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About architecture
About architecture
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Describing My House My house has often been referred to as 'Amytiville', since the sun rarely shines in the back garden. However the enclosed front garden is a perfect spot for sunbathing as there are no houses on the opposite side of the road, only a marvelous view of Barry Docks. It is an old Victorian three-storey house and stands between two others just like it. They are bigger than the other houses along that road because (rumour has it) they belonged to some Victorian ship-owners or perhaps Admirals. It is much bigger inside than it appears because many of the rooms have now been knocked through: downstairs the two front rooms were converted into a large living room and the back room was knocked through to make the kitchen bigger. The front room is a very spacious and relaxing area, painted sky blue with wooden skirting boards and windowsills. Next to the cream leather sofa nearest the front window, there is a tall fig plant that gives the room a feeling of life. On the wall above the fireplace there is a print called "Balconies on the Grand Canal", by Jonathan Pike. Towards the back of the room, some large French windows open into the kitchen. The kitchen is bigger than most (it used to be a living room and a kitchen but has since been converted into a large kitchen). It is a very aesthetically pleasing room, the near side of it almost empty, except for a dresser and a game of solitaire sitting on the nearest windowsill. The cooking area is has a farmhouse feel to it and have many cupboards and shelves, which are stacked with cooking equipment and recipe books. The kitchen leads to the small back garden, which is surrounded by high walls. The small lean-to houses the washing and drying machines and the large brown shed contain paint pots and some sport equipment. The original wooden staircase in the hall leads up to the first floor where there are three bedrooms, one bathroom and an airing cupboard.
Art is always a highly debated topic. What is art? What is artistic? Which is better poem or song? Music and poetry are both great ways to express artistic passion, and each have something a little different to from the other. Two greatly artistic pieces is the song “Chicken Fried” by Zac Brown Band, and the poem “Living Room” by david Yezzi. In this case, though it is a great piece, the song “Chicken Fried” by Zac Brown Band is not as artistic as the poem “Living Room” by David Yezzi. The use of similes, rhyme scheme, diction, symbolism, and just overall theme, truly makes “Living Room” the more artistic piece. Each have their pro’s and con’s, and each have powerful poetic devices, some more than others. Though both pieces have artistic grounds,
down behind many layers of glass in a sort of leather conservatory we started towards town?
Everybody has heard the old saying that crime does not pay. Eventually crime and breaking the law will catch up with you. This theme is one commonly found in literature, TV and cinema. And, it is one of the messages Law & Order: Special Victims Unit represents. In this NBC television series, the SVU specializes in sexual offense crimes. This is told to viewers in narrative form in the opening sequence of each episode. Through the representation of the vicious and heinous crimes being investigated in each episode, the ideology of this show is that while the criminal justice system may be hard and flawed at times, as a whole it works and is best for American society.
stories high, with large pillars in the front. Ivy grows up one side of the
I have lived in a total of three houses throughout my life. My first house, I only lived in for a short amount of time. It was a small, one floor house in Berea. I was probably only six months old when we moved out, so I don’t remember living here. After we moved out of our Berea home, my mom, dad, and I moved into our new house in Strongsville in Deerfield Lake. This house is home to some of my fondest memories of all time.
it appear homely or a place worth a friendsgiving dinner. Before we had begun cleaning up my
As I opened the door to the creepy old haunted house on my street, I started to think that maybe this wasn't such a brilliant idea. I scolded myself for wanting to turn back, and hesitantly stepped inside to explore. My brown hair and dark brown eyes made me practically camouflaged in the wood-paneled foyer, except for my old purple hooded sweatshirt and comfortable gray sweatpants. I was the average height for a sixteen year old, but I was still going to have to look up to check for cobwebs and the dust in every crevice. My hair already needed to be washed because so much dust has fallen onto me. I finally got enough nerve to begin walking through the house.
“The House I Live In” has a collection of strongly informed and articulate interview subjects who have decades of research and practice in the subject. The war on drugs is costly and it has not worked. It has actually torn apart families and communities. It mainly targets the poor and minorities and has filled the prisons with many nonviolent offenders, most of them serving insanely long sentences. The director makes a well-reasoned case that society would be better assisted if most drug offenders were reformed instead of imprisoned. While the drug war is for many synonymous with the Reagan administration, it was actually officially launched under Richard Nixon. Of the 2.3 million persons imprisoned in the United States, more than 500,000 are for nonviolent drug crimes. In the meantime, the amount of drug use has continued relatively constant, and in some areas actually gone up.
My grandmother was a woman like no other. Her name is Mary Jane, she is funny, charismatic, honest, Godly, beautiful, someone I could truly call my best friend. My twin sister Vanessa and I would spend every summer at my grandma 's house from the time we were born till the time we were 17 years old. It was a summer trip that we looked forward to every year. My grandma would call us her angels and would take us with her everywhere she went. She would take us to work with her, the bingo, the grocery store, the laundry mat; where ever she was we had to be there also. When ever the summer came to an end, my sister and I dreaded it. We never wanted to leave grandmas house. That was our favorite place to be. Grandma would always re-assure us that
It all starts at the base of the driveway. Every crack in the driveway leads to somewhere new. The median line through the flat runs up and meets the closed garage door that used to be open. This is the only part of my home that is not welcoming. On the short and narrowing strip from the garage to the front door sits a red bench that at one moment in time was not red, but a tattered grey shadowed wood. What once was worn has been refurbished, but will be worn again over the years by more memories and weathering. Through the front door lays my whole life and the memories that unfolded. This is my home.
"The House I Live in" is based on the death of his housekeeper's son of the filmmaker Eugene Jarecki, who was inspired to add up the true cost of America's losing war on drugs. This film describe how American’s government tried to make the country free or drugs but at the same time using the money from the seizer. Based on this video we could tell that through the years in this country have been a racist feeling that separate and divided our communities. For example, black people used to live in the 1930s happy in the southern of United Stated but around the 1960s they were forced to move north because black girls were getting rape and for the government they were responsible of what happened to them and when that happened to a white girl then they were declared innocent and justice at that time just existed for white rich people. In the case of Nannie, who was raped when she was young and because of her skin color society
When spending time with my girlfriends I listen to the many complaints of early marriage and having children at a young age. The never ending conversations about how everything changes and your life is not your own anymore is a bore. From the lousy sex to cheating with the girl next door leaves me confused as to why divorce papers haven’t been drawn up, and then the famous expression, “I could’ve had a career and gone places,” seems to always end the conversations. But for me this is not the case. I simply dream of having a home that I can call my own.
“Home is where love resides, memories are created, friends always belong, and laughter never ends (Robot check).” A place becomes a home for me when I am around all the things that I enjoy and love. For example, when I am around everyone that I love, I enjoy a peaceful environment and the beautiful landscapes around me. The interpretation of home for me is not a physical thing that I see or that I can remember or even certain thoughts that I can relate, but it is a sensation that overcomes me when I envision being in the comfort of my own home. However, I know that this is a feeling that is calming to my soul and it quietly reassures me that I genuinely belong in a place where I can be free from people constantly judging me.
Upon my arrival I stood eagerly in line awaiting my turn. The excitement flooding my body, people all around me, and cheerful music ringing in my ear. The closer my body reached the front, the more my butterflies fluttered in my stomach. As a day of new experiences was about to begin, I grabbed out my camera, and began to create memories with a click of a button. Once it was finally my turn to enter, the man at the ticket booth grabbed my pass, scanned it, and told me “Welcome to Disneyland!” Once I heard the magical, “swoosh” noise from the ticket booth, I jolted right into the park. My friends following behind me, just as eager and ecstatic as me. Disneyland, my second home, is the place that’s consumed my life for the last three years. While I do go every other month, it still creates new and wonderful memories each time I attend