It’s all a process

Make an emblem representing a personal idea of happiness or well-being

I went through some of my blogs and exercises throughout the year and tried to composite an image that was best for my mystory. I used photoshop to blend images together and create a sketch of my Emblem. It involves an eye seeing the world through me. Each part inside is taken from exercises and my experiences to make this my own. I took what was important to me and the parts that depicted my life, my popcycle. On Thursday, I would like to work on my sketch and create a more solid, proper Emblem. I think with a little work and maybe some influence from a quote or something from the entertainment discourse, my Emblem will be extremely accurate. Even now, looking at my design, I think the eye is too literal. I could probably go without it and use other parts to convey my message. I also know that family is a big part of my assignments so i should include something from that discourse.

Default Moods
Fake right, dribble left, crossover, bust through 2 defenders for the jump shot and BOOM. Two points scored with a personal foul on the defense. Steady on the line now … line up right foot, plant left foot, spin ball, dribble three times, follow-through. BOOM. Two more points scored from the free-throws awarded. My mind is in one place as I stand at the elbow. The point guard brings the ball down court … “Guacamole!” I knew that play. Time to set that pick. Roll to the basket for the pass. Look down low. Bounce pass! BOOM. Yeah, we got it.

Game time. Walk to the table to check in. My jersey number … 00. Usually followed by: “Is that even allowed?” or “That’s not a number.” Yes it is. It’s my number. So screw you. My mind was in one setting. Focus. I was ready. Determined.  Adrenaline pumping through and the blood flow increases in my brain. I can only see one thing. The audience, the cheerleaders, the screaming is all blocked out. I figured out who I was guarding and kept one eye on her always. BOOM. Jump ball. Game on.

The rivals. Stupid Edgewood Indians. We beat you every single time like it’s a piece of cake. On your home court. Get real. The Melbourne Bulldogs? That was tougher. They were good. But damn, the day we kicked their ass in front of an entire audience … Wow that was ridiculous. My mind was blowing up. What? We beat them? I guess that was what happened when we played our hearts out.

The purpose of my game? My position as guard. Get the ball. Take the shot. Watch my reach when defending. Win the game. The purpose of the institution? To broaden horizons. Workout each day to stay fit/healthy. Do better in school. Learn a thing or two about cooperation, teamwork, friendship. Learn about leadership as the captain and obeying the coach. I could even go far enough to say dealing with the enemy. It was important and part of life. My life. My teammates’ lives. Being passionate about such an important “institution” had no comparison to anything else. It was surreal. My mind was in a different state. A parallel universe. Ready to give everything.

In the night I hear ‘em talk,
The coldest story ever told,
Somewhere far along this road
He lost his soul
To a woman so heartless…
How could you be so heartless… oh
How could you be so heartless?

How could you be so,
Cold as the winter wind when it breeze yo
Just remember that you talking to me yo
You need to watch the way you talking to me you know
I mean after all the things that we been through
I mean after all the things we got into
And yo I know of some things that you ain’t told me
And yo I did some things but that’s the old me
And now you wanna get me back
And you gon’ show me
So you walk around like you don’t know me
You got a new friend
Well I got homies
But in the end it’s still so lonely

In the night I hear ‘em talk,
The coldest story ever told,
Somewhere far along this road
He lost his soul
To a woman so heartless…
How could you be so heartless… oh
How could you be so heartless?

How could you be so Dr. Evil
You’re bringing out a side of me that I don’t know
I decided we weren’t gonna speak so why we up 3 a.m. on the phone
Why does she be so mad at me for, homie I don’t know she’s hot and cold
I won’t stop, won’t mess my groove up cause I already know how this thing goes,
You run and tell your friends that you’re leavin’ me
They say that they don’t see what you see in me
You wait a couple months then you gon’ see,
You’ll never find nobody better than me

In the night I hear ‘em talk,
The coldest story ever told,
Somewhere far along this road
He lost his soul
To a woman so heartless…
How could you be so heartless… oh
How could you be so heartless?

Talkin’, talkin’, talkin’, talk,
Baby lets just knock it off
They don’t know what we been through
They don’t know ’bout me and you
So I got something new to see
And you just gon’ keep hatin’ me
And we just gon’ be enemies
I know you can’t believe
I could just leave it wrong
and you can’t make it right
Im gon’ take off tonight
Into the night…

In the night I hear ‘em talk,
The coldest story ever told,
Somewhere far along this road
He lost his soul
To a woman so heartless…
How could you be so heartless… oh
How could you be so heartless?

In this song “Heartless,” the writer was communicating a feeling/emotion that almost everyone has been through or will go through in a lifetime. The feeling where you think that no one will ever understand when in fact, everyone does. The writer portrays the lost and hurt feeling of a breakup through a typical story. The thoughts going through the boy’s head and pretty much how girls always act … saying one thing but doing something else because of the level of attachment they come to experience. The music has an upbeat feel to it which signifies a different story. Possibly a more happy and bouncy mood/atmosphere. The repetition in the instruments and rhythm make it upbeat but the tone of the song keeps the emotion/mood at a relatable/sad/slightly depressing tone. The beat of the rap happens to works with the happy music to create the atmosphere of the “hurt soul.” The lyrics work with the music for that to happen because the music is a different mood by itself.

Being Singular – page 241

After doing these projects and exercises and coming to realize who I am, I can see that I am an extremely linear person. One thing for sure is not to confuse linear with close-minded. I’d like to think of myself as very open-minded because there aren’t too many things I would immediately criticize.

Through school and learning, my linear personality often shone through my work. Math and science were always the A classes. It all made sense. The cause and effect. Solving a puzzle until the ONE correct answer was determined. It was my turf. My zone. It always made sense and I liked that. I fed off of that feeling, even with friends. The moment I stepped into English class … a class with words and interpreting, I fell flat. What was this bullshit? No, I’m pretty sure the author wasn’t trying to say that the leaf falling off the tree was symbolism for the man going through his life alone and finding out that he had cancer. The leaf just fell. I hated looking deeper into the book and writing essays. Urgh, essays. I sucked at those. Why was it so subjective? I liked the objectivity of math so much more.

My experiences through my family and community also showed this linear part of me. I was rational. My friends saw me as someone who would look at the facts and pass judgment. I was organized. Even the community knew that. I always got the organizing jobs during the festivals. The proof was everywhere. The videos I choose to watch also have a solid plot and I definitely do not enjoy movies with crazy weird plots or no plot at all. SAT scores? My reading section? Pathetic. My family has a great deal to do with this. My parents are both doctors. Both into science and math. Both prefer concrete facts to the flowy English language.

All elements of my popcycle (family, community, entertainment, career) come together to show my incredibly linear self. I like it like that though. Solid. Real. It’s me. It’s everywhere. And all the dimensions of my popcycle will continue to show and influence that part of me.

As I reviewed projects one and two, I saw a couple links that connected the 4 aspects of my popcycle. I know the family portion was extremely prevelant because my family is a huge part of my experiences. Looking through the part of the community that stays consistant through my time (which, for me, isn’t geographical but the reoccuring Indian commnunity that surrounds me and kept intact by Independence Day parades), I can say that my family is and was extremely involved in that. They also are indirectly part of my career and will be a part of it for a long time. They are my financial aid which will make them a huge pat of my early experiences as a dentist. Lastly, the entertainment portion of my popcycle doesn’t directly involve my family, but the movies I watch and connections I make often involve them.

Another huge link in the 4 dimensions of my popcycle is me of course. Everything about me, my personality, thoughts and feelings are all incorporated. The style of what/how I write/think/experience/look at in my life will stay the same throughout time (give or take a little bit) which makes this popcycle and wide image my own.

Greensleeves. Classy. Hard to play.
Easy to please, hard-worker, pushing it to the limit.

All of these characteristics. They take me back. Way back to the memories of my dad treating me like a princess. As far as I can remember, I got what I wanted. With my whole family too. On my dad’s side? I’m the oldest child. First grandchild. What does that mean? It means I get what I want. I never took it to be bratty though. I never bragged, never was a bitch about it, or never yelled. It was a polite thing. “Dad, can I have that please?” Even now, the memories seem to come together when I look around and see people working , struggling for money. Me? I ask my dad. He gave me my car, my clothes, my electronics, and my everything.

And besides the superficial things, he pushed me. Pushed me til I yelled at him. Everyday it seemed. Everyday about the same things. None of them were true. What was happening to us? Why were we constantly fighting? Dentistry was part of the problem. My job. My career. Why couldn’t he just let me get there the way I wanted? Because he knew best, right? Just becase him and my mom basically skipped their undergrads and went straight into medical school. Just because they are huge successes, an anesthesiologist for a mother and a ER doctor for a father? Why didn’t he understand that it’s not how it works in the US. It’s not how things are done. Skipping undergrads, getting into fast-track programs … its hard shit. It’s not the same and I don’t want to do that! But he convinced me. Convinced me to apply to school in Canada next year. Convinced me of my career and why I should choose the way I ended up choosing. They were right. He was right. Is he always right?  Maybe about this. His forte. His niche. School. Career. Its what he is all about.

http://www.allurgentcare.com/

No movies. He didn’t watch movies.  I don’t watch movies. Maybe because we are so alike, maybe because his beliefs get pushed onto me. But there is no other explanation. I cannot relate him, me, or anything to a movie. He hates them. “What a waste of time, you could do something useful in two hours.” We never heard the end of it. My mom loves them but even she stopped. There are the few though … those action packed, scientific movies. Once in a while, he’ll go see it. The relation? James Bond.

That’s his theme song. That, and the song from ESPN.

It’s his cell phone ring tone. That’s what I hear. The entertainment. The memories of endless football games and nights of sports. The action. It definies us. Him. Me. Our family. It’s what we live for. The rush that being a natural athlete gives you. Not defined my history, by films, by theater. Me and my dad, we are science, we are career, we get waht we want, we are sports, and we are defined by our love of action. My dad pushing me to commit to dentistry, pushing me in school, pushing me in sports. It all comes together. Its who we are.