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		<title>Blog week 4</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/10/02/blog-week-4/</link>
		<comments>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/10/02/blog-week-4/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 02 Oct 2009 22:16:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jbartram</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Projecting Gender by Robert Mapplethorpe discusses the ways people  identify gender and sex. We use characteristics or stereotypes to decide gender. If you see someone wearing a dress you assume its a women. We created icons to distinguish the bathrooms of the two sexes, not words. Humans rely mainly on visual indicators to differentiate the [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=40&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Projecting Gender by Robert Mapplethorpe discusses the ways people  identify gender and sex. We use characteristics or stereotypes to decide gender. If you see someone wearing a dress you assume its a women. We created icons to distinguish the bathrooms of the two sexes, not words. Humans rely mainly on visual indicators to differentiate the two genders.</p>
<p>The Veil is a cartoon that illustrates the conflict between her ethnic and religious identity. She is in a conflict about finding her identity, because she grew up Persian and is living in contemporary Iran which is the Islamic Republic. She doesn&#8217;t know how she should view herself because she feels Persian but she is forced to obey Islamic Rule.</p>
<p>The pictures of men are examples of how the stereotype of men has been viewed over time. Men are pictured to be strong and to have a good self image. They are pictured to be confident and self driven.</p>
<p>The pictures by Nancy Burson go beyond gender typing to see the shared aspects of men and women. Where many try to see the differences of men and women, She intentionally obscures features that tend to me male or tend to be female.</p>
<p>Gender Training talks about how one learns what makes people female and what makes people male and whether it is done by nature or nurture. That genetics play a larger role in gender development But this genetic role is reinforced by nurture. Social roles are as gender is involved is started to merge together. Where Women are starting to join the army and so on.</p>
<p>Examining Difference is about how we react to racial and ethnic differences. Many authors have sited the assimilation of the different ethnic groups in the American culture as a melting pot, historically groups such the Irish,Italians, Germans have seen this assimilation relatively easy. For groups identified through skin color, such as African Americans, Hispanics, and Asian have found acceptance to be more difficult because of there skin color. Discrimination based on skin color is breaking down gradually.</p>
<p>How to Live by Annie Dillard talks about how group identity shapes your life and how you view the world. What you value, what music you listen to, what drinks you like, is all determined by what group your in and all this is done subconsciously. She points this out because she suggests that a wider view will allow us to change a perceptiveness of the world and our place in it.</p>
<p>The pictures and articals located on pages 454-465 are artistic expressions of foreign view of American culture. How American problems impact the rest of the world. That the use of drugs in the cities and suburbs results in blood shed in Colombia. How the destruction of 9/11 effects people in Pakistan. American consumption results in toxic waste in China. All examples of the unitended consequences of American cultural, economic, and political expansion.</p>
<p>A Touchy Subject by Paul Fussel is an article exploring the nature of economic and social class in America. In America everybody is  born equal but that is last instant that it is true. Classes are not suppose to exist in the American Society, Therefore the discussion of classes in America becomes a sensitive subject. The author asserts that just because the issue of class is a uncomfortable subject, that does not mean we should not study it.</p>
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		<title>Blog week 3</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/09/25/blog-week-3/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 26 Sep 2009 02:33:01 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jbartram</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Man vs Ant by Willard Wigan is a sculpture that contrasts the real size of an ant to the size of the miniature man. The frame is broken up into two, at the point where the ant and the man meet, by the white and green background. Through distortion of size, the artist was able [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=30&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Man vs Ant by Willard Wigan is a sculpture that contrasts the real size of an ant to the size of the miniature man. The frame is broken up into two, at the point where the ant and the man meet, by the white and green background. Through distortion of size, the artist was able to make two things that are unequal, appear to be the equal.</p>
<p>The Fascination of the Miniature by Steven Millhauser observes why the miniature brings attention to the human eye. Miniature is not the same as small, it is the smaller version of something larger. A bottle cap is small but it is not miniature. The artist formatted the essay so that even the size of the paper is miniature. This is to catch the readers attention and to bring in visual support to the artist’s claim.</p>
<p>From the Introduction to A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson is an essay about the world at the atomic level. When humans only live for 650,00 hours and the world is 3.8 billion years old, it sure makes our lives look insignificant on the scale of the universe. There has been billions and billions of life forms on earth but 99.99 percent of them have been wiped out. The average species lasts only four million years. What makes us up is no different then what makes up the rest of the universe. The universe, where things not alive, can create things alive.</p>
<p>Reflections On A Mote Of Dust by Carl Sagan compares magnitudes by making the world the size of dot. The world we live in, compared to the whole universe, is minute. Its only a pebble in the land of rocks. We are the only ones around, so only we can change our future. We are so eager to snatch our lives away from each other in a place where all life struggles like an endangered species.</p>
<p>The Bullet going through the Apple is a picture of motion frozen in time. I know that all pictures are frozen in time but what makes this picture so special is at the speed at which the photo was taken. To the naked eye, a bullet is invisible so this picture illustrating a process that is normally unseen and forming it into a beautiful picture. Where the shadow is resting along the blue back ground. The apple getting ripped open showing that the appearance of something on the outside is not always the same on the inside. Where something with so much color can be white and pure on the inside.</p>
<p>The picture of the computer on a chip of silicon evokes images of a city with its buildings, roads, and houses. Roads are not so different then wires. They take things from point A to point B. Computer chips hold memory, and buildings  hold people. If a concept is good at the large scale why wouldn’t it work at the small scale? In this case, these two things that seemed different actually had a lot in common.Their differences are just a matter of scale.</p>
<p>A Matter of Scale by K.C. Cole is an observation about size and scale and how natural forces act on each one differently. Fleas can surpass superhuman feats by jumping 100 times their own height. A rat can be thrown from the empire state building and survive because air resistance reduces its terminal velocity Sometimes a change of scale really does make a difference. Depending on the property size really does make a difference. We are dependent on the truth of this phenomena for all our devices that function at the atomic level.</p>
<p>The Man Up of Blocks picture is made up of a bunch of smaller images that come together to make an illusion of a man. There are  no smooth lines but the human eye perceives the collection of straight lines to be smooth from our prior knowledge of a face. By this technique the artist highlighted the construction of a whole from smaller constituent parts.  From the shadows on the forehead to the facial features, like the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.</p>
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		<title>Observation beach</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/09/25/observation-beach/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 25 Sep 2009 01:17:32 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jbartram</dc:creator>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://jbartram.wordpress.com/?p=28</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I look to my left and I see my life long friends, I look to my right I see the waves crashing on the beach, I look in front of me and I see the sun gaze down on me, what more can I ask for. Seagulls fly over head looking for food left on [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=28&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I look to my left and I see my life long friends, I look to my right I see the waves crashing on the beach, I look in front of me and I see the sun gaze down on me, what more can I ask for. Seagulls fly over head looking for food left on the beach. There were smaller birds already on the ground, fighting for food they had found. Fisherman cutting up fish for bait so they can go fishing. Other fisherman were in the water with nets, trying to catch bait fish, some fisherman are already in the knee deep water with their lines out ready to catch a fish. I watched them for quite sometime but nothing was caught, must have been a bad day for them. There are tourists in the water enjoying the sunny day. There kids boogie boarding while there parents sat back watching there kids enjoy the waves. People that are walking along the beach come over to pet my friends dog, which they liked very much. My eyes scanning the horizon, when a beautiful piece of land caught my attention. It was a jetty that was jutting out into the ocean, at the mouth of the sound. The shadows of the clouds moving across the water making the ocean seem darker in places. The low tide is rising into high tide, the water getting closer and closer to my feet. The grass on the sand dune swaying in the afternoon breeze.  It brings back memory’s from my childhood when I used run up on them feeling like I was on top of the world. A yacht is coming back in port. The yacht had to have been worth a million or more. It occurred to me that someone had  more money to spend on a boat then, my parents had to spend on a house.  Such things fuel my desire for success and spark thoughts of a life where i one day own such a yacht.  The beach is a place for these daydreams and a place where a day can seem as if it were such a dream, with the sun shining down and the fish piling up I sit and observe what my life is now and envision what my life will hopefully become. Who knows?, maybe one day I will be in that yacht and someone will be watching me as I sail back to port, wondering and dreaming just as I am now.</p>
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		<title>Observation of a picture</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/09/23/observation-of-a-picture/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 23 Sep 2009 11:27:47 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jbartram</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[The Picture on Page 132 is a figure of a man that is put together by different colored boxes. When looked at closely there are no smooth lines, but when looked at afar it creates the illusion of a man. The background appears to be grey but it is just a formation of the orange [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=25&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The Picture on Page 132 is a figure of a man that is put together by different colored boxes. When looked at closely there are no smooth lines, but when looked at afar it creates the illusion of a man. The background appears to be grey but it is just a formation of the orange and blue shapes. It takes many small pictures to create one big picture. When those small boxes are viewed by them selves, like the picture on the right, it is much harder to make out the big image. Even though the colors are not the same,they form together to create one uniformed color. There is even a shadow that created across the mans face. I am curious why the artist put white spots in the beard, maybe he wanted the man to look old, or maybe he just wanted to break up the solid color of the beard. The glasses draw attention to the center of the mans face which helps see the picture as a whole.  At first glance the eyes appear to be simple, because they are the only complete circles in the picture, But when viewed from the picture on the right, the eyes are actually made up of three circles which give the illusion of an iris. When the picture on left is compared to picture on the right, you can see a diamond around the eye but when viewed from the picture on the left it appears as a shadow. The way something is viewed can change the perception of that image greatly. If the Picture on the right stood alone I would  not have been able to tell that was a face. Sometimes it is needed to understand the big picture before you can go further and understand things in greater detail.</p>
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		<title>my bed 3 pages</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/09/07/my-bed-3-pages/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Sep 2009 18:23:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jbartram</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[My bed has become a great importance to me during my high school career. My bed has brought me comfort over those years and I miss it dearly now that   it is gone. It has become a home within a home, where I can relax my body and rest my mind. Laying in bed staring [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=22&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="text-align:justify;text-indent:36px;font:13px Georgia;margin:0;">My bed has become a great importance to me during my high school career. My bed has brought me comfort over those years and I miss it dearly now that   it is gone. It has become a home within a home, where I can relax my body and rest my mind. Laying in bed staring at the red  fan that was  directing the cool air down on me, the spinning blades are a blur, until my eyes focus on a single point. When life gets stressful I tend to find my self laying down in bed gathering my thoughts.  Focusing on my dreams or aspirations gives me relief, because I know I have something to look forward to and I tend to forget that when I am stressed. During the summer I would always have my fan on high, it would cause a poster to flap through out the night creating a very calm, soothing sound that I enjoyed Listening to if I could not sleep. I have two windows in my room, one opening to the east to let the morning sun in and one right above my headrest of my bed, this is the one I enjoy. I Watch the trees sway during stormy nights and I gaze at the stars on nights that are clear.  On those summer nights raccoons would climb up onto the roof and put there heads up against the glass window, they were curious little creatures. I am sure that if I had left a window open, they would have invited themselves in. My bed has comforted me despite some sleepless nights and dreadful mornings. You do not realize how much you like something until it’s gone. I would love to be sleeping in my bed right now with the curtains barely cracked and the light beaming down on me telling me to wake up.   If you had told me, when I was younger, that my favorite place was going to be my bed, I would have never believed you. I loved waking up before everyone else and going down and siting in the living room watching the television while waiting for everyone else to rise. I would hate having to sleep because I would feel the time slipping by unexperienced. At night, I would tremble and fear the darkness because I was alone. I would lay there being scared and the only light it my room was a clock. Of course it was digital clock that had no second hand. So I would wait for the minute hand to turn and I would begin counting to see if I could count at the same speed as the clock, But I would never be able to stay awake to see I was counting in rhythm.  Sometime during those high school years those cares vanished from my mind and slipped into oblivion and I   no longer wanted to smell the fresh coffee in the mornings or wanted to be the first one up on Christmas day. Now that I am older it seems that I have learned to appreciate being alone and the ability to relax. My phone charger and phone always next to me, waking me up early in the morning or sometimes in the middle of the night. The laptop plugged into the speakers playing music until I fell asleep. I always wondered if listening to music while you were asleep would change what you dreamed about, But no matter how hard I tried I would always forget my dreams within ten seconds of waking.  Most nights I would  watch T.V. but I would always have lost the zapper from the previous night. So I would have to spend five minutes looking in the cracks and under the sheets. Thats why I said most nights because sometimes I would be to tired to look for the remote and I would just end up falling asleep. Going to the bathroom at night was always tricky, it was never hard getting to the bathroom, but it was always tricky coming back. One night I thought I could solve this by not turning on the bathroom light and I could just listen for the sound of water. Well I thought it was going to be a lot easier to find the toilet bowl. The next morning there was pee everywhere, I mainly hit the toilet, but man, sure did I miss the water.  . The deference between are conception of a perfect square and the reality of a picture frame hanging in the corner of my room. From where I lie, what I know to be a square looks an awful lot like a kite flying in the air not a single right angle to be seen. My imagination can breed creation, I have traveled far with out ever having to leave my room. I have aged and my bed has aged with me. It creaks and groans when I sit upon the edge. It would not   fling me to the ceiling if I should throw myself upon its surface. It starts to sink now like a mother caring for her son who is too heavy for her. I hear its soothing whispers now only in my mind. When was it that it said, “Get up you sleepy head!” I guess the time has come for me to leave my beloved bed behind because now I have new places to see, new people to meet, and new things to do.</p>
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		<title>Activity 1</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/09/05/activity-1/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Sep 2009 04:36:29 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Sarah Vowell commentary on Thanksgiving describes the first Thanksgiving holiday in which she hosts her family in her own home. The Tittle of the essay is a witty pun playing with the reader&#8217;s expectations of reference to the holiday celebrated by the pilgrims. The essay is a commentary on those mileposts in our lives such [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=19&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Sarah Vowell commentary on Thanksgiving describes the first Thanksgiving holiday in which she hosts her family in her own home. The Tittle of the essay is a witty pun playing with the reader&#8217;s expectations of reference to the holiday celebrated by the pilgrims. The essay is a commentary on those mileposts in our lives such as our first birthday, first day of school, first driver&#8217;s license and our holiday away from home.</p>
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		<title>Blog week 2</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/09/05/blog-week-2/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Sep 2009 03:57:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jbartram</dc:creator>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://jbartram.wordpress.com/?p=15</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The First ThanksGiving by Sarah Vowell is dark but an eye opening personal narrative. The family is a quite traditional family that doesn&#8217;t like the compony of others. The young women invited her parents to come up to have Thanksgiving with her in New York. She never expected for her parents to say yes which [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=15&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The First ThanksGiving by Sarah Vowell is dark but an eye opening personal narrative. The family is a quite traditional family that doesn&#8217;t like the compony of others. The young women invited her parents to come up to have Thanksgiving with her in New York. She never expected for her parents to say yes which tells the reader that this family might be lacking the typical family values. The women also has a younger sister , Amy who is married and has a seven month old son. Her husband, Jay decided to stay home and go deer hunting with his brother. When the family is together they tend do things that do not involve conversation, like sight seeing or going to the movies. But with the seven month old son these things are not possible to do. The family is stuck together for five days. The women was very nervous about if they had enough stuff to talk about. Her father always cracks jokes about how much she  awaits for the moment they say good by. She says even though its a joke it is disturbingly true. The family moved from Oklahoma to Montana where her grandmother moved there from sweden. The women was watching a video on health inspections given to immigrants when she realized  that every generation of her family moves away from the previous generation.  By the end they all end up doing there own things. The narrator notices one final thing that everyone in her family is homebody claustrophobes who prefer to be alone and are suspicious of other people. There Individuality makes them the same.</p>
<p>On Photography by Susan Sontag is a personal narrative about photography. Photography not used as art but as amusement. To be able to look at a picture and get happiness from it. When a person takes a picture it means something to them. Pictures are always taken to capture something. Memories will always be retrieved by looking at a picture. The act of photography is widely  used by the public and in the family settings. It is awkward to be on a trip for pleasure and not to bring a camera.</p>
<p>On Photography by Susan Sontag is a personal narrative about photography. Photography not used as a fine art but as vehicle to capture moments in time. The image captures a slice of our experience and becomes a nexus for our memories. All the emotions and connections between and among the photographer and the subject is projected onto the image at the focal point of the lens. In the future when we gaze upon the recorded image the memories of that moment fill our consciousness and restore that fleeting instant. The memories are personal pleasure not public consumption.</p>
<p>&#8220;Picture Perfect&#8221; by Babetle Hines is a personal reflection on the qualities of a collection of short image sequences captured inside a photo-booth. Though the subjects of these sequences are decades removed from us we can still recognize the emotions and spirit of the moment. In the photo-booth there is no photographer to enforce his choice of instant capture. In the photo-booth there is only the subject and the camera.</p>
<p>&#8220;The Photograph&#8221; by N. Scott Momaday is personal narrative about the views on oneself. How you view the world, can only be seen by yourself. If you never fly then you will never see how a hawk views the world. By taking the picture of the old women, the women realized how others view her. By taking a picture you broaden the views of others</p>
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		<title>Blog Week 1</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/08/28/blog-week-1/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 28 Aug 2009 21:13:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jbartram</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[An Oil on Canvas by John Uplike is a personal narrative  about the relationship between a man and a painting. Most of the story goes on a tangent on the paintings artist, Alice Davis 1933. I do not feel like the author did a good job staying on topic but, when the author is not [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=9&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>An Oil on Canvas by John Uplike is a personal narrative  about the relationship between a man and a painting. Most of the story goes on a tangent on the paintings artist, Alice Davis 1933. I do not feel like the author did a good job staying on topic but, when the author is not talking about alice he is describing about how the painting made him the person he is. His mother bought the painting when he was one. He goes in great detail of the painting almost as an art critic. The author is always observing new things about the painting. It is interesting how much one painting can influence a man.</p>
<p>I Sand Here Ironing by Tillie Olsen is about a single mother not being able to take care of her daughter. She is young and unexperienced and is overwhelmed with the responsibilities of being a single mother. Her daughter(Emily) spent most of her young life in daycare and when she was older she was sent off to a clinic. The lack of attention that was given to Emily made her lack in self confidence . When she became older she became a comedian at her highschool. The story ends with this quote &#8220;That she is more than this dress on the ironing board, helpless before the iron.&#8221;</p>
<p>Once More to the Lake by E.B. White is a personal narrative full of description. White talks about how the father and son relationship is strong and repetitive. The Father takes his son to a lake in Maine, where his father once took him. The trip brings back memories for the father, and how much he is acting like his father once did. His life is now being replayed through his son. This was my favorite personal narrative because I enjoy how the author uses a descriptive style to contrast a point.</p>
<p>No Place Like Home by David Guterson is about a neighborhood that is based off a false sense of security. I think the author is saying that ignorance is bliss and only the wealthy can have bliss. Even though this neighborhood has a gate, neighborhood watch and its own police force its still not safe. The community is called Green Vally. The marketing logo is a G and V that is intertwined to make an optical illusion of two leaves and a plant stem. So this plant stem and leaves is the illusion of safety and the reality is that its a G and V.</p>
<p>Homeplace by Scott Russell Sanders is a personal narrative  about &#8220;rooting yourself in ideas rather than places&#8221;. The Millers invested so much time in there land that even though 3 tornados destroyed there property they are still living there. Should you buy a new car just because your car is old, even though it works great? For them they didn&#8217;t see anything wrong living there and rebuilding was just apart of there life. Novelist Salman Rushdie left his native land of India for England. Where there he wrote Imaginary Homelands. It is about migrant sensibility. He goes on to talk about how if you understand your homeplace you can better understand other diverse places. The overall out look of the author is that people are to focused on superficial ideas not the deeper meaning of objects.</p>
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		<title>My bed</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/08/26/my-bed/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 26 Aug 2009 15:34:53 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[My bed has become a great importance to me during my high school career. My bed has brought me comfort over those years and I miss it dearly now that  it is gone. It has become a home within a home, where I can relax my body and rest my mind. It has comforted me [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=7&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>My bed has become a great importance to me during my high school career. My bed has brought me comfort over those years and I miss it dearly now that  it is gone. It has become a home within a home, where I can relax my body and rest my mind. It has comforted me despite some sleepless nights and dreadful mornings. You do not realize how much you like something until it’s gone. I would love to be sleeping in my bed right now with the curtains barely cracked and the light beaming down on me telling me to wake up.  If you had told me, when I was younger, that my favorite place was going to be my bed, I would have never believed you. I loved waking up before everyone else and going down and siting in the living room watching the television while waiting for everyone else to rise. I would hate having to sleep because I would feel the time slipping by unexperienced. At night, I would tremble and fear the darkness because I was alone. Sometime during those high school years those cares vanished from my mind and slipped into oblivion and I  no longer wanted to smell the fresh coffee in the mornings or wanted to be the first one up on Christmas day. Now that I am older it seems that I have learned to appreciate being alone and the ability to relax. I have aged and my bed has aged with me. It creaks and groans when I sit upon the edge. It would not  fling me to the ceiling if I should throw myself upon its surface. It starts to sink now like a mother caring for her son who is too heavy for her. I hear its soothing whispers now only in my mind. When was it that it said, “Get up you sleepy head!” I guess the time was come for me to leave my beloved bed behind because now I have new places to see, new people to meet, and new things to do.</p>
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		<title>4 Questions</title>
		<link>http://jbartram.wordpress.com/2009/08/23/4-questions/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 23 Aug 2009 23:59:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jbartram</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[1. Why do you think this class is a required class? This class is mandatory because every student must learn how to format and master the ability to put your thoughts into words. Ideas without the ability to what communicate them are nothing. Each field of study has its own standards and conventions and professors [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=jbartram.wordpress.com&amp;blog=9124665&amp;post=3&amp;subd=jbartram&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>1. Why do you think this class is a required class?</p>
<p>This class is mandatory because every student must learn how to format and master the ability to put your thoughts into words. Ideas without the ability to what communicate them are nothing. Each field of study has its own standards and conventions and professors expect students to learn and to conform to these standards. Professors will ask for there papers to be in certain formats and this class will teach you how to identify and distinguish the difference of each one and how to properly write a formal essay.</p>
<p>2. What do you plan to get out of this class?</p>
<p>Writing has always been a challenge for me and I hope to get everything out of this class that I can. I hope to improve my skill in exchanging ideas between classmates and professors.  Where ever my school career takes me I will need to write effectively.  I plan on spending  many nights in the writing center and in the library. I hope this class improves me as a writer and as a student.</p>
<p>3. Writing is not my activity of choice. I have never gone home and written in my journal or chosen to write in my own time. I hope writing becomes easier for me as I go through college like many other things that become easier the more times you do them. I look at writing as I look at running its hard and when its over I am glad its done. I consider  writing one of my greatest personal challenges, I have struggled with it in the past and will continue to struggle through this class. Although my writing has improved I expect it will always be a challenge.</p>
<p>4. My experience of writing is only been what has been required by my teachers. I took AP english my senior year. This was my hardest class. I wrote more essays in this one class then I did in my entire  high school career. I feel like I improved during that time but it was unpleasant. I hope you will understand my difficulties  and help me to further my writing. If you can give me as much feedback as possible that would be great. I am here to learn.</p>
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