AMER1C9N HI2T0RY - passion project 2018

Bugsy Malone was set in New York 1920s where gangs are relevant in society. The ambience of an American city back in the 1920s is busy yet calm. 1920 infrastructure already comprised of improved standards in residential homes and also the proliferation of the skyscrapers for commercial buildings.
It was during the 1920s the politicians of the industry wanted to upgrade the low-cost housing standards and make it more affordable.

 The 1920s had a well-known set of fashion designer namely: Gabrielle Chanelle, Jean Lanvin, Jean Patou and etc., the 1920s trends were more on drop waist dresses. with a loose f7it, mary jane heels and bobbed haircuts. Muted and pastel palettes were very popular in that era and women didn't go out showing their bare legs, they wear stockings especially when they're in their flapper costumes. Men had always worn a suit, only with different collars during occasions. The suits are mostly made of wool, and jackets are either single or double breasted. Men's pants had always been high waist with a flat front, and usually narrowly fit in the early 1920s. It's also usually held up with suspenders. 1920s shirts were also sewn in vertical stripes with a mixture of colours. Most of the shirts either had attached collars or had a detachable one.

In the 1920s, women are already allowed to vote and have a stable career for themselves. This era has been called as the roaring twenties because of economic prosperity, social, artistic, and cultural dynamism. The women were given the name of "flappers" meaning women were bolder and had more freedom in the clothing and mannerisms. Marriage was also a priority for most people, yet family life had few children. There was a job in the 1920s where individuals are called "knocker uppers" whose job is to wake up other workers. For women, seamstressing is a job where you put up together flappers for female partygoers.


In the 1920s, the Americans received more disposable income for their entertainment. Movie and sports became more popular during this decade. Moving pictures or cinema became a big part of the early decade. During the 1920s, radios have already been a common feature in American homes. Audiences enjoyed team sports, mainly baseball. Children also enjoyed a variety of activities such as checkers, jacks, and dominoes. Girls played with toy sewing machines and Raggedy Ann dolls. Wind up toys and tinkertoys were also popular back then.

music - performing arts

What has been your favourite project this year and why?
- I haven't been in this school for a while, so I haven't done many projects. This music performance, was my first performance so I hope I did well with it.

What have you found challenging about music this year?
- As mentioned, I haven't been here for a long time. Being able to perform this term was my first time and I think the challenging part about it singing in front of the audience. Not that I haven't performed in front, but I haven't sung with an audience for a little while now.

 What advice would you give to the Year 10 students 2019?
- If you're taking music, you better be sure that you joined in this class because it is your passion. Even if it is not your passion, but at least have the determination to at least learn one piece in the class. The music industry is beautiful, it's not bad to give this phase a shot.

Goals for 2019.
- Better vocal and breathing techniques, fight stage fright and hopefully have more opportunities to perform.

music performance evaluation.

What did you perform?
 - I performed Liza Soberano's Spark with a guitar.

With who? on your own?
- I performed on my own.

Why did you choose that performance?
- I've been singing that song for two years now, it holds a sentimental value whenever I sing it. It wasn't because of the lyrics but because it was a song used as my former class' presentation for our prom night in ninth grade (or year 9 here). We had a very strong bond, so this song means a lot to me and I performed it because I can sing it with enough emotions needed for that song.

Were you happy with your performance? Why?
 - In all honesty, I wasn't. For a little while now I've noticed how fragile my voice becomes whenever I sing in front of a number of people. Back in ninth grade, I lost my confidence in reaching high notes because my voiced cracked during the singing contest. After that, my technique hasn't gotten any better and whenever I try to sing in front of an audience, my voice gets weak. I didn't like this performance because I've gotten unstable during the middle part and how bad my sustain is due probably because of my wrong breathing technique.

If you could perform again, what would you change?
- I would love to perform with a better vocal and breathing technique. I've been tensing and straining a lot so I would love to improve those parts.

video game character gone rogue

I haven't finished this game for ages already, but I guess I have the time to continue it with a different route. They seem to be aware of their surrounding, breaking the fourth wall at every opportunity they find. He's trying me to not to take this path. Genocide run, this game's path wherein you kill all of the monsters in Mt. Ebott possible.  I know he is aware of I took this route, I killed Toriel on my first encounter. I killed everyone I encountered in this run: his brother, his friends, his company. 'If you keep going the way you are now... you're gonna have a bad time.' He already warned me. They already recognised me as the first human.  They begged for me to spare their lives, but I didn't.

"i t' s  a  b e a u t i f u l  d a y  o u t s i d e . "
"b i r d s  a r e  s i n g i n g, f l o w e r s  a r e  b l o o m i n g. "
" o n  d a y s  l i k e  t h e s e, k i d  s  l i k e  y o u  s h o u l d  b e . . . "

It was too fast for me to catch up. His beams are everywhere.

"Heya, you've been busy huh?" He was facing me. He suddenly paused for a while. "So I've got a question for ya." I kept the silence to make him continue, he knew I was paying close attention. "Do you think even the worst person can change...? That everyone can be a good person if they just try?" he chuckled. "All right... Well here's a better question." I know that grin he makes, it's the usual grin you see from him everyday but this time the vibe in him changed. "Do you wanna have a bad time?"
I knew it. "because if you take another step forward... you are REALLY not going to like what happens next." I came this far for this run, I spared no one in the path. I didn't feel any mercy.

I took a step forward.

"Welp... Sorry, old lady." The game's about to start.

"this is why I never make promises."

edit that.

I've been in a bad reading slump and I thought this book would be perfect to end it. Written by David Levithan, in what seemed to me a style almost like poetry and with photographs, what could go wrong? Well, as short as the book was, it took me almost a month to get through it. It didn't grab me or captivate me in any way. I found the story to be just flat. The main character was the only one that seemed to show a bit more depth, but I still couldn't connect or find myself to care for any of these characters. The crossed-over bits became almost annoying, having whole pages of text crossed-over did not appeal to me. 
Also, in the acknowledgments, the author explains that he would write the story as the photos were sent to him, he would basically write a piece of the story for every photo he received at any given moment. And that showed in the final product, because you could feel some parts were disconnected or even unecessary.
The ending just left me completely unsatisfied. A "Is that it?" kinda feeling. 
Anyway, this book did not work for me. I'll still keep an eye out for David Levithan's other works.

-

I have been in a bad reading slump and I thought this book would be perfect to end it. Written by David Levithan, in what seemed me a style almost like poetry and with photographs, what could go wrong? Well, as short as the book was, it took me almost a month to get through it. It didn't grab me or captivate my attention in any way. I found the story to be just flat. The main character was the only one that seemed to show a bit more depth, but I still couldn't connect or find myself to care for any of these characters. The crossed-over bits became almost annoying, having whole pages of text crossed-over did not appeal me. 
Also, in the acknowledgements, the author explains that he would write the story as the photos were sent to him, he would basically write a piece of the story for every photo he received at any given moment. And that showed in the final product because you could feel some parts were disconnected or even unnecessary.
The ending just left me completely unsatisfied. A "Is that it?" kinda feeling. 
Anyway, this book did not work for me. I'll still keep an eye out for David Levithan's other works.

king of excuses

WHY YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TO DO SPORT


Oh, you shouldn't allow me to do sports.
I don't have a thing with courts.
And it would cause me death,
Because at small movements, I run out of breath.

I am a girl who lived her life as asthmatic.
So I haven't done such things as acrobatics.
My lungs are quite weak.
So I haven't mastered any of the sports' techniques.

four items, one paragraph

I hesitated for a bit, trying to keep my composure. When was the time I last saw him...? I don't remember but it has been a while now. We're about to meet again, hoping that he won't be mad at me for taking a long time to return. I took a deep breath and entered only to be greeted by someone and ask me if I was looking for a specific person. "E-Emiliano Gonzaga." It's been a while since I've said that name. Has it been two years? More? I wasn't so sure. I stuttered, but I could've sworn I never developed a stutter. Was it the hesitation in me that made it happen? "This way, miss." She told me. Tap, tap, tap. Her heels echoed as she walked. Was she even aware of the noise she's making in this very quiet place? No? Then she should. I stopped as she suddenly made a halt and faced her left. "T-thank you..." I stuttered again. It's getting annoying. I swear I don't have a stutter. But it made me think for a moment, was it because I don't have the courage to see him? I mean, I'm here... Just a few exertions of force, I'll see him again. And I did. Behind the door, there he lies. A coffin so white, as white that it probably represented Heaven's colour. Candles about the coffin as if giving emphasis to the bed has laid on. There he is... Hello, granddad. We've met again. They looked at me, not sure whether they're happy to see me or not. I slowly made my way, trying my best to ignore their looks and there he is... in front of me. His face showed peace and calm. I observed his chest in hope that it may rise but to no avail. I tapped the casket. Tap, tap, tap. Yet he remained still. We've met again, but I guess I went a little too late. 

Weather With You

inspired by Shannon Williams' Daybreak Rain.

It was the sound of the rain banging against whatever surface it may find.
The sun was just about to make its way to show itself earlier, but it seemed like it's time for the rain to own the spotlight. She looked out of the window, sighing as if she knows that the weather's been giving sympathy for her. Rain falls as if it wakes the dawn. The bed has been a big bigger for the past few days, and the room has been filled with a deafening silence. She's been sleepless, she hasn't rested her heart and mind. She's tired and her home forgot its job to be her resting place.

Or maybe it's been always a resting place, but only for the physical body.

She remained her back against the soft sheets, where the rain has been the only melancholic melody she's been hearing. Rain... during the daybreak...? It must be a beautiful phenomenon. Her tears fell smoothly, just like the falling water outside. But each drop were silenced by the sea of fabric. She misses him, and it's becoming unbearable.

It's time to get up, but it has only becoming a burden moment by moment. The rain has been giving a beautiful, melancholic and yet monotonous melody. It's keeping her from getting up but she's also wide awake.  She shook her head, wiped the tears. She can't stay like this. She can't stay for long like this.

Look at your telephone. Call him.
No, She can't.
Just hang up quickly.
She mustn't.
He misses you.

It was raining in daybreak.

She called him.

This is my life.

One: They welcomed me in this world.
Two: She held me in her arms, he looked at me with love.
Three: I sung my first melody, I knew where I was supposed to be.
Four: I learned about the world and its wonders, my knowledge about it had never been so beautiful.
Five: He moved away, she took good care of me.
Six: She moved away, I was left alone.
Seven: I fell in love, I was safe in words. Writing did.
Eight: I stood independently, I waited for them.
Nine: They took me. I moved.
Chapter ten: I am still yet to write.

my city is a person.

If my city was a person, she would be loud.

Messy and low maintenance.
A very slow worker.
A show off.

If my city was a person she would be a hypocrite.

She's known to be one of the bests,
With a pleasing personality and an outstanding leadership.
But the people she leads says otherwise.

If my city was a person she would be a high maintenance pyromaniac.
She hated dirt, so she would burn everything down she finds dirty.
She would always use fire to clean everything up.
Fire is beautiful, and she would use fire to make everything beautiful.

If my city was a person, I would call her Chaos.
Chaos would be a great actress.
An artist with fire has her best medium.
Chaotic, fake, beautiful.

Dear Writer's block,

        It's not you, it's me. It has always been me.

I'm sorry for falling out of love, for being in want to be free. I am tired of being held captive by you. I didn't want us continue any more further, knowing that I never have felt I guess it's time for me to point out my mistake? I loved someone else.

I loved someone else, his name is Writing. He was full of ideas, a broad speaker and listener. I guess I fell in love the moment his words in crept to my ears then into my mind. He was good with his words, something that is enough to make my heart beat. Writing made me fall in love with a beauty non-existential to this words unless it was him speaking and showing it. He is beautiful, he is loved by everybody. I adored him so much that I was willing to show him every flaw in me- for he is enough to make it beautiful.

Writing made me beautiful. Writing has made me feel free. While you held me captive from your strong pair of arms, embracing me and never letting me go. But I was suffocated....

I suffocated and forced myself to follow your lead. You loved me in a way you love me but in a way that it made me weak. I'm weak and quiet and you kept yourself dominant. You never lowered your pride, and you never let me escape. Your lips are beautiful but the poison crawled its way in my mouth, refusing me to speak. You sung sinful lullabies and had made me think so much about my flaws and mistakes. You didn't allow me to say 'I love you', not even speak my mind out.

I'm sorry but I can't stand this anymore. I'm sorry that Writing has made me a better person.

I loved you but our stories have to end here.

I'm no controller but every playwright has to end their scripts.
It wasn't blissful while it lasted and it was a nightmare as it continued.

I am happy with Writing now. I hope that you happy for me.

Sincerely,
A flawed writer.

free writing.

I want something else and I’m not sure what to call it and I don’t want to call it ordinary love.

I want us to have fire in our hearts, I want us to burn with so much love.

I want to hold your soul as if it was your hand.

I want to find semblance of peace in your breastbone.

I want to look at you at night like you were a star and hold you in your ribs in the morning.

I want to give you all the attention you deserve.

I want to see you naked but not to see you undressed but to see what you’re passionate about or what is the craziest thing you’ve done.

I don’t want predictable love, I want to have surprises.

I want us to have tattoos of the first morning we woke up together.

I want our memories to hurt me in the future for I don’t want you to leave me but if you need to walk away I will ask you to come back if you’re ready.

I will ask you to bend to be small for the size of my fist just to make sure you won’t get away.

I want extraordinary love, the one that people will be curious about how you came back after leaving so many years without saying goodbye.

I want people to ask us about how did we end up together.

I want you to challenge me how much I love you.

I don’t want us to believe in destiny, if I want to be with you, I will make an effort.

I will love you unconditionally and I will give you endless chances.

I want something else and I’m not sure what to call it.

True love? Great love?

Nau mai, haere mai ki tēnei taonga

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