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@koberising
Welcome!
Welcome to my portfolio! As you scroll down, you will see my Creative Writing journey. Additionally, I included the different elements that inspired me throughout it. If you’d like, you can also view my journey by category using the sidebar links.
Please enjoy!
3-2-1 Self-Reflection
3 strengths: - The ability to synthesize different concepts from multiple sources in order to elevate the point I want to make.
- The ability to write descriptive, flowery prose even though I know that it might not be effective/necessary sometimes.
- The ability to use different writing techniques such as repetition and rhythm to make a point seem more appealing even when it usually isn't. 2 aspects in writing i need to work on: - I am quite bad at organizing my thoughts and tend to ramble when I'm not entirely focused on my work. - I would like to improve on my grammar as I know it's not perfect or at the level I want it to be. 1 story I wish or hope to write: - I have this unfinished screenplay of a Filipino short film based on "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. I've written and directed it as a stage play and while it did find success there, I hope that I am just as proud of what I come up with in a film context.
Personal Vignette: Revisiting the Lounge Office
Before we could write our personal vignettes, we first had to identify different personal objects, places or people that we could write about. Those elements had to have a certain significance in our lives. Among the elements I considered writing about, one stood out the most.
“After being shuttled back to school with my fellow players whose parents weren’t able to pick them up on time, we’d be told to stay at this lounge room with a few offices and wait. It always gave me a strange feeling, to do that, as we were waiting not at the prescribed waiting area but at a place we usually weren’t allowed to be in. I know now why these places mystify me the most: they hold experiences only me and a select few have ever experienced, experiences that might pass into nothing if I let them go.
So, me and those few teammates, now in our rawest and kindest forms, would sit in that room’s comfy leather seats and just bond. No more jests, no more prideful remarks, and no more restricted movements related to the fear of being too friendly with a girl classmate. They used to treat me differently, always a little mean, as I was the only girl in the team and they didn’t want to be accused of being chummy. But in that room after training, it was just us being kids, kind kids who cared for each other and acted like what we felt like.”
Personal Vignette: Inspiration
Liminal spaces have always been something I’d stay up late at night pondering about. In fact, a Tumblr post actually brought the concept up in the first place, and little twelve-year-old me couldn’t stop thinking about it since.
Below are some Tumblr posts and images that I kept in mind while writing my vignette.
Places where reality is a bit altered:
• any target • churches in texas • abandoned 7/11’s • your bedroom at 5 am • hospitals at midnight • warehouses that smell like dust • lighthouses with lights that don’t work anymore • empty parking lots • ponds and lakes in suburban neighborhoods • rooftops in the early morning • inside a dark cabinet
playgrounds at night
rest stops on highways
deep in the mountains
early in the morning wherever it’s just snowed
trails by the highway just out of earshot of traffic
schools during breaks
those little beaches right next to ferry docks
bowling alleys
unfamiliar mcdonalds on long roadtrips
your friends living room once everybody but you is asleep
laundromats at midnight
what the fuck
galeries in art museums that are empty except for you
the lighting section of home depot
stairwells
•hospital waiting rooms •airports from midnight to 7am • bathrooms in small concert venues
I just got the weirdest feeling I swear
OK LISTEN THERE ARE REASONS FOR THIS!!!
A lot of these places are called liminal spaces - which means they are throughways from one space to the next. Places like rest stops, stairwells, trains, parking lots, waiting rooms, airports feel weird when you’re in them because their existence is not about themselves, but the things before and after them. They have no definitive place outside of their relationship to the spaces you are coming from and going to. Reality feels altered here because we’re not really supposed to be in them for a long time for think about them as their own entities, and when we do they seem odd and out of place.
The other spaces feel weird because our brains are hard-wired for context - we like things to belong to a certain place and time and when we experience those things outside of the context our brains have developed for them, our brains are like NOPE SHIT THIS ISN’T RIGHT GET OUT ABORT ABORT. Schools not in session, empty museums, being awake when other people are asleep - all these things and spaces feel weird because our brain is like “I already have a context for this space and this is not it so it must be dangerous.” Our rational understanding can sometimes override that immediate “danger” impulse but we’re still left with a feeling of wariness and unease.
Listen I am very passionate about liminal spaces they are fascinating stuff or perhaps I am merely a nerd.
I, for one, appreciate your passion for liminal spaces and thank you for explaining it to the rest of us.
Okay, I love everything about this, but is anyone gonna talk about why Target is on the list? I’m not saying it doesn’t belong there, I’m just wondering. Since it’s neither a liminal space nor a place out of context.
Come on, Science Side. Science me.
some more :-)
Personal Vignette: Snippets of the Past
Below are some images of me and my teammates, both in a football and classroom context. These images helped me immerse myself into the past and truly look at life through the lens of little me.
Please enjoy!
My Personal Vignette
A strange ambience lingers in the air, in the halls, above single-leaf magazines splayed out on crooked oak, in whispers, in yawns, and in the silence that follows. Tiny-spiked boots click-clack against hard cement floors, and tiny musky fingers thumb through glossy yearbook pages and memories of old. Inside, a muted white light flickers, illuminating a ghost town of a school office after working hours. Outside, a watercolor sky of pinks and teals and oranges begins to fall.
What were once rowdy football children have been reduced to their purest forms: dusk creatures glowing with gold and innocence and love in their hearts. They are peaceful, muddled by nothing but the tick of a wall clock and the shallow breaths of a tiring day. They are raw, sincere, no longer flighty about Little Rascals taunts and cooties, but tender with the mutual sentiment that comes with chasing a ball on the ground together from harsh light to sundown. Grasping the rough stitches of their bags, clutching their lunchboxes to their chests, they lull in a shared silence and wait to be picked up.
Unknown to them, this select few threaten to let this memory pass into nothing, for its existence lies only within their own minds; never in the future of the universe will this magnificent alignment of circumstances occur again. It sits on the twilight zone, the liminal space between shouldn’t necessarily be remembered and what shouldn’t be forgotten. It is stairwells, airports, and Family Mart stopovers halfway to the beach. It is midnights, streetlights, and movie theatres right after you leave. But for now, as the last rays of the sun begin to dip under the horizon in the calm of the world’s after-hours, they’ll huddle closer together with cold sweat drying on their backs and continue waiting.
Couplet Poem + Meaning
Here’s a couplet I wrote that I believe allowed me to get more comfortable with writing poetry.
you laugh now but eventually you’ll see i’ll carry on twenty-three’s legacy
I thought about how an ambitious young Kobe so intensely desired to be like Michael Jordan (#23) and thought it was cute. I decided to write about it.
Poetry Task: Inspiration for Power
Below is a song and a video that inspired me to write about power for my poem. I discarded that poem after discovering that it wasn’t authentic or satisfactory to me.
“Power” by Kanye West was the main muse behind my poem about power. I wanted it to be as powerful and arrogant as this song was.
Kobe Bryant had a borderline obsession for winning. He started off as a young rookie who hungered to become the greatest of all time and would fight for the win through any means necessary.
I felt like this video was essential in inspiring me to write about power, as I have that similar thirst for winning. I wanted my poem to come out as truly desperate, just like he was.
Poetry Task: First Draft
he’s living in the 21st century taking it by the reins emerging from the ashes of a repressed fame they tried to strap him to dark oak but he ripped off that duct tape now even mj be asking how much more he can take
they say, “no one man should have all that power” but that Nixon shit only takes him farther stop sniffing, he’s sniffing off the powder your 21st century schizoid man
propagate the record, the war chant, the field’s open pull up in a golden chariot, he’s rolling and all the suburb kids yell “wait for it, wait for it” so watch him do it better than anybody you’ve ever seen do it now flame up the hog, the logs, and bring the girls in show off the lightning, they’re gasping and sighing embodying every characteristic of the egotistic he knows, he’s so fucking gifted in this blacksmith world, he’s the one chosen and he won’t listen when you cry, he leaves in the morning with two stacks of gold on a cold mattress no time for words, won’t stay for a moment so he traipses through a valley of shoes and Louis clothing furs in Mongolian, sitting pretty on Versace sofas Was it worth it all? “Yes!” he screams, and he’ll show it Knowing better than to let a heart win him over
he just needed time alone with his own faults brush the blame on someone else so he could open up his own vault “bitch, tryna tear me down?” Please, he won’t hesitate he’s been hurt, so in spurt he accepts all the basics reality is catching up with him fighting his inner child, but it's winning custody learned only Vegas highways lead straight to the hall of fame and what genius wasn’t just a little bit insane?
Mamba, Malcolm, Michael Jackson a black power man in an Italian worship family they say he is an abomination of the blood inside him and yet they still wonder why he keeps on hiding? at the end of the day, goddamn it he’s killing this shit they know damn well he’s killing this shit he doesn’t need your bread, dad he’s stepping foot on Wall Street Belfort knows what’s gonna happen to him
and they say “no one man should have all that power” but that nixon shit only takes him farther stop sniffing, he’s sniffing off the powder your 21st century schizoid man
now this will be a beautiful death flying to the sunlight waxed wings set alight waxed wings set alight
now this will be a beautiful death flying to the sunlight waxed wings set alight waxed wings set alight
Poetry Task: Inspiration for Liminal Spaces
Below are some images that inspired me to write about liminal spaces for my poem.
I revisited my vignette and the imagery I used for liminal spaces to incorporate those same images into my poem. Midnights, streetlights, movie theatres and the like are still prime examples of liminal spaces that keep me up at night.
These images are what I had in mind when writing the poem. I like how the sun and shadows came in patches. The minimal sunlight came off to me as truly beautiful, and I highlighted it in the following lines for my poem.
run my finger through the gaps
of your ethereal sunshine
Poetry Task: Revised Version
i read the spaces in between words
run my finger through the gaps
of your ethereal sunshine
for in the patches of your shadow
are what is most beautiful:
stairwells
airports
family mart stopovers halfway to the beach
midnights
streetlights
& movie theaters right after you leave
quiet so, are the liminal spaces of your earth
the short breath before you cry
a whisper of a smile
so i wrap them in a box
and swear back and forth
that they will never pass into the twilight
