Dania
Saturday, May 2, 2009
WA7 final
Sunday, April 26, 2009
WA~7
Sunday, March 29, 2009
WA 6 Final
I was only seven when I figured out exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up. My family was visiting my cousins who were hosting our fourth annual family reunion in Pennsylvania. I was excited to see my cousin Jay who was the athlete in the family. In addition to being the MVP of his basketball team back home, he was a musician and today he was providing some entertainment for the special get-together. He played a couple of songs, of course I didn’t know what they were at the time. Afterwards, however I remember my mouth dropping to my feet when I saw his fingers doing the quick step up and down the finger board. When he finished playing, the whole family cheered. I remember wishing I was the one up there, everyone clapping for me.
When we were on our way home to upstate New York, the very next day, I mentioned that I had a new passion to my dad. I begged him for a guitar of my own. He kept saying no, that it was unnecessary and that I would get sick of it with in a month. He did not have me convinced so I kept begging until he finally agreed to get me a guitar for my birthday if I behaved until then. That was good enough for me, after the long hours of begging. So I would have to be a good boy for 10 only day. It wouldn’t be too bad, definitely worth it.
My birthday came around, and, soon enough, I had my very own guitar. My father helped me tune it and bought me a “Teach Yourself Guitar” book. I sat down that day for over six hours, running my fingers up and down the board, trying to figure out which position made what noise. I had already been able to read music notes since I had been playing the piano for three years so it came down to memorizing notes and chords.
There was never a single day after my eight birthday that I put the guitar down. I played all the time and I learned how to play almost all the classics on my dad's computer and using a site. When I got to high school, I had already decided I wanted to be a musician so what was the point? I dropped out as soon as I could to become a musician. I wanted, more than anything, to make it in the business though I knew it would be hard. I had another cousin in New York city so I decided to live with him until I could find a job and pay my own rent.
Little did I knew, the music business was about ten times harder to make than I had thought. I played show after show in little clubs, but every time I met a producer, he told me I wasn't strong enough to make it, that I was too young, too inexperienced and not what they were looking for. I changed my sound around and still, nothing. I was forced to leave my cousins apartment when her boyfriend moved in. I applied for any, and every job I could find but was denied every single one for my lack of a high school education. I guess I didn't think that one through when I decided high school was unnecessary since I was convinced people went to high school to decide what they would be. I still had no job so I ended up with out any place to live and only a couple friends. I stayed with my friends until they kicked me out after three month of my skipping out on paying my share of the rent. I was forced to live on the street.
I thought about moving back home, but a) I had no money to buy a train ticket back and b) I couldn't show my parents that I had dropped out of high school to become a failure. It was a hard life on the streets. I was cold at night and my clothes were deteriorating quickly. The rain left smelly, moldy spots on my back. I moved from shelter to shelter but they were very crowded, not any better than the extra long bench on 13th street. I was forced to sell my guitar. This was probably the hardest day of my life. I couldn't help thinking that my whole past would be traded for a new outfit and a week's worth of food. That was the day I lost my identity. I had nothing to define me anymore. No friends, or family or anything to show for. I was a homeless man and I had to get used to it.
There is no happy ending to this story, in fact no ending. My life continued like this, in the dump. I say that in an almost literal tone. This is merely a warning to anyone who is reading. It can be harder than you think, to become a musician. In fact, I don't recommend it at all, not the way I reached for my dreams anyway. I recommend staying in school and keeping a well-rounded relationship with family. Think about your future before you live it.
Monday, March 23, 2009
WA-6
"Get out!" she said, her tone angry and anxious. "I never want to see you again. You messed up. It's time for you to pay the price." I remember it clearly. She left me. It was not my fault for liking another woman but I was responsible for the affair but it was over, and no matter how many times I apologized, she never forgave me. I didn't blame her for not wanting to see me again, so I did as she pleased and left. This was a year ago, a year from the dirty streets and creaky cart.
I didn't ask for money or a place to live. She had earned all the support for our family and I didn't deserve any of the life we made together. I was laid off at work when my company shut down and I didn't bother to get a job afterwards. I regret that too. Now I have nothing but a cart I roll along with me in the streets of the Bronx. I could not afford an apartment and it was hard to get a job so I traveled from shelter to shelter looking for nothing but warm soup, some rest and maybe a few friends here and there.
I had lots of time on my hands, to think, to read, to wander aimlessly through life, or what was left of it anyways. I went to the library almost every day and each time read a book from a different shelf. Today I was in the romance section. I found a book entitled Love Story, it was the same as the movie, my wife and my favorite movie of all time. It was about two young college students. They love each other a great deal but went through many highs and lows during their relationship. The girl was sick and died but he still loved her and they make it through till the end, together. One line, however stood out. “Love means never having to say you're sorry.” How can this be, I asked. Would anyone believe such a lie to be true? I love my wife. I never go a day with out thinking of her. I had some regrets but I decided to find out if she still loved me. No one could make a movie with false script.
I stepped back to take a cold hard look at the new life I had created. It was filled with cheap food and old clothes on my back. My wife, she was my everything. She completed me, made me who I was and now that I didn't have her, my life was a wreck. Half of me was gone, all because of a stupid mistake. As soon as I gathered enough money, after weeks of begging on the street, I bought a bus ticket up to northern New York where my life was living.
When I got back to my hometown, I walked to the house we had lived in together a year ago. I knocked and immediately took position 5 steps from the door. I was nervous about seeing her again. What would she think, do, say? She opened the door and took a look at me. She checked me up and down for signs, information as to why I was there. I smiled hesitantly and shrugged. All of a sudden, a tear fell to the ground from the tip of her nose. She had her eyes planted on the ground at her feet. I stood for a minute and started to turn towards the street. I knew she didn't want me here. I looked back as I was leaving and she was lifting her face. Her mouth dropped a little as if she was going to say something, but nothing came out. I stopped just to watch. She was beautiful, prettier than I remember and her eyes twinkled in the sunlight more than her now-damp cheeks. She closed her mouth and again opened it but this time the words came out. “Love means never having to say you're sorry.” At that moment, my mouth dropped lower than hers. I hesitated for a second but then we both started moving forward. I grabbed her shoulders and pressed her body into my chest. Now more than ever, I realized what exactly love meant and I couldn't possibly think why I could ever deny such a beauty between my wife and me.
Monday, March 2, 2009
WA5
Sunday, February 22, 2009
WA~5 Wedding: bride
Monday, February 16, 2009
WA~5 Wedding
Friday, January 30, 2009
WA-4 Final Draft Obama letter
Sunday, January 25, 2009
WA 4 Obama Letter Second Draft
Congratulations on becoming the President of the United States of America. Change has already begun with your new position.
I am writing to you concerning issues we, as a country, are facing today. We are in the middle of a war and now must also fix the economy which has gone downhill in the last decade. Millions have lost their jobs and will continue to do so if we do not start fixing this problem soon. It's going to take a while but it's better to try now than to lift ourselves from a bigger hole in the future. I think this is the biggest issue today along with the war in Iraq and the war on terror. The wars that are now going on are not doing anything to help us. We are trying to help Iraq? Most don’t want us there. We are so worried about money yet are spending millions on Iraq. We need to focus on making ourselves happy just as much as we need to focus on making peace with other countries. That itself will help in the war against terror. Every little effort we make can lead to solving bigger issues. You must do what you think is right and what you think will make the people happy, though the majority thoughts of people now may be the minority in the future.
Another big issue is education. What kids learn in school leads to the future of this country. The future president of the United States is now in school, learning about our country, learning from experiences that may affect the world in 20 years. School is very important and needs to focused on with great care but No Child Left Behind is not the way to do it. This plan has led to simplified classes. It has caused teachers to teach below their potential and students to learn below their potential as well. Mere facts we memorize are not going to help in the future as well as application along with the facts we learn. If you went into a class today and asked the kids why they are learning what it is that they are learning, most likely they would not have a respectable answer besides that the material is on a test they must pass. Students need to know why they are learning and how it will help them in the future. WE are preparing students for jobs that do not even exist yet. It’s very important for kids to learn as much as possible about every possible subject. Nintendo spends more money on research and development than the U.S. Federal Government spends on research and innovation in education.
Your presidency will be one of the most important in history. A lot is expected from you after the last presidency and simple steps can help you achieve what you’ve been preaching. What you accomplish will help make or break this country in the long run. We all know that it will not be easy to fix what has already been done to the economy and the people, but the next year is crucial in beginning the process of rebuilding the United States of America. I am proud to live in such a wonderful place and unbelievably lucky to have the opportunities that I have. It would be a shame to see it go in the next few years. I am looking forward to a positive year and I hope to see some changes for the better.
Thank You,
Dania Jazouli
Monday, January 19, 2009
WA-4 Rough Draft Obama Letter
Sunday, December 7, 2008
WA-3 Final: What About Peace?
"War is unavoidable and unpredictable. It is a devastatingly bitter event that occurs when any sort of uprising occurs from conflict," I read. I read the words, unaware of their actual meaning. I couldn't concentrate on anything more than the typed letters on my paper and the curious look on my teacher's face. As I read my essay, the tension in my muscles began to ease. I finally finished my paper and the class began to clap as I headed towards my seat.
"Hold on, Janie," my teacher said as the clapping seized. "I have a question for you before you take a seat. If war is unpredictable, then what about peace?"
I froze...What about peace? I repeated his words over and over in my head. There was nothing in my paper about peace. I gave no thought to peace when I was writing my essay. What was I supposed to say?
I finally opened my mouth, ready to say the first thing that popped to my mind. "Peace....Peace is well, Peace is glory. Peace is beauty. Peace is rare and must be treasured." I was unsure of my words as they came from my frightened mouth. I looked over at my teacher. He nodded and I took my seat.
I flowed through the rest of the school day, only thinking of my teacher’s question. "What about peace?" In history, we had been talking about the science of war. I came to a conclusion that it was part of the human race to disagree and to fight. I wrote this in my essay. I was right about one thing but my teacher’s question still made my mind spin with thoughts about peace. It had a different meaning, a different significance now, but what was it? Could something so terrible lead to something so wonderful? If war was avoidable and simply did not exist, then peace would not exist. If there was no war and there was always peace, then is it really peace? I thought about that for a little while before deciding what exactly I believed. Without war, we can never have peace.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
WA-3 Second Draft: What About Peace?
"War is unavoidable and unpredictable. It is a devastatingly bitter event that occurs when any sort of uprising occurs from conflict," I read. I read the words, unaware of their actual meaning. I couldn't concentrate on anything more than the typed letters on my paper and the curious look on my teacher's face. As I read my essay, the tension in my muscles began to ease. I finally finished my paper and the class began to clap as I headed towards my seat.
"Hold on, Janie," my teacher said as the clapping seized. "I have a question for you before you take a seat. If war is unpredictable, then what about peace?"
I froze...What about peace? I repeated his words over and over in my head. There was nothing in my paper about peace. I gave no thought to peace when I was writing my essay. What was I supposed to say?
I finally opened my mouth, ready to say the first thing that popped to my mind. "Peace....Peace is well, Peace is glory. Peace is beauty. Peace is rare and must be treasured." I was unsure of my words as they came from my frightened mouth. I looked over at my teacher. He nodded and I took my seat.
I flowed through the rest of the school day, only thinking of my teacher’s question. "What about peace?" In history, we had been talking about the science of war. I came to a conclusion that it was part of the human race to disagree and to fight. I wrote this in my essay. I was right about one thing but my teacher’s question still made my mind spin with thoughts about peace. It had a different meaning, a different significance now, but what was it? Could something so terrible lead to something so wonderful? If war was avoidable and simply did not exist, then peace would not exist. How could there be peace with no war? If there was no war and there was always peace, then is it really peace? I thought about that for a little while before deciding what exactly I believed. War defines peace.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
WA-3 What About Peace?
"War is unavoidable and unpredictable. It is a devastatingly bitter event that occurs when any sort of uprising occurs from conflict," I read. I read the words, unaware of their actual meaning. I couldn't concentrate on anything more than the typed letters on my paper and the curious look on my teacher's face. As I read my essay, the tension in my muscles began to ease. I finally finished my paper and the class began to clap as I headed towards my seat.
"Hold on, Janie," my teacher said as the clapping seized. "I have a question for you before you take a seat. If war is unpredictable, then what about peace?"
I froze...What about peace? I repeated his words over and over in my head. There was nothing in my paper about peace. I gave no thought to peace when I was writing my essay. What was I supposed to say?
I finally opened my mouth, ready to say the first thing that popped to my mind. "Peace....Peace is well, Peace is glory. Peace is beauty. Peace is rare and must be treasured." I was unsure of my words as they came from my frightened mouth. I looked over at my teacher. He nodded and I took my seat.
I flowed through the rest of the school day, only thinking of my teachers question. "What about peace?" In history, we had been talking about the science of war. I came to a conclusion that it was part of the human race to disagree and to fight. This made me rethink all my previous knowledge of peace. If war was avoidable and simply did not exist, then peace would not exist. I thought about that for a little while before deciding that that was what I thought about peace. Peace is wonderful and filled with hope, but peace is because war is.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
WA-2 Final (Character and Setting)
Passerby’s ears turned to search for the sweet sound of the tune bouncing around the trees and gardens filled with white daisies and colorful flowers. A couple cuddling in the bench across the wide sidewalk watched as a small crowd gathered around to listen. They whispered to one another, one talking and pointing, the other nodding.
Do they hate my music?...Ace thought as he watched a small boy place a bill in the case lying beside his right leg. Another lady walked up and he heard coins hitting the smooth black velvet in his case. Clink-a-clunk. He thought again, I hope not. He began to sing. A soft tune flowed from his mouth, like the sweet song of a hummingbird fluttering in the nearby trees. He continued playing. A larger crowd had gathered to watch. All eyes were on Ace but he didn't let that get to him. He kept strumming and singing. His heart raced as still more people gathered. He spoke, "Thank you", when a break in the verses came and as more people dropped money into the open mouth of his case.
Ace looked into the crowd again to see some one pushing his way to the front. It was a round man, with broad shoulders and a rough face. He wore gasses framed with thick black. He watched Ace with beaming eyes till he finished his song. "That was great. Good going, kid." Ace paused, surprised at the man's comment. Ace had never played in the park before. He didn't expect such a crowd. The man spoke again. "I'm from International Records on 6th and Main. I would love if you stopped by some time. Just ask for Johnny Rehnolds." The man handed over a small card. Ace rubbed his thumb over the man's name, number, and the outline of a black globe. It had a large ‘I’ in the center with ‘International Records’ written under it. Ace was still in shock as he packed the lucky guitar into his case.
He gathered the money, shoving it into his pocket. It would take too long to count all the coins in the park so he raced out of the gate, which made a break in the low stone walls that outlined the park's edge. He walked quickly into the racing traffic of rush hour. He dodged cars as he ignored the lights over the crosswalks that signaled pedestrians to cross by showing the white lit man in a half running position. Car honks flew at Ace like an eagle grabbing its prey. But still he continued. He hurried home. A smile was planted across his face from nearly ear to ear. It never left his face as he anxiously practiced a new song to play in the park tomorrow.
This was only the beginning.
Monday, October 13, 2008
WA-2 Second Draft (Character and Setting)
Passerby's ears turned to search for the sweet sound of the tune and bouncing around the trees and off the couples sitting on the benches. A small crowd gathered around to listen. They whispered to one another, one talking and pointing, the other nodding.
Do they hate my music?...Ace thought as he watched a small boy place a bill in the case lying beside his right leg. Another lady walked up and he heard coins hitting the smooth black velvet in his case. Clink-a-clunk. He thought again, I hope not. He began to sing. A soft tune flowed from his mouth, like music flowing off a page. He continued playing. A larger crowd had gathered to watch. All eyes were on Ace but he didn't let that get to him. He kept strumming and singing. His heart raced as still more people gathered. He spoke, "Thank you", when a break in the verses came and as more people dropped money into the open mouth of his case.
Ace looked into the crowd again to see some one pushing his way to the front. It was a round man, with broad shoulders and a rough face. He wore gasses framed with thick black. He watched Ace with beaming eyes till he finished his song. "That was great. Good going, kid." Ace paused, surprised at the man's comment. Ace had never played in the park before. He didn't expect such a crowd. The man spoke again. "I'm from International Records on 6th and Main. I would love if you passed by. Just ask for Johnny Rehnolds." The man handed over a small card. Ace rubbed his thumb over the man's name, number, and the outline of a black globe. It had a large ‘I’ in the center with ‘International Records’ written under it. Ace was still in shock as he packed the lucky guitar into his case.
He gathered the money, shoving it into his pocket. It would take to long to count all the coins in the park so he raced out of the gate, which made a break in the low stone walls that outlined the park's edge. He walked quickly into the racing traffic of rush hour. He dodged cars as he ignored the lights over the crosswalks that signaled pedestrians to cross by showing the white lit man in a half running position. Car honks flew at Ace like an eagle grabbing its prey. But still he continued. He hurried home. A smile was planted across his face from nearly ear to ear. It never left his face as he anxiously practiced a new song to play in the park tomorrow.
This was only the beginning.