Assignment 10: David Mazzucchelli's Voice in Asterios Polyp

After doing a little research on Mazzucchelli, I am very interested and inspired by him as an artist and author. Asterios Polyp is extremely well executed, design wise as well as writing wise. This mind blowing, nitty gritty, incredibly intelligent work reflect's its author wholeheartedly in my opinion. I think Mazzucchelli really wanted to break way from collaborating with the traditional comics like Daredevil and Batman, and find his personal voice and project it through his own solo project. He uses his characters to voice his opinions of America, human nature, and the duality that inevitably appears in everyday life.

Assignment 9: Tone and Voice

The term “author’s voice” is usually referring to the author’s personal attitude towards the subject matter they are writing about. “Author’s tone” however is a term describing the mood of the writer, or the mood they want you to feel. For example, a writer can use various voices in his writing (satirical, patronizing, humorous, etc.) but tone is about the bigger picture, what the mood is after reading the words said with their voice. “While voice can be attributed as a writer’s representation of the truth that he depicts, tone can be said to be representation of his feelings or attitudes”(1). Voice can be considered stylistic, and different writers have different and unique voices. Tone however, only describes their mood or feelings

http://www.differencebetween.net/language/difference-between-voice-and-tone/

Assignment 8: Virtual Reality

I did not grow up in a video game household. I had a Nintendo GameBoy, a DS, and a Wii but all I really liked to play were the "girly" games. But boy did I looove those girly games. Nintendogs, Horsez, you name it. If it had a farm and horses in it I was begging my mom to buy it. I loved any sort of RPG where its a girl on a farm doing chores and taking care of animals, probably because I wanted to grow up on a farm really badly. I think it would actually make a pretty neat virtual reality experience, especially for people who live in the city who want to feel what the country is like.

An unexpected tumble,thud, and thump snap your world into view as you gain consciousness of your sleepy body in a heap full of blankets. You’re on your right side facing the wall, shoulder stiff from a deserved night's sleep. You finally roll over to see what made the commotion, but you could already guess. A wet nose, two eyes, and a tongue are waiting to greet you, and a wagging tail knocks over some more stuff from your nightstand. You swing yourself up out of bed, making sure to scratch the ears of the sleeping cat at the food of the bed. Shielding your eyes from the rising sun outside the window, you walk out of your bedroom through to the kitchen, where two more excited dogs are ready to be let outside. You open the screen door to your endless, story-book beautiful farmland. Green grass glowing orange with the bright light of sunrise. Fresh dew sparkling on each blade. Horses whinnying in the background, ready for breakfast. A slight breeze brings the scent of fresh hay and flowers to your nose.

BARK

THUMP

You’re suddenly on the ground, as three dogs race out the door knocking you off your feet.

“Well shit” you sigh, your HP meter just appeared in the upper left corner of your FOV (Field of Vision), and it went down 5 out 100 points.

“Those damn goons knocked me down hard”.

As you make your way inside to prepare the dogs’ breakfast, you daily “TO DO” list materializes on the counter

TO DO TODAY

MORNING CHORES

• feed: dogs, cats, horses, sheep, rabbits
• turn out horses
• give morning hay
• sweep

OTHER

• weed garden
• pick ripe things
• make salsa for Hellen’s Party

As you turn to go out the door and start your day, a blinking icon appears in the top right of your FOV

~HURRICANE WATCH FOR TODAY AND TOMORROW~

“For Christ’s sake, as if I didn’t have enough shit to do today, no I’ve gotta prep for this” you say out loud, half to yourself, half to the cat asleep on top of the refrigerator.
"Oh well, should be fun".

What is your voice? What constitutes your work?

          I like to think my voice is one of a 19 year old girl who is very confused and does her best to take the abstract racing thoughts in her brain into concrete words structured into sentences and whatnot, so that the average human may comprehend mayhem. I tend to be narcissistic, sarcastic, harsh, and sometimes overly poetic. Usually my in my writing I try to make you feel like you're sitting in a room with me, and I am talking to you directly. In my artwork I tend to be softer, prettier, more appealing. I like using pastels and pretty colors, purple, teal, baby blues. I like to draw dogs and paint flowers and stare at clouds, but when I write I like to rip and dig and use a thesaurus and make you think.

PROFESSOR INCOGNITO APOLOGIZES in class assignment

1. Are there any prominent symbols in this story? What are they and how are they used?                There is a lot of reference to the classic superhero and super villain gimmick, with the            costumes, hero names, secret lans and identities. The concept of the main character            working with the Martian is also far fetch and sci-fi/ superhero universe related. Also,            the form of his "apology letter" and all the information given to the girlfriend is very                legal-like,professional, and well thought out 

2. What connections did you make with the story? Discuss the elements of the work with           you were able to connect?
        I really enjoyed the relationship dynamic between the two characters, and the way the           "note" (was it a note?) was written. If I was the girlfriend I would have a lot to think                 about after receiving all that information. I also really like this particular take on the                 whole "super heros/super villains" thing. I thought it was interesting that the narrator             took into account the stereotype of a villain and how he wasn't that at all. This was a             new point of view that I enjoyed, one of a socially adapt super villain who has a                     girlfriend who he loves. The story has me rooting for the bad guy.

3. What changes would you make to adapt this story into another media? What changes           would you make? What medium would you use? 
        I think this story would make an excellent animated movie or series. These type of                 superhero/super villain stories tend to make themselves malleable to a film or series,             because they follow an individual through a personal journey that is fantastic to                     the regular viewer. I think this element, along with the deep personal relationship                   between the two characters would make a relatable yet entertaining series. I for one             want to know more. I want to know what design the girlfriend makes, what the fate of             the world is. Will Professor Incognito be successful? Will he get to live the rest of his             life with the woman he loves? I want to see what his lab looks like, maybe                             a hardworking music montage of him building it over the years. 

Assignment 7: In Response to Junot Diaz's Opinion

          After watching his interview with Seth Myers and reading the article, I openly agree with Junot Diaz. He elegantly explained the importance of the works of people of color and their role in preventing this country and culture from becoming "white -washed". He talked about the crucial factor in writing that brings people together, helps people understand each other: mutual relatable feelings and situations, things we identify with and label "real". Often times other cultures can seem just like stories, or information that is just fed to us. While it might seem hard to go out and truly experience other culture from the comfort of your own couch, it really isn't if you start exploring the works of ethnic authors. After reading the short story "The Book of the Dead" from Dewbreakers, I was able to understand a little bit more about the role of family and religion in Haitian culture, along with the conflict of love for a family member versus moral compas.

Assignment 6: Describe a World You Know

PREFACE

          I will whole-heartedly admit I over thought this assignment, and I had such insane writers block I wanted to break my fingers as an excuse for my lack of material. I went back to an old piece for inspiration, one that I felt could help me make something that fit that prompt. What is my world? Its a constant stream of internal vocal consciousness to be honest. I'm always listening to my own voice in my head, constant, nonstop, questions, worrying, describing, dissecting, over thinking. Its not always a bad thing though, I've finally come to realize that. It's just who I am. Below is my response to this prompt, a littler tangent-y (I apologize). 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have discovered that I am a fast paced person.

I cannot hear the vents creak with the moldy air that fills a classroom. I cannot see the dust fall into delicate piles on a worn out projector. I cannot smell the layers of chalk that line the metal ledge of a blackboard. I cannot feel the sun slightly filtered through windex streaked windows. I only strive to be heard, to have the last word in an unending debate of mixed subjects. I can only try to say as much as I can in the sliver of time allotted to my focus.

“Take a deep breath”, I am always told. “Slow down honey, count to ten”.

Creaky metal tracks ignited sparks along the subway. The car swayed as it moved, snakelike, underneath Cambridge corners. I could smell the tracks of one thousand travelers, and I could feel the fingerprints of all those lonely hands. I could see myself sitting gently on the bench in between two friends. My hair was messy from the city winds, my head was lying on my boyfriend’s shoulder, my eyes were half open in sleepy observance. I kept staring into the window, swallowing the scene around me, savoring every detail. It was like I was watching myself in a movie. There was a quiet that was not dense and not chilling, but simply cool. A cool silence that washed over everyone to cleanse us of our busy days. It set the buzzing thoughts out of our beehive minds. A silence that allowed the fast paced people, in a fast paced world, to simply be still. This calm silence allowed me to stop, slow down, and sit.

I sat. I sat and stared. I stared at myself in the window. Outside was pitch black, my reflection stared back at me. It was only the three of us on that quiet ride and I did what is common to do when caught in silence, I let my mind wander a little too far.

I thought about myself and life. I thought about how life has always been a little bit of confusion and frustration. Most people spend their lives trying to capture some sort of correct answer for everything. Maybe it’s because I’m stubborn, and I don't like being uninformed or not knowing everything, but it always bothers me that I don’t really know who I am yet. Constantly contradicting myself, surprising myself, unlocking parts of me I didn’t even know had a door. This is frustrating because we are supposed to know who we are as individuals, but we keep contradicting and surprising ourselves.  

The way I see it, humanity is constantly searching, digging around for trends to follow, genres to sort, and adjectives to assign. We like to make things belong, give everything a concrete category, to understand what things are. So is it crazy for me to think that there is this feeling in the back of our skulls, that aches to define each and every one of us? I think about this every day, it drives me mad. The irony of this is that every time is think about it, I discover a new piece of myself. Everyday I grow a little more insane, and it brings me closer to figuring out who I really am.

The subway slowed; the silence was broken by a thud, a screech, a muffled announcement from the driver. Instantly, I was ripped from my sedation, back into reality. Everything moved at once, but sequentially still in slow motion: I was trying to grab hold of the peace I had with reality for that short train ride. I gathered myself and grabbed my boyfriend’s hand, dragging him into the parking lot back to my car. My voice echoed in the garage, reviewing our exciting day in loud, excited sentences. I was back the sporadic version of myself. Starting my car, the volume filled the lot. The radio blasted a thick slow bass, layered with an insane eclectic guitar solo.