Alyssa Iannotti Art of The Moving Image Narrative Essay November 28‚ 2007 The Butterfly Effect Narrative form is simply “a type of filmic organization in which the parts relate to one another through a series of casually related events taking place in time and space.” Narration usually occurs in a cause-effect relationship. There are many factors of narration but range and depth are the most important. The range refers to how much we know in the plot. Range connects characters and
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“Get out!” she screamed annoyed‚ but with hesitation‚ as I tried to go into the bedroom. It was Memorial Day weekend and we went to St. George Island. She was infatuated with the beach‚ but this time all she did was lay in bed with her laptop; someone who is usually exhilarated about the beach‚ only wanted to stay by herself. I had been living with Kim and my dad for two years. Kim was my father’s new wife. The two of them were married for around 5 years and had a daughter together‚ Brianna‚ who
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My experience with Hawaii was primarily with its beauty and its epic underwater scenery. However‚ there is another side to Hawaii. While there‚ I had an unexpected and dangerous encounter with nature itself‚ which was both frightening and awe inspiring. My battle with the elements shed light on the importance of being able to rely on those closest to you. It also taught me that we must always respect the power that nature possesses. That summer I was going into my third year of elementary school
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As a child I dreamt of the day I would get married‚ start a family‚ buy a home and have lots of money. I felt so foolish as I began to get older and realized that that wasn’t the hand I was dealt‚ that was not my reality. Now‚ I find myself homeless and without hope and all I can think is‚ “No one said life was easy.” As I start packing my tiny one-bedroom apartment where my family and I lived‚ I could not help but feel the anxiety building‚ unsure of what will come after we make this lengthy trip
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I leaned toward the window where my pillow was pressed against the car door. I watched the lightning a few miles to away from the car as it lit up the mountains. Compass by Zella Day played through my headphones as I sat up to look through the windshield. I took my headphones out and my friend/cousin‚ Amaya‚ sat up excitedly in her seat. It was the first time she’d ever taken this trip. The city lights below sparkled. Amaya’s mom‚ JoAnn‚ and our uncle Bill played songs from “their time” as we drove
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of 2007‚ and my parents thought that it would be a brilliant idea to go on a family road trip to some unknown location. This was the summer before I started high school and I wasn’t in the family bonding mood for a day let alone two weeks. With me being an only child‚ grandchild‚ and great grandchild‚ I was the only kid with five adults in a minivan. Why my parents thought that this was a good idea is still beyond my imagination. The trip started off like any other hectic family vacation‚ full
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A Day In 4th Grade It was 4th grade at Collins Elementary as I walked down the hall that morning. Outside‚ the sky was clear and there were puffs of white clouds floating all around‚ the sun was shining as bright as it could‚ and I thought today would be a good day. I made my way to my usual spot on the floor‚ underneath the huge window near the third grade bathrooms‚ a few floor tiles away from the big trash can. I was sliding down the wall to sit when they surrounded me. What they want coming
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I grew up in a Mexican household filled with family‚ love‚ and warm greetings. We had many traditions within our family. I didn’t always feel like I belonged sometimes or that I was missing something. It could have been that I don’t speak Spanish as well as the rest of my family does or maybe I haven’t visited Mexico as much as they have. The traditions and culture are what brought us close together. We had family get togethers what seemed like every weekend‚ In reality it is more like every month
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Orelia Marie Degraffenaried‚ she is my grandmother. I called her Ms. Pat. I honestly don’t know where “Pat” came from. I remember hearing someone call her Patricia and ever since then I’ve called her Ms. Pat. I love everything about my grandmother‚ moreover‚ she’s my favorite person in the whole world. When I found out she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s‚ my heart broke into a million pieces. It all started after my aunt’s death. My aunt was handicapped and my grandmother was her caregiver. She’s
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MYP4 Midnight‚ 14 June 2012. I was awake in my bed‚ excited or maybe depressed. I did not know. The night seemed weird‚ because it was much darker than before and I heard the owls hoot louder. They seemed hungry. Hungry for meat and for love. Every time I closed my eyes‚ I would see a thin light pass by and I opened it at my highest to identify what it was. I missed it each time. What was it? When sunrise grew closer‚ I heard weird thuds that pierced my ear deeply. What on earth was it? Was it somebody
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