May Blog Writers!!!!!

The time has come for this is our last set of writers for the 2019-2020 school year.  As I am writing this final entry, I feel a wealth of emotions that include solace, comfort, hope, bitterness, sweetness, longing and empathy.

Firstly, I want to congratulate the Class of 2020.  You are a remarkable group of young people.  Even though our face-to-face time was cut way too soon, I know that this is not the end.  It never is.  This is truly just the beginning of a new direction and path in your journey.

Secondly, There is a total of eight submissions for this month.  Take the time to read all of them.  Your comments are due Thursday, May 14th.

If you are a writer, you do not need to leave comments, only if you wish to do so.

Lastly,  Don't forget to come back here to visit this blog.  You are a part of this legacy for it holds a piece of you.  A piece of you, that during this time, your friends and family, teachers, acquaintances, coaches and counselors are and were a vital part of your life.  Don't forget that.  I know that we will see each other again.  I don't know when that will be, but I am hopeful.  The unknown is scary.  We never want to think about it.  But, I am hopeful that our paths will cross.  We have already shared memories and experiences and they are here, archived in writing.

Thank you for being a part of my life.  Find comfort in the things that remind you of who you are.  Be good to yourself, always. 

Feed Your Soul,

Mrs. Solano

“Pandemic”--Andrew

You were wrong.

You were wrong to sacrifice hours of essential study for the sake of that unnecessary afternoon nap. You were wrong to excuse yourself from your last period because the subject matter of your upcoming test had failed to spark your interest from the very first lesson. You were wrong to assign blame to your math teacher upon your realization that one Thursday night that derivatives were not your forte. They were not the best of times, but perhaps you were wrong when you identified this pattern of behavior as a hatred for your time in school. You know that now.

As the difficulty of your new reality away from social interaction settled in your mind, the daily campus experiences you once held such disdain for became not a greater annoyance but a subject of nostalgia; they were no longer thorns in your side but rather petals on the ground in their place. Your impatience with that group of underclassmen that consistently chose to walk in the middle of the hallway now felt like the silliest, most trivial of worries. You often expressed frustration with the passion your teachers expressed for the linguistic nightmare of Shakespearean English, for you never saw what was so captivating about saying everything with more syllables and combining words that had no business being combined. But as you sat in your room starved of dialogue, those long sentences suddenly struck you as thought-provoking, gorgeously articulate pieces of poetry. The quiet walls of the home you once found comfort in were no longer an escape but a prison, no longer a place of rest but a tunnel to which you could see no exit.

As subjective and difficult to navigate as the topic may be, our current circumstances have instilled in me an urge to provide a general definition of life, and the purpose thereof. Life isn’t defined by the comfort you achieve in the absence of adversity. That is, there is no meaning in pleasure when there is nothing to the contrary. You once valued Saturdays because it meant you had gotten through a week of schoolwork. You once valued your time alone because it was a break from well-intentioned but draining interaction with your peers. But what value is there in solitude when you know no company? It was this question that reminded me of what seems to be our overarching goal as human beings: to chase that which tells us our difficulties were worth our time. Author and motivational speaker Simon Sinek noted that our opportunity amidst these unprecedented circumstances is “what ​will w​ e be, not how are we to preserve what we had.” As the life we once knew becomes foreign to us, we will progress not by looking to adapt the environment to ourselves but by adapting ourselves to the environment. The most immovable, constant obstacle in life is not as much a physical entity as it is a simple understanding that conflict and difficulty are prevalent, evolving forces that follow us wherever we go. In the same way that musical disarray teaches us to value harmony, it is the struggles of life that teach us to 

value comfort. Jim Carrey observed in a 2014 commencement address that we tend to “choose our path out of fear disguised as practicality.” I cannot tell you what your specific, individual purpose on this planet is, but I can say with confidence that you have more to gain from accepting life’s challenges than from avoiding them for fear of inconvenience.

All things considered, it was never that final goodbye you were robbed of that would serve as a testament to the hardships you lived through for the last four years. Life was never a matter of predictable, scheduled recognition in the way your graduation ceremony should have been, for it is a journey that creates itself not on the basis of fairness or deservedness but on the basis of immediate circumstance. As you stand alone in your mirror in the cap and gown you never got to wear, take comfort in knowing that your success lies not in the opportunity to walk across the stage but in knowing that somewhere nearby, regardless of physical separation, the classmates you first walked the campus with are standing with you, fellow protagonists in a story to be told generations from now.

When the news of school closure first hit you, you felt as if you were less than the graduating classes before you. You felt as if you no longer had a defining moment in your high school career. You felt as if after all these years, you suddenly had little to show for it.

You were wrong.

Sources
Sinek, Simon. ​Simon Sinek's 5 Minutes on Why COVID-19 Is An Opportunity​. ​Youtube​, 28 Mar. 2020, www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8lExUWLCyY.
Carrey, Jim. ​Jim Carrey's Commencement Address at the 2014 MUM Graduation​. Youtube,​ 2014, Jim Carrey's Commencement Address at the 2014 MUM Graduation. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V80-gPkpH6M

How to Turn Your Life Into a Coming of Age Movie--Alexis

At some point in our short lives, most of us have sat and enjoyed a classic coming of age/teen film. No matter if it was from the 80s, 90s, or 2000s, im sure we’ve all asked that same sad and longing question: why cant my life be like that? Well, as a lover and critic of coming of age films, i've gathered research to help you do just that! Follow these steps and you might just fall in love to a David Bowie song.

1. Be a teenager. Whether you are just entering your teen years, or about to leave them, i know you have pent up agnst somewhere inside you. Given that these are technically the most fragile years of our lives, (aside from childhood development) it is critical that you are in a stage of your life where you feel lost! Haha!
   
2. Make sure that every adult you’ve ever encountered doesn’t understand you. Because its not like they were a teen once in their old lives! Do your best to ignore any help given by these adults, as it makes for a more edgy character. Oh, and talking back is good too, adds flavor.
   
3. Always start off your highschool semester with little to no friends. (its okay, because by the end of the movie, you're supposed to have met them all!) If you do have a best friend, ensure that they are the polar opposite of you, for the sake of character foils. And remember, their primary function is to highlight YOUR qualities, so the less personality they offer, the better! Because after all, no matter how uninteresting you may be, you are the star of this life baby.
   
4. HAVE A LOVE INTEREST! I don't care if your crush has literally no clue who you are! Because as soon as your supporting lead gives you the bare minimum version of a makeover, you will be the center of their world. Don't forget to learn all of their interests to capture their attention. Even if it means being someone you're not, its allll worth it for that 10 second kiss at the end of the film!
   
5. Get into some sort of conflict. There is simply NO PLOT if there is no conflict. Now this part is really up to you. Given that you have followed all the other steps very strictly, the conflict should be the easiest part. I like to stick to the classic picking the love interest over the best friend, to remind us (and the audience) of the importance of friendship. And don’t you go worrying about how much you're going to hurt your friend in a fight, it will all be resolved by the time the credits are rolling!
   
6. The most important step of it all. What ​really m​akes a coming of age movie? Above all else, what is the part that you wish you could do with your friends, if only they didn’t fear their parents like normal children? Thats right, taking that 3 am drive through your small boring town. Windows rolled down, favorite songs blasting, and the montage practically films itself. Of course, you will need friends whose parents either A.) are not concerned with their child’s location at all times, or B.) simply do not own a home security system!
   

And you know what? I wish all of those steps were easy to achieve. Because if so, I'd feel as free as all those kids driving in their cars without any care in the world (and its always 3 am for

some reason?). But I do have a lot to be thankful for. My life does not have to be this crazy unrealistic expectation that i have put on my teen years after watching countless coming of age movies. My life is amazing ​because ​of the people I met who share that same longing. A movie that my friends and I will always love is perks of being a wallflower. Disregarding every comedic step I listed above, I love that movie. So much. It makes me crave every blissful moment i've shared with my friends, even if it meant hanging out in someone’s room all night for a sleepover, doing absolutely nothing while listening to a playlist that makes us feel safe and happy. I miss it. I really do wish things were better for all of us, not being in lockdown. Because if so, I'd call them and we’d go out at 4:30 am and drive to music that makes us feel incredible and invincible and watch the sunrise. And no we don’t HAVE to go out in the middle of the night, but those movies were right. It just makes it better. These are the people who deserve to sit with each other in front of a view and smile so hard they feel like their cheeks are going to burst. They deserve to cry in the best ways, not from love interests or petty conflicts that contribute to the plot. And i deserve to have the comfort of knowing that even when i feel like i'm not enough for the things around me, there will always be someone who believes that the world would suffer without me in it. And i've found them. I have my supporting characters. If you haven’t, you will. I promise.

Simulation--Elisa

The sun was just coming up from the horizon, the golden orange hues blended together in a brilliant show of light. I had been restless all night, but standing here now, I felt at peace. The soft sand underneath my feet, the cool breeze raising goosebumps on my skin and the constant whoosh of the tide coming in and out. As the sun made its way up, more people began to make their way down to the beach, so I got up, dusted myself off and made my way back to my room. It was right on the beach, expensive, but that’s the price you pay when you have the best view in the area. As I made my way back I decided I would go for a run along one of the hidden trails that the locals had shown me, a fairly flat, 180o​ ​path through a tropical canopy. I got dressed and immediately set foot to my destination, I figured on the way back I’d grab a bite to eat in one of the hole-in-the-wall cafes. I noticed while I was walking that the once clear, bright blue skies had turned a shadowy gray, I guess my run will have to be a little shorter than usual. I set a goal for 5 miles and did a quick stretch before starting in a light jog until I got to a comfortable pace. As I jogged, I took note of the beautiful nature surrounding me, the hum of the insects as they hid from predators, the chirping of birds as they looked for their next meal and the chatter of monkeys as they carried about their daily activities. Before I could trip I focused back on the path in front of me and set to focus on the rest of my run. In fact, I was so focused that I didn’t even notice that all those sounds I had been hearing just a few minutes before had suddenly stopped. In its place was a low rumbling, the suddenly quiet skies erupted with a cacophony of shrieks so loud I had to cover my ears. That was my first mistake. In the chaos of noise the only thing I could think to do was run back the way I came. Second mistake. As I got closer to the entrance I had come in through I noticed people running, but from what I still could not tell. When I reached them I tried to get someone, anyone to tell me what was going on when I looked up. Third mistake. I willed my legs to move but they just wouldn’t cooperate. The once peaceful waves that I had seen this morning now betrayed me as they towered over and rushed towards me. Adrenaline kicked in and I finally had enough sense to turn around and run like everyone else. But it was no use. The water hit me with a force so strong that my lungs felt as if they had burst with the pinprick of a thousand needles. I couldn’t escape the debris that I was forced upon as the water continued rushing and never had I ever felt as much pain and fear in that moment in my entire life. I never thought it would end for me this way, I still had so much I wanted to accomplish, so many places I wanted to see...but I’d never get the chance. There came a moment, however, when I finally looked up, I could see the muddled sky from beneath the water and resolved that this was not the way I was going to go. I fought with all the strength that was left in me to reach the surface, and just as my hand was about to break the top...everything went black.
“Miss Wi...ms, c.. you ..er me?” 

“Miss ..iams, can y.. h... me? 

“Miss Williams, can you hear me?”

I strained to open my eyes against the bright glare of the lights overhead. Where am I? What happened? Wait... the tsunami! I immediately tried to sit up and noticed that I was in a dimly lit room with four solid metal walls surrounding me as well as a man with a white coat and another posted at the door with all black attire. “Where am I? Am I in the hospital?” I asked.

“Miss Williams my name is Dr. Howard, the tsunami you experienced was not real, you’ve been under a simulation for one year. Your full name is Estelle Williams, you live in Quantum City, today’s date is May 3, 2089. I know not everything may be coming back to you right now but a nurse will be in shortly to administer you a serum that will help restore your memory of life before. Thank you for paying to experience SIMULATION PARADISE, once you gain your memories back, you will remember that the easiest way to take you out of the simulation was to create an environment where your fear hormones would overpower your system that it would shut down long enough for us to remove you from said simulation. Again thank you for your time and I hope you had a good experience please do not forget to rate us on our free SIMULATION app.”

As he got up and walked out I sat there bewildered about everything he had just told me, I couldn’t believe that I had purposely paid to be put through something like that. All that fear and hopelessness that I’d never take another breath...wasn’t real but it was all just a simulation.

"Normal"--Peyton

When you look at someone you don’t really think about what they’ve gone
through on the inside. You know their outsides and you see how they act, but you don’t know how they feel. At the age of five, I sat down next to my three year old sister with a juice box in my hand at the coffee table and my mom told us daddy was going to live somewhere else. My first question was who was keeping the dog and whether or not I was getting more than one Christmas morning. Dad got the dog. I went to school the next day and told everybody my dad stole my dog. In first grade you don’t understand what your mom means when she tells you to pack for daddy’s house. You don’t understand why you see mommy for seven days straight and only see daddy for three days. It just doesn’t make sense. The older you get, the more information they tell you. The older you get, the more sadness and anger you have inside of your body. I was my sister’s support system and she was mine. We have been each other’s go-to for anything and everything since the day we decided that no matter how much change happens in our life, we are not going anywhere. It’s been that way for sixteen years. Each big holiday after the divorce you get more and more comfortable with the fact that this is going to be your “normal.” My dad has been a fireman my whole life. For seventeen years I've seen that man work his ass off to provide for his family no matter what the circumstances were. Working every Christmas morning and having to

celebrate three days later, all of the birthdays missed. My sister and I understood all of it. Ten years ago both of my parents found the people they were meant to spend the rest of their lives with. We have two homes, two completely different families. I’m the oldest of five siblings. Three brothers and my sister. “Normal” to me is being at my dad’s house and remembering that I left my favorite shoes at my mom’s and not wanting to drive fifteen minutes away when I can just wait another five days until I'm back at moms. Forgetting the textbook I need for homework. Getting a text that one of them needs me to babysit and now I can’t go out that night because it’s my brothers and I’d never say no. That is my normal. When someone looks at me they see smiles, laughter, and jokes to cover up the fact that I couldn’t sleep the night before from how deep my therapy session was. Seventeen years on Earth and eight years have been spent going to therapy because your parents think they screwed up your life. Then one day you wake up and realize they didn’t screw your life up, they changed it for the better. They give you more and more people who love you unconditionally and give you life long memories. Never would I change anything in my life. I’m thankful for my normal.

Car Dreams--Rendell

It was November of 2010. The sudden surge of a new car smell came as we walked into the hall of the Los Angeles Convention Center. So many cars of different body styles and colors, all brand new and shiny, ready to be showcased for all. As a 8 year old, 4 foot 5, really dark and chubby 3rd grade Filipino boy, I was so happy to just be in the presence of what I loved the most at the time, which was cars. I would always wait for this moment every year, the Los Angeles Auto Show that came around every mid November. 2 weeks full of automakers all across the world showcasing their brand new cars, engines, features, and sometimes special gimmicks. The car brands I would always be interested in were all the high end luxury cars, like Mercedes-Benz, BMW, Audi, Land Rover, Jaguar, and Lexus. But at the Lexus booth, there was one car that caught my attention the most, the brand new 2011 Lexus LFA. It had an amazing sounding 4.8 liter V10, with 552 horsepower, a beautiful red leather interior with the cleanest, sparkly white paint on the exterior and an extreme price tag of $375,000. My Lolo, or Grandpa in English, would always take me to the auto show every year, just so we could look at all the cars. So when I saw that Lexus, I told him, “Lolo I'm gonna buy that car when I'm older!” Realizing the price tag of the car, my Lolo had told me “This is a very expensive car, but I know you can buy this one day. Always remember to work hard and that’s how you will achieve your dreams.” Now as a 3rd grader, I took that advice a little lightly because at the time school wasn't very hard for me, but little did I realize that his words would mean way more later in my life.
When I was 15 and a half, my friends would ask what I was looking for as my first car. I had my eyes on the first generation Lexus IS300, mainly because it had the same engine from one of my other dream cars, which was the legendary 2jz inline 6 engine from the Toyota Supra. The engine was known for its reliability and its ability to take on immense amounts of power. I also knew that the car was the perfect balance of safety, reliability, and price for my parents to approve. From the time I got my permit, I watched so many IS300 videos on how it drove, the maintenance issues, and the most important part, which was how many modifications you could do to the car. From intakes, to exhausts, to new stereo head units, and especially lowered suspension, you could do so much to the car. That’s when I realized that cars weren’t only a way of transportation. Modifying your car was another way of art and expressing yourselves by making the car the way you want it. But the most important thing I realized is that these people with modified cars weren’t the richest people, but instead were people who worked really hard to buy all these expensive car parts to fulfill the idea in their head of the dream build of their car. My Lolo’s message to me came to mind, as it made me realize that working hard for your dreams doesn’t only apply in school, but also applies to other things to be successful in life, like cars. From that point on, I was focused on saving up for a car, doing as much as I could to earn money; whether it was selling my old stuff on offerup, reselling shoes, and even having an under the table job at one point. By the time my Lolo had come back from the Philippines, he saw that I was saving up for a car, so a few days after I turned 16, my Lolo had pulled up a car to my house and surprised me with the IS300 I had been saving up for! The previous owner had done a lot to the car, including a full exhaust, an intake, and even a bodykit! It was a very good looking build and I wished to keep the car in great shape to respect the previous owner’s hard work, but as a new driver driving a lowered car, I had some problems with maintaining the bodykit. Nevertheless, I always tried my best to take care of my car. I’ve had so many memories

with it so far, trips to go play basketball with friends, going out to eat with friends, and finally driving my family around. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing with the car though, I’ve had times where it didn’t start and a ball joint broke on the car one time and I couldn’t drive it for a few weeks. But that’s a given with old cars, no car is perfect. Now I don’t know when I’ll start saving up to get my next car, or even when I get my dream car, the Lexus LFA, but I’ll always remember what my Lolo said to me, to always work hard and my dreams will be accomplished!

Welcome to the Hauntings of Memory Lane--Laila

Now and then I think about you, my old friend. I think about how you ruined me, but in the process, you made me a better person. I think about the sting you caused when we made contact with each other. I think about how that sting became familiar. The pain, the escape, the feeling, it was something I had grown quite fond of. For a while, you made me numb, numb to emotion, numb to society, numb to life. Nothing has been the same since you came into my life. I'm still haunted by everything you've done, the memories of how you made me feel, what you made me forget just for a split second, what you gave me, and what you took away.I was tired of pretending everything was okay of pretending I was okay because I wasn't, but nobody noticed that. I have bipolar depression ICD 10 f31.3, meaning I'm bipolar with mild/ moderate depression. Every day for a year, I put on this smile and told myself, "you'll be fine," hoping that one day I'll believe it. For as long as I can remember, all I've tried to do is make everyone happy and be there for everyone in no regards to how I feel whatsoever. I've realized that nothing truly made me happy, I couldn't even begin to describe how I felt, I wasn't pleased, but then again I wasn't sad. It was like I was caught in between all these emotions, and I felt so empty I wanted to die. As I grew older, I've met people who have helped me and who have supported me despite my past. I've met people with a similar story, and I realized that I'm not the only one going through this, and one day I hope to help others the way they've helped me. I'm sharing this part of me because I wouldn't be here or who I am today without this experience. Everything that's happened to me in the past has made me a more reliable person. I can be there and help many others that are now going through what I went through. Sometimes I want to

go back to you but I know I left you behind for the better. It was good for me to leave you behind because I'm a better person for it but I can't help but wonder how I would have ended up if I did not seek help. I let you go long ago now it's time for you to do the same. Im free.

"Thank You Etiwanda"--Kahea

Here we are, after 13 long years of sleep deprivation and that traumatic school bell going off every hour. Adults have often been telling me that ‘High school is the best years of your life,” and that “oh life starts when you leave high school.” I refuse to let highschool be the best years of my life, and you adults should stop feeling so nostalgic for happier times because of how doom and gloom you feel. That and to say that “real life starts after high school,” is stupid and don’t let it downplay all of the experiences and decisions we’ve had to make be it good or bad. Life started the second we were born into this world, and everything that’s led up to this moment has made us prepared to go off and do what we want to do. 

I think we can all remember when we first got to this school, and for me, it started early in the summer because I joined the marching band. The rubber that makes up the turf has a rich rubber smell in the summer because of the heat, which I remember from practices. Being covered in chilled sticky sweat in the last hour of 1 of many 12 hour practices is euphoric, with it all leading it to a 10-minute performance in a filled stadium by the end of the week. The part of the marching band I miss the most is the parades. January 12th, 2018 was the last parade I ever marched, and being around so many people that are in different parts of the world right now is a pleasant wholesome experience in my mind. Backstage at Disney was filled with security making sure we didn’t have our cameras out or were doing anything more ridiculous. We marched in California Adventure from the start of the Guardians of the Galaxy ride and ended at the Pier while it was being renovated to be what is now Pixar Pier. What’s ironic is that not only do the students march a good mile but so do the parents as they frantically try to get pictures as they push through all of the small children. We worked so hard for that moment and I loved waving at people because they’d wave back in awe. In the end, the Marching Band not only made me more musically literate but gave me a family mentality that I carry with me whenever I think of others. 

I quit the marching band my junior year so I could focus on school and ASB. ASB had many brother and sister figures that helped guide me through my school year academically and emotionally. The pressure of what I wanted to spend my life doing as a career loomed over me. Life was incredibly stressful from sophomore year onward for reasons I don’t want to say on here. Alongside that, I bounced interests from the medical field to chemistry, to engineering, and struck gold on film at the end of junior year. What I was searching for was completely under my nose the whole time. Doing homework I'd be listening to music or having an episode of a show playing in the background, and sure that’s minor, but what’s ironic to me was that I had started a whole club based around film while I was struggling to figure out what I wanted. 

Lastly, What perfectly wrapped up my 4 years at Etiwanda was Kingsball week. All of the work and relationships I made over the past 4 years all came together to support me. In high school, we all struggle to find our identity but that week gave me a pretty good idea of who I am. Going onwards into the future I know myself better, and how hard I'm going to have to work to achieve what I want in this lifetime. 

High School is a small sliver of my life and has shaped my soul and made me aware of its flawed but still beautiful form. When I look at this letter in the future if I'm ever misguided or looking to see how corny I sound then hello future me. I hope you still hate olives on pizza. You know well how they can ruin a whole pie but maybe I'm taste blind in the future or we’re all eating nutrient mush out of tubes who knows. Remember to take your SOMA, I prefer you to not, oh I hope I don’t jinx the future. In all seriousness, thank you Kahea for accomplishing what you have and treating me so well. Alright well I'm going to hop off the computer and stand in my backyard since that’s as far away from home I can get in this quarantine, thank you Kahea, and thank you Etiwanda.

The Lost Library--Ethan

The sun-scorched sands of the desert blistered by day, and I wished for cool winds under the graceful moon. The star-kissed lands of the desert froze by night, and I wished for warm mercy under the noble sun. Yet I bore the journey through inhospitable wastes, out of necessity. Miasma had gripped my home and crushed it in its shadowed fist, before being carried by hellmouth’s breath to cover the world. No bazaar’s merchant or madrasa’s wiseman knew of a cure. In search of a panacea, I travelled to this very hellmouth, a gaping wound in the earth, where in its maw it had uncovered the lost library from under the sands, grand and glistening in ancient glory under dawn’s early sunrise. Though only a single tower was visible, or even accessible, worldly wisdom radiated from its contents to repulse the sickening evil emanating from the hellmouth. I set upon the grandiose chamber, in awe of the books, tomes, scrolls, and scriptures housed for millenia within shelves reaching up to ceilings that seemed to rival the heavens. Almost immediately, however, my amazement turned to disappointment when I saw that many of the great works had been ruined, faded, burned, or buried and lost to time forever. I sifted through every one, devastated to see its pages indecipherable. But one scroll, gilded in as much gold as it was covered in dust, had been preserved; the library had succeeded in its purpose. Although the page was yellow with age, it read, in elegant penmanship, with refreshing earnesty that seemed to be rare anymore. When I travelled across the desert again, scroll in hand, I was greeted with a dark and lifeless silhouette of a city’s skyline, and wondered if I was perhaps too late, until the lights turned on.

Expression--Vanessa

According to the Cambridge Dictionary art is the making of ​objects​, ​images​, ​music​, etc. that are beautiful​ or that ​express​ ​feelings​. I believe art is anything that allows you to express yourself. It is another tool that can be used to have your voice heard. Typically when one hears the word art, a Picasso piece might come to mind, but it is important to understand the other forms that define “art”. Personally, I believe art is all about expressing your soul and mind. Whether it be through paintings, poetry, dance, or drama if a message gets across to an audience, that should be considered art. Anyone can be an artist. At a point in one’s life, they have become an artist. Anything from a simple sketch on the side of your math homework to a poem you had to write about yourself in middle school, can all be seen as sentimental expressions. Art is also a way inner creativity can be shown. One person might not be the best at verbally expressing their feelings, but what if they have a passion for painting, they can still spread a message. Art allows people to describe what they are feeling or describe who they are through a piece that embodies their emotions. A message will always be sent through art and whoever sees the piece then has the chance to interpret it. Interpretation, another thing about art that is so powerful and essential. What's unique about paintings, plays, poems, etc is that everyone takes in the art differently and creates their own meaning. How you interpret art can also reflect how your mind works.
One category that should be associated with the term art more often is fashion. I know some people who use fashion to express themselves and I know others have fun and enjoy picking a “style”. The style people have is often an expression of personality. There are many terms that describe style such as edgy, sophisticated, relaxed, etc. What’s important to note is that those words can also describe personalities. Noticeably, not everyone uses fashion to express themselves, but it is a form of art. For example, fashion shows can be compared to art galleries, poetry slams and plays in the sense that all events are using art to express a message. According to Temitope Dare, a Northeastern contributor, fashion is what makes people feel more creative and accomplished. If you think about it, any type of art can agree with Dare’s definition in that it helps people feel creative and accomplished. Everyone has some type of creative side and it is important to show that to the world. Not only is creating art therapeutic, it can also boost confidence. Once you create something that you are proud of and make it available for others to see, it will increase self esteem and help diminish self-doubt. As we move forward, it is important to stop and recognize art in whatever form it comes in, because you never know what impact it can have on your life.
Sources:
https://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/art https://www.hercampus.com/school/northeastern/fashion-form-expression