"Wow, this is amazing," exclaimed my little brother Brandon, as he pointed his little finger and breathtakingly admired the view of our nation's capital. "You all see that tall building over there?" My great-grandmother questioned as she redirected our attention to the Washington Monument. "Woah! What's that?" My brothers and I wondered. "That’s the Washington Monument. It is the tallest building in the World!" My grandmother responded excitedly. My brother's enormous eyes filled with fascination as the tall, pointy building touched the clouds. My brothers and I wanted to see the monument up close, so my grandmother and great-grandmother walked with us all the way there. Soon, we heard the surrounding flags of the monument flapping in …show more content…
"We're going to have to get out and walk the rest of the way because the road is blocked by the secret service." My grandmother said. My brothers and I zipped up our jackets while my grandmother put money in the parking meter. "Let's go!" Exclaimed my grandmother. The walk took about five minutes. On the way we saw a handful of food trucks, an abundant amount of people walking and talking, and many huge buildings. The aromas from the food trucks filled the air. As we walked it got colder. A gust of wind sent chills down my spine. We knew we were getting closer when we heard the low mumble of people talking and taking pictures. "There it is," said my brother with amazement. When I saw the White House, I was in shock because I thought it would be bigger. "This is actually the back of the White House," my grandmother explained. "Where's the front?" I asked. "Why don’t we find out?" My grandmother suggested while walking over to the female secret service holding the gigantic gun. At first, I was hesitant whether or not I should follow her, but I was eager to see the front of the White House. As we walked up to her, my heart beat like a drum. When she saw us approaching her, she smiled from ear to ear. My heart rate gradually went back to its normal
Throughout the semester I have grown accustomed to my surroundings. Well, at least for the most part. There is still one building that intrigues me to this very day. As I’d walk past it on my journey to Baruch College, I’d stare the entire time. The building seems like a simple rectangular building. However, some aspect of the architectural design captivates me. Strangely enough, army trucks are always parked alongside the building. However, upon attempting to research the building, I could not find it. I was too intimidated to venture in and inquire for the name. None of the bystanders I asked knew the name of the building, nor cared to.
Washington Square Park is home to thousands of New York University Students, families leisurely strolling through the park on afternoons, people cooling off at the fountain during the summer, couples lounging on the green grass, and even home to the New York City Pillow Fight held during the summer. At the center of Greenwich Village, it provides an escape from the busy traffic and city surrounding it. Most importantly, it is home to the Washington Square Arch.
On my trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I decided to take my mother with me. While being in the museum, I decided to focus on “The American Wing”. In “The American Wing”, there are amazing pieces of art, jewelry, and antique silver. I was amazed on how each piece of artwork and item was carefully designed. They had an amazing design that you do not see now in days.
On June 9, 2003, my life took an interesting turn. It was a sunny day. Blue skies, humidity insanely high, and I found myself at 4th Street and Constitution in Washington, D.C. I stood before an angled architectural masterpiece by famed architect I.M. Pei; its pointed corners jutted out towards the grassy Mall and Capitol Hill as if it were some sort of Picasso-esque compass pointing simultaneously towards all the tourist hot spots. (The one corner, purportedly the sharpest building corner in the world, wore a dark gray spot about eye level where thousands if not millions of tourists had touched it just to see how sharp it really was). I found myself standing before it, not as tourist . . . but as an employee on my first day of work.
Washington, DC is a spectacular place. This being my first time in DC, I was in awe of everything and all the historical places I encountered. The presence of the monuments and history is what made the capitol so magnificent. Having only read about the Lincoln memorial, I never had the chance to experience the sensation of being inside such an honorable place of importance. The imposing white marble walls of the memorial and the many people surrounding it could be seen from afar. Arriving at the location, an unknown feeling came over me. I was experiencing history in a whole different level. When I think about a memorial, the term remembrance comes to mind. Seeing the statue of Abraham Lincoln brought pieces of memories from history class and evoked thoughts of what it might have felt like to be in his shoes. I was astonished by the statue’s enormousness and how grand Abraham Lincoln looked in his chair. The size of the statue compared to pictures from books and elsewhere was surreal. Abraham Lincoln was a very “powerful and prominent individual” in the history of our nation, the statue’s design and size reflected upon that. Looking around me, I wanted to know what the others thoughts were on seeing his statue and how they felt in that building. I finally had the courage to ask one or two people what they thought; they all had the same appreciation as me. Hearing about an important person or learning about them in a history book gives you vast knowledge but it doesn’t evoke the feeling of utter appreciation as the memorial does. When Abraham Lincoln was assassinated, many people wanted to build a memorial in honor of him. They wanted to be able to show how important he was to shaping our nation and to “honor his existence”. Ce...
Abraham Lincoln once said, "If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?" While his legend of honesty denies the fact that he is two-faced, Lincoln has accomplished achievements that reveal multiple sides to his character. Through examining text and visuals present at the monument, it is evident to see that the memorial also shows this. There are numerous amounts of artistic decisions that reveal deeper layers of symbolism, which give insight to Lincoln as a leader. The memorial commemorates Lincoln’s success through well thought out elements of design that relay logos, pathos, and ethos.
When I visited the museum, it had a wide variety of exhibits and artworks. It had two temporary Exhibits. The first temporary Exhibit I had the pleasure of seeing was Peter Max’s 50 Years of Cosmic Dreaming, which is on display from June 10th thru September 11th. Max was born in Berlin, but has lived in China, Israel, and finally the United States. Max was a rising star in the 1960s, with a passion for astronomy, sages and spiritual life. His work is strongly “associated with pop art, neo-fauvism, and abstract expressionism” (Peter Max). Max’s artwork contains multiple United States symbols and cultural icons. Symbols included the statue
‘Dear Doctor Tom Lawrence,’ read the letter, ‘Valley Forge needs more medics. As you are one of the top doctors in Pennsylvania, you have been recognized to help the troops. Your country needs you; history is happening.’
When contemplating the design of a monument or museum dedicated to a subject, an association should heavily focus on the message being shown through the structure. The Lincoln Memorial features two panels of speeches that relic Lincoln’s legacy, which feeds into the overall purpose of honoring Lincoln’s significant impact on America (Source A). Maya Lin designed a wall of names in the Vietnam Memorial, to give each and every individual respect and credit for their
Nearly four million people visited the Statue of Liberty in 2014. (National Parks of New York Harbor Conservancy) They were able to stand right in front of the statue themselves and get to experience the feeling of hope, justice, unity, and freedom that our accessories felt when they traveled to America from their home country. There are many theories on why France gave us the Statue. “Many Americans were suspicious of the gift statue and what the motives of its French donors were.” (Perea 46) , but also what the original design of the statue was. Its was to be said that “the original model for the Statue of Liberty was a black woman, but the design was changed to appease white Americans who would not accept an African- American Liberty” (Joseph,
I will admit it; I did not like Washington Square. That said, when I read the first line to Donald Hall's afterword, I felt like throwing the book away! "Everyone likes Washington Square" (220), HA! Well not me, Mr. Hall. I am not exactly sure why I kept on reading; maybe I was feeling a little masochistic that day! So, behold my surprise when I began to come across some of the author's words that expressed many of the thoughts that I had about the novel and its characters. Luckily, I did not have to read much before some of these ideas came into play.
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
Walking, there is no end in sight: stranded on a narrow country road for all eternity. It is almost dark now. The clouds having moved in secretively. When did that happen? I am so far away from all that is familiar. The trees are groaning against the wind’s fury: when did the wind start blowing? Have I been walking for so long that time hysterically slipped away! The leaves are rustling about swirling through the air like discarded post-it notes smashing, slapping against the trees and blacktop, “splat-snap”. Where did the sun go? It gave the impression only an instant ago, or had it been longer; that it was going to be a still and peaceful sunny day; has panic from hunger and walking so long finally crept in? Waking up this morning, had I been warned of the impending day, the highs and lows that I would soon face, and the unexpected twist of fate that awaited me, I would have stayed in bed.
I have seen and been to a few monuments in my life. The one that’s sticks out in my mind the most is my visit to the World Trade Center after the first bombing. I remember the first couple of floors were being worked on, and you couldn’t really walk pass the building. Still, it was a magnificent site to see. I must have looked like a tourist because my eyes were constantly focus on all the huge skyscrapers that surrounded me.
As I walked I let my eyes close and my feet feel the groove in the gravel. My mind, still asleep, dreamt of breathing. The lining of my father's old coat escaped inside the pockets and caught my fingers, which were numb from the cold. I would have worn gloves but the sun would be unbearable later in the day. The clouds would rise over the mountains and disappear and the birds would slowly become silent as the heat settled in. But for now it was just cold. I tried to warm my neck by breathing down the collar. It smelled like diesel and sweat.