Sequence Project Final Reflection and Participation Stories
After the presentation and critique on Thursday, I am overall pleased with the results of my project. I think the overarching theme of it became not only to provoke a story or imagination, but to ask questions and further complicate a problem that I’ve set out for the viewers. My favorite questions were ones like “doesn’t this remind you of...” and “why did you choose...”.
The point was raised about the project as to how to present a future, similar, further work like this in the most effective way. Whether this being to reorganize the images in a different way to be viewed or to present the prompt for viewers in a specific way, I should consider these aspects in the future.
Last, but not least, here are the stories that were generated from the prompt I gave to a couple willing viewers. I appreciate their truly imaginative creations and the themes they instill, all from a couple of photographs.
Again, here was the prompt:
1)Background. For my project I was inspired by an children’s storybook illustrator and writer who I researched. People always asked him about what order his bookmaking came in: which came first the illustration or the story. And this wasn’t as interesting to me as when he described where he got inspiration for the storybooks. 2) My Project. For this project I’ve wanted to ask people for stories based from imagination of images I set in front of them. These pictures I’ve taken all feel like they have some sort of story you can imagine from them, but that’s just me. 3) Your part. I’m asking for a story of your own creation based from as few or as many of these images as you choose. It can be as long or as short as you wish. I originally intended for you to choose from within one of the 3 sets of 4 pictures, but if you happen to draw from each other, so be it.
It's January 29 and quickly turning into one of the worst winters ever. The lack of snow is critical and the natives are panicking.
"When will the snow come?"
"It's not even cold enough to make snow".
These were the plaintive cries of the villagers. President's day weekend was around the corner and the lack of snow was freaking people out....no snow means no skiers, no snowboarders.....no tourist dollars.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. One by one the lift attendants and snowcat operators began leaving offerings to Ullr, the Norse god of snow. A beautiful and lovingly hand knit mohair scarf left on a piney alter, a cozy hat, a boot; anything to leave oneself vulnerable to the elements and at the mercy of the gods. Ullr we give our most prized possessions to you....now bestow upon us SNOW
One early morning, in a metropolitan area probably quite similar to yours, a boy left his two-story bungalow home, with the ultimate destination of Goodwill Inc. Over the past few years, he had accumulated quite a few clothing items, and was intent on donating his winter apparel to the less fortunate. However, this boy was not aware of how aggravating it would be to haul his outdated wardrobe the excessive distance (seven hundred fifty-three feet) all by himself. He decided to periodically lighten his load by dropping various garments along the way. Unfortunately, he dropped so many things, he did not have anything left to deliver. Despite this, he boy was not concerned.
Unaware of plate tectonics and planetary geology, he was sure that this was for the best, as the earth must get chilly during the winter. Comforted by knowing his good deed was still accomplished for the day, the boy awarded himself with an only slightly used candle from the same Goodwill he aimed to donate to. Thus, the earth was a bit warmer than it was before, and the boy’s room smelled like fresh linen for many days; this scent eventually gave way to another, as the candle was tipped over, burning his bungalow to the ground. Despite this, the boy was not concerned, as he enjoyed watching fire. It was calming.
I know these footprints are hers. I know it. She’s leaving hints for me to come find her. Everyone, my friends and family, say I need to leave her alone, that she isn’t interested. But why would she distinctly leave footprints and...Oh! She even has left me a glove and another glove! What game is she playing with me? I will find her. I know she wants to be with me. Hmm...it’s odd though that I’ve never seen her wear these gloves or this hat, and the tree is an odd hiding place. But they seem so familiar, as if all winter as I walk this same path through the neighborhood I have seen them. The purple scarf! I know that scarf! It is her scarf!!!...oh wait..wait a minute..no I am such a fool. These garments are from the melted neighborhood snowman, not my love.
One day, it was discovered where all of the missing socks had been going. For millennia humans have thought, "Where the hell did the matching sock to this go?" Or, "What happened to my other glove?" Then, then figured it out.
Deep in the government laboratories found in Area 51, they were experimenting. By leaving socks, gloves, and various items which have a tendency to wander away, out in the open for extended periods of time, they hoped to discover what was making them disappear. With cameras trained on all of the items, and massive sticky rat traps all over the floor, the scientists sat in wait of the creatures. They waited and waited, until one day, some six and a half years after the onset of the experiment, they discovered that they had caught something in the traps!
The head researcher was named Mr. Neal MacNealson, a portly man with a flowing red beard, merry disposition, Scottish brogue, and head as bald an egg. He came out first into the chamber, to investigate. Roughly twenty feet from the central table upon which the clothing articles rested was a small, green creature stuck to a rat trap. Mr. MacNealson went up to introduce himself and determine the identity of the intruder. He said, "Hello there, my name is Mr. MacNealson and this here is my laboratory (pronounced lah-bore-uh-tore-ee)."
The creature responded by saying, in a high, nasally voice and an interesting accent, almost like an Indian man who had inhaled far too much helium. "My name is ¥©π¶∆✓£ and I seem to be stuck. I was merely attempting to gather materials with which to construct my home." Sure enough, in the monster's hand was but a single pink, frilly sock with leopard spots. MacNealson said, "What kinda home do ya be buildin' with that ya wee beastie?" The creature said, "well I was planning on making ranch style home. There were going to be white shutters with a blue coat on the outside and the inside is going to be nautical themed.”
There once was a girl named Elle. Elle was special, so special that she was born with purple hair that glowed at night. When she was little she used to love her purple hair. As she got older, her peers got meaner and some started to tease her for her long purple locks. She became ashamed and wanted nothing more than for her hair to look like everyone else's.
One day while Elle was crying because of her hair, her fairy godmother appeared. She asked, "what is wrong my dear, do you not like the magical hair I bestowed upon you as a child?" "I don't want it anymore, all I want is to be invisible," responded Elle. Her fairy godmother, looking surprised and rather hurt told her, "whatever you wish my dear," and with that, she made Elle invisible. Elle was so relieved to finally be freed from her purple hair. With that, she could walk around town free from judgemental eyes, but what she didn't realize is that while she was invisible, her clothes were not. People were beginning to stare at the floating ensemble of clothing and she had become again what she had feared most, a reason for people to stare. She began to run and frantically throw off her clothes, her scarf, her hat, her boots, her coat and her gloves until she was completely naked and all one could see is the footprints she left behind her. In her haste, Elle never realized how cold it was outside. When she slowed down, she started to freeze.
With doubts that she would ever make it home again, Elle dropped to her knees and started again to cry. With her tears, her fairy godmother came to and asked her, "Child, what is the matter? Did you not like what I did for you?" "No," she quipped back, "I hate it, I am cold, miserable, and more of a freak than I was before with my purple hair." The Godmother, losing her patients with the ungratefulness of the little girl, up and left, leaving Elle cold and invisible forever.
pixelskylines
blakekathryn
kaledo-art
romaincrisis
annaxmalina