I can’t move without a plant touching my skin. Everything I loved about this rainforest just this morning is elevating my heart rate and killing my logical thinking capacity. The sheer denseness of the foliage had made me feel cozied‚ like in all this space I could still be snug. The thousands of noises had crashed over me as refreshing as any waterfall‚ overriding my senses and setting my brain to the same chemical soup it was in when I first fell in love. In that cocktail of endorphins‚ I have
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selected from the series‚ “The days we were happy” display images of a television‚ a woman cooking‚ and an old man. The three specific photographs are captured in an old and ripped photograph. Nobuyoshi Araki most certainly comments on the idea of memory as the title‚ “The days we were happy” is obviously talking about the past. All the photographs are black and white‚ therefore stressing the fact that these images are old and from the past. The first image that will be discussed is the television
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the best time of year‚ the fourth thursday of November‚ Thanksgiving. The holiday means so much to me as the traditions my family hold have been passed down from generation to generation. There is something symbolic about thanksgiving and the memories I carry from previous year’s celebrations. Every year as I walk up the stairs and through the door into my grandparent’s house‚ flashbacks to previous year’s celebrations fill my mind. Immediately following entering my grandparent’s back door
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Personal health is something that everyone needs to be concerned with‚ but not many people are. I’ve noticed that in the recent months‚ my personal health has not been what it used to be. I’ve only come to this conclusion after starting to track a few health aspects in my life. The aspects of my personal health that I chose to track for a month includes nutrition‚ physical health issues‚ and alcohol use. I chose to track these three specific parts of my personal health because they are the most
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Intimately connecting herself to the environment in Horse Lick Creek‚ Kingsolver uses personal memories to both affix herself in nature and to elaborate upon her desire to protect it. In her work‚ “The Memory Palace‚” Kingsolver tells of her own experience with her environment and how her childhood in the woods altered and benefitted her sense of self in the world. Initially‚ she recollects upon her personal experience‚ painting for her readers a picture of the way a child views nature‚ magical
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“Ugly” is something I said I would refrain from during my campaign for office. I’m going to hold true to that through the election and afterwards‚ win or lose. My reasoning for that is; I know whoever is elected must move forward and serve the citizens‚ regardless of what happens during the campaign‚ whether that be me or one of my opponents. It is a hard enough job with the amount of hatred already surrounding police officers. Adding insult to injury is bad for our community. Tough questions have
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I learned a great deal from watching the Willowbrook video and discussing the Christmas in Purgatory book. One of the most interesting things I discovered was how recent the events we saw and talked about actually happened. I had not realized that the kinds of inhumane images we saw had only happened less than 50 years ago. It was hard for me to believe that other people‚ who were not in the same position as those who had to give up their children and loved ones and send them away‚ could just turn
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Personal background starts off small‚ it changes and grows over time into something big‚ it grows into an identity. Walking down the hallway at school‚ seeing someone standing alone‚ my first instinct is to make conversation‚ compliment‚ or even just smile at him or her. This instinct came from someone once telling me an act so small could turn a person’s entire life around. As a kid‚ reading encyclopedias about random topics‚ consumed my time. Many days were spent coming home to find an injured
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everyone who met her loved her. With her we went garage saleing; we also spent a lot of time camping‚ and I went to her house. I played with my cousins‚ and loved to be in the hot tub. On rainy days‚ we do crafts‚ or play board games inside. On every Christmas Eve we would all get together‚ and she would put together games‚ and crafts for us to do. We also told stories‚ and sing songs. One year she got cancer‚ in her liver. She was also 80 some years old at the time. She was also a fighter; she fought
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disorganized and miscellaneous items. My father filled two of the rooms with unneccasary items‚ which decrease the value of the home. I felt proud to call my house my home. However‚ feelings change all the time. Every object in the house holds a memory. The times my whole family gathered in the swimming pool on a hot summer’s day‚ laughing and listening to music. When I sat on the old brown leather couch the day my dog came home for the first time. The time I performed a handstand against the wall
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