts, Essay examples

Insomnia Inspiring free essay sample

Will I miss them, the sleepless nights, whispering secrets to the darkness? Maybe, or maybe not, but I will remember them. I’ll remember the intricately woven silence as I traced the shadows on my walls. I will remember the warmth of my haven, and the lack of a symbolically driven force playing at my mind. I’ll remember the images dancing across my imagination in exquisite form, as an unending song repeated in my head. I’ll remember dreams and plans, exaggerated and bemused, filling paper and memories with asphyxiating phrases, as the shimmering of the fading day left me desolate. I’ll remember the cruelty of the night, stretching out to cover an eternity; the insomnia and the words, etching them deep inside my conscious mind. I’ll remember the pain of the passing days, the longing for a cure, and the majestic beauty that held my shattered spirit. We will write a custom essay sample on Insomnia Inspiring or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Will I miss those nights? Most likely. The hours of sacrifice and joy, matched by the rage and bewilderment driven solely by passion, lacking any sign of hope. The discoveries found on dead trees, breathing life into the ink flowing over them. The limitless walls of a shadowed room providing me with the only sense of home I have ever known. I might miss the comfort of the one piece of stability and familiarity, sparkling in my memory like the star-strewn sky. Holding tight to the medications and diagnoses, irrelevant and unused, describing an adventure words could never have justice for; the delicately sketched photographs and the dead and withered roses, reminders of a past once lost and nearly forgotten. Will I miss those nights? Yes, for they brought the transitions of my being, delving into emotions deep and impenetrable. The fear as I watched things fall apart, replicated in the terror of the spaces between the stars. The numbness I felt in protection of all I could save of my identity ever lost and regained. The anger and betrayal as life plummeted, and I was held hostage by unseen chains I didn’t have the strength to break. The anxiety that stole pieces of my sanity, leaving a veiled existence covering a broken and shivering body, the panic attacks that visited me in my sleep, not allowing a moments rest. I will miss those nights greatly; they shaped my future by piecing together my past. Those nights found what the daylight could never resurrect, a knowledge and truth once lost in obscurity, giving my soul more than hope could ever offer. In those nights, I found the beauty of the darkness, and the beauty of all in the world surrounding me. I found the glamor of life, death, and all other opposing forces. Those nights created me. They gave me a basis of survival for many long nights to come, with both the darkness and the light as my friend. Everything I’ve gained in life relates back to those hours of solitude, those hours of analyzing life and everything that had happened. The darkness gave me one of the most valuable gifts I have ever received: understanding. Understanding of the insanity of the world around me, understanding of events both fated and willed, and, most importantly, understanding of myself, and everything I am. Self-discovery had been the longest journey of my life, ending with the realization that every definite identity is merely another mask. My true identity lies in each experience I’ve survived, and my drained masks lie in the dead silence of those nights.