It was a horrible sense of abandonment to be invisible to someone who was supposed to love me with every ounce of his self. We were going to have an innocent, helpless person to raise before long. How was this going to work? I couldn't turn to family because I was stupid for trying to have a “kid with a kid.” They wanted to remind me of how this situation was my fault. I felt doomed. A snowflake slowly built into an avalanche that was inescapable. I tried to leave the house during his rages and had my keys taken. Things got physical between us on two occasions. One time I was mainly at fault. He took my car keys. He yelled and pleaded and told me that I couldn't take his son. My assurance that I was only going to spend a night or two at my mother's house and …show more content…
I took those words the wrong way. My utopian idea that we help each other and make the Art Colony an engaging tourist location was absurd. We lived in close confines but treating ourselves as a close-knit community was an irritation to most. There was no reciprocity. It was one starving artist for himself. I irritated everyone or I felt like I did. I gave up on being a member of the community and fell back into my typical but miserable role as outcast. I wanted to hide in the shadows again, I became a shadow. When leaving the Art Colony I was baffled that my boyfriend told me I shouldn't be lifting anything heavy. He was not doing it himself. We started to get into an argument and he thought we should halt all activity. He said there was something wrong with me that in the middle of such conflict I would keep packing boxes. Stuff still needed to get done and I couldn't count on him to do it. So we argued while I kept packing. I was an open and loving person who quickly became depressed and isolated. Even when my relationship with Owen’s dad had ended his attempts to manipulate me have not. The lying and thieving behavior continues and escalated initially after the
Everyday, people are faced with choices. Some of life’s choices are simple, such as deciding what to wear to school or choosing a television station to watch. Other choices, however, are much more serious and have life-altering consequences. Being pregnant has many choices, whether or not to keep the baby. There are many choices such as adoption, or abortion. I decided that I would keep my baby because I knew in my heart that I would regret it in the long run if I didn’t. Throughout my pregnancy I suffered from depression, which is the condition of feeling sad or despondent mentally. My depression was mainly due to the fact that I was sixteen, alone, and scared, I was a waitress at a local restaurant, but that job couldn’t pay for all the financial needs it takes to raise a child. I left my baby’s father when all the arguing and physical abuse began. I couldn’t deal with that and I definitely wasn’t going to raise my child through it. Although I knew deep down that this big decision was for the best, it was still difficult and very painful. Just the thought of raising a child alone was scary. My parents were so disappointed in me they really didn’t have much to say, especially my mother. That made my pregnancy worse because I felt as though I had no one to talk to. I had friends to talk to but most of them didn’t understand what I was going through.
1. Choose two objects that have similar form (shape). One must be from nature and the other manifested
My day started kind of rough, because I and my wife couldn’t agree to manage our diverse schedule. I was scheduled to meet with members of my class in downtown San Diego, and she was scheduled for her event at work. Ultimately, after a brief argument, we utilized two different vehicles heading the same direction. A conflict in timing was the cause of our disagreement. As a result, the day for me started chaotic resulting in no inner peace of mind. I didn’t sense no normal pattern of tranquility in my thoughts. I felt mentally exhausted, anguish and pain at the knowledge I that couldn’t be trusted to go to a museum on my own. I started my day with an attitude of frustration and anger. To make matters worse, I thought I was going to a place where historically I found peace and tranquility in my mind. I was always very fond of art, and believe artist today have the freedom to express themselves with whatever style and methodology they have in life. Contemporary artist have greater freedom and influence than artist in the past, because they can use their artistic works to persuade individuals and help them realize or understand they have psychological or emotional personal problems. I believe art can help identify and expose underlying emotional and personal issues that some would normally be reluctant to share openly. This is my own profound personal self-realization.
I was awful young enough to not fully be aware of the entire situation. What I did know was that I didn’t want to move into a new house, attend a new school, and definitely not live without my dad. Adapting to my new and different surroundings was very hard for me. I was upset with my dad for his actions because he was the cause of all the changes. I was mainly angry with my mom though for her decision. To my eight year old self, I felt as if it wasn’t fair. I was her precious girl and entire world and I knew she would do anything to see my happy. For that particular reason was why i couldn 't comprehend her decision. I wasn 't happy with the outcome, I hoped she would forgive him and we could be a family
He was an alcoholic and his drinking caused him to have irrational thoughts and violent outbursts. Even though, I was not part of their household I was exposed to the behavior. Being a child, I questioned his hostility all the time, as I did not understand the reasons for it. I also noticed that nobody would talk about it and it was rapidly forgotten as if there was a sacred secrecy and/or “taboo”. I could not help but to be scared of my neighbor; and most of the time, I avoided his presence. I learned to associate him with violence, aggression, profanity and bad odor. I still remember how loud his voice was; and the way he treated his wife and kids with such disregard for their feelings. Although, indirectly, domestic violence had a profound effect on the way I interact with others and my ability to trust people. As an adult, I think about those times and realize that it was not my fault that my neighbor was an awful human being. I understand that his disparity was not caused by my presence; but by his alcohol abuse and lack of respect for others. It reminds me of one of my favorite poems; (Children Learn What They Live, by Dorothy Law Nolte.) It is very much true; we learn what we
He didn’t listen to me and later that afternoon came back in a dark blue sedan. all of our things wouldn’t fit in the car at once so he had to take 3 trips. Me, May and Jeanne were in the car for the first trip with the dishes lamps and bedding, we also had a mattress strapped to the top of the car. The car would break down a lot and my husband would go out there and see what was wrong and fixed it, He would curse, kick, slam the hood in rage. Once he hit the car with his cane and that hit started the car. I was worried about my family because of all the hate people like us were getting. Once one of my daughters asked me " Why do they hate us?" I said " I don’t understand all the hate in the world.". When we left we had no where to leave but the American Friends Service (they also helped us when we got kicked out of terminal island) helped us find and move into a housing area built by the government for workers. The house had 3 rooms, a stove which meant that I could finally cook and a indoor toliet! When we flushed the toilet for the first time we hooted and hollered with delight! One day I went to go pick up the kitchenware and some silverware I left with some neighbors and then went to a ware house to where I stored some furniture, appliances, and more of my
A sadness that can not be described came over me. I can remember wailing before God asking “why”? Not understanding, I fell into a deep despair. Nothing could comfort the pain that I felt inside. After a process of grieving, adoption became a reality in our lives instead of something we had just thought about from time to time.
I masked my anger with drugs and alcohol. Hung out with people I shouldn’t have, did things I am not proud of. But through it all, my Step Dad didn’t miss a beat…he took me in and showed me what a Dad was supposed to be. I ended up pregnant at 17. Everyone around me told me I was ruining my life and that abortion was the only answer. In the mist of this, in my head, all I could hear that case worker saying “this one’s a flight risk, she runs, she’s never going to amount to anything” Those words, replayed over and over again and in that instance I decided I was going to prove everyone
In 2010, we went to family court for a custody battle, which I will never forget. At that time, I was not ready to face a break up, but I had to do what was best for me and my children. It all started when he threatened to take them away and never return. When he said this to me, I didn’t know what to think or even how to act. I was young; I had very little experience and feared I would never see them again.
Other conflicts would arise, almost like a tangent from the original source of the problem. The fights escalated, and neither my parents nor I addressed the issue appropriately. Instead, we would resort to not speaking, mostly because of my immaturity I did not know how to find a resolution to my conflict. By the end of my senior year, the conflict had escalated to a high degree I thought it was best if I moved out. I moved out a few weeks after high school graduation for the summer.
Having realized art as a structured cultural phenomenon, and having emptied its direct and apparent meaning, it is possible to identify all its possible significations. Interestingly enough, I find that art reveals many diametrically opposed significations: expression and oppression, bias and acceptance, individual and society, creativity and confinement, and freedom and convention, among others. Art signifies the de-politicization of our culture, for even the most political of pieces cease to cause a stir among the masses.
Without art, the world would be a vast empty void of uncreative, unimaginative, non-colourful, bland society; Toast with no butter or topping; boring, life-draining death of the mind. Art is absolutely everywhere in everyday society, yet goes almost unnoticed and unappreciated by some; television, movies, music, stories, billboards, ads, even clothes and jewellery. These are all symbols of art or art in there own right, and without the Arts, there would be none of this. Art has created all these things that go unappreciated, has changed all the unimaginative, has manipulated the place we live into a more beautiful and wonderful place to live. And without support, of all the Arts, then society as a whole will die a little every time art is lost.
Art is not useless as Oscar Wilde stated; nor is it the death of logic by emotion as Plato supposed. Art is an activist trying to inform and shape the social consciousness. Art by nature is critical and questions how the world is perceived. These questions are pivotal in creating change within society. The Armory Show, a major turning point in American art, for example, was inspired by shifting perceptions of the aesthetic and a stirring toward modernity. The Armory Show was an artistic rebellion against the juries, prizes, and restricted exhibitions that excluded unacademic and yet t...
I knew if they found anything stolen he'd be in trouble, so I hid the items and lied to the cops. All to protect him from getting arrested. All I did was make matters worse because then we were both in trouble. Getting sentenced to jail time wasn’t expected. We were shocked and not ready to handle being tore apart again, even though he said he'd wait forever.. I was in jail for 29 months all together but my husband was only around for the first 6 weeks ( Yes, 6 weeks). He cheated on me and left me for a girl he met at work. By the time I got out of jail he had divorced me , got engaged and had a 3 month old Son. My heart felt more than just broke that time. It felt as if it were shattered. That all changed my outlook on love. I no longer believed in it and thought love now was just a myth , a fantasy, some crazy illusion. I was not the loving caring person I once used to be. I was now cold hearted and mean. I felt lost and empty inside. I was miserable all the time and I began to live recklessly by drinking and abusing my prescription medication to pain pills. I no longer cared if I lived or died. I hated everything about life and most everyone in
At the age of 11, my parents decided to reunite, and this became my lifelong struggle with trust, mistrust and development of strength and courage to achieve my dreams and goals in life. My mother continued to work long, hard hours while my father golfed, gambled and drank, to what most people would consider “the extreme”. During my school years, I ran our household while my mom worked. I made sure the house was clean and dinner was always on the table for my father, which left no time for a social life. My dad was abusive towards my mom and I would feel helpless as I listened from my room to him physically and mentally abusing her. After many years of not having the courage to help her, I finally at the age of 16 gave her an ultimatum. Either she leaves the abusive relationship or I would leave, so I would not have to endear the pain of it any longer.