Like What You Teach, Teach What You Like

I have learned lots of things in AMST 100. I can honestly say now that I know how to start a blog on Blogger. Culture is not the same as heritage and even the meaning of a transnational world is clear. I will probably forget them after New Years though. What I will not forget is learning that any topic can be interesting to learn. The deciding factor is the atmosphere of the classroom, and the enthusiasm of the teacher. It is precisely this reason that AMST 100 is what it is and has greatly exceeded my expectations. 

Word Count: (99)

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

I've had many weird dreams in my life. But the dreams that get to me are the ones you wake up from feeling like part of you hasn't. Like some element from the dream is hanging around inside your head. That feeling always freaks me out.

Last year I had a reoccurring nightmare about being lost in a hotel and looking for my room while hearing a kid singing the first stanza of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star over and over. I always woke up with the song stuck in my head and it really turned me off to the tune after a month or so. I've had that weird feeling for hours after waking up each time that part of me was still in a dream. It's hard to explain unless you've experienced it yourself.

This lasted about a two months, maybe three. I wasn't exactly keeping track at the time. Then I took a trip to New York, which was a first for me so I was super excited. The dream had ceased for a couple weeks at this point and wasn't even on my mind when I checked into the hotel.

Something was making me really uneasy during check in. After a few seconds it hit me, I could hear Twinkle Twinkle Little Star from one of the halls that opened into the atrium. It was a little girl's voice singing it. I tried shaking it off, telling myself silly coincidences happen. After the clerk gave me my key I got into the elevator just in time for a family of four to walk past towards the front doors.

The little girl stopped mid song and turned to look at me. She said as the door closed between us "Mommy! It's the man from my dream!"

Point: Coincidences do happen...

Word Count: (298)

Urban Paradise

     
      With morning comes sunrise and the day begins. The shopping district lies still and asleep, while joggers run, following the curved road trail. Accompanied by man’s best friend, together they race the running maple trees along the path. Outlined by the road trail, Washingtonian Lake lies nested in the center. As the clock turns to noon, mothers and kids watch the ducks feed within. The shopping district begins to wake too, in preparation for the nighttime rush. As the sun sets and the sky sparkles with stars, the entertainment center bursts to life. Families out for dinner, couples out for dates, and even co-workers get a break. 
      Just like what the attendees can tell you, Rio Entertainment Center is a perfect gathering spot for you. Morning person or night owl, there is something for everyone. Nature lover or shopaholic, they have you covered. Not to mention, the lakes a beautiful view.

WordCount: (150)

Group Member: Kevin Zhang

Fate

Lots of things have happened in my life. Somethings bad, and some good. The fun part is finding out which one it falls under. There are numerous moments in my past where unveiling the truth behind these events to be quite surprising, but none as much as freshman year in college.

 For as long as I can remember, I have always been a procrastinator. Whether it is a month long project or simply taking out the trash, if I'm doing it, it’s going to be last minute. I would be lying if I said I’ve never regretted procrastinating, but it ‘s a habit that’s impossible for me to break.

The semester was in home stretch and only 2 weeks left until winter break. We had been given an art history paper, which was to be due in replacement of the final. The 10-page assignment was given out two months prior and we were allowed to turn it in up until the last day of class. But, of course, I waited till the last day. I was racing down 95 that morning when fate would have it that there be traffic. I was stuck there for over an hour, as I watched the minute hand on my analog clock slowly work its way around the dials right up till 10:50. Crushed, I exited the belt way and headed back home. I decided to e-mail my professor and pray that she would let me turn it in late due to the circumstances. Once again, fate intervenes. My professor had sent out an e-mail explaining that class has been canceled and the assignment was pushed back till finals week.  In the end, I got a 98 on my essay and an A in the class.

I believe everything happens for a reason.

(Word Count:299)

National Treasure

Museums are national institutions filled with rich heritage and culture. Erected in 1937, with its large white marble and concrete walls, the National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC is no exception. Filled with national relics from vibrant paintings to magnificent sculptures, the gallery exhibits our very culture and history through rendered masterpieces. From sketches by Leonardo da Vinci to Claude Monet’s water lilies, these galleries host an unlimited source of inspiration. Prying open the minds of creativity to all who visit . A place filled with history, culture, and unrelenting inspiration, that is a national treasure. 

Word Count: (97)

National gallery of art washington. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://www.nga.gov/home.htm

Nectar of the Spice Gods

The key to any good dish is a delicious sauce, and nothing beats a good bottle of hot sauce. A pinch of sour and a kick of heat, what’s not to like. Hot sauce is tricky business though. There is so many out there and only one can satisfy the inner critic inside us all. For that, we have Frank’s Red Hot. It is the perfect blend of flavor and heat.  As the nice old lady from the commercials say “I put that sh*t on everything.” I’d listen to her too, because once you've tried it, you’re never going back.

(Word Count: 100)

Collared Artist

      One fateful day, about three years ago, I decided to pursue an art degree in college. I packed my bags and hit the road for college visits that exact weekend. My focus was on the art departments, which were generally the same. Tall buildings, glass walls and students running around in t-shirts, sweat shirts and hoodies. I’m a big guy for collared shirts and polo's so naturally this was discouraging. I wanted to keep my style but also didn’t want to be weird amongst my fellow artist. In the end, my identity is much more important. I never regretted it.  

Word Count: (100)