Link to upload 6 word Memoir. Once you access Period 6 in Google Drive, go to the folder for 6 word memoirs and upload your .jpg file. If you need help converting a file to .jpg, please let me know. Do NOT upload .ppt or.doc files.
Listen to Luis Alberto Urrea's essay, "Life on the Mississippi." I think it helps to read the transcript while you're listening. Understand that Urrea did NOT grow up on the Mississippi. Read his short bio so that you'll understand what he's doing in the essay. (Luis Alberto Urrea, 2005 Pulitzer Prize finalist for nonfiction and member of the Latino Literature Hall of Fame, is a prolific and acclaimed writer who uses his dual-culture life experiences to explore greater themes of love, loss and triumph. Born in Tijuana, Mexico to a Mexican father and an American mother, Urrea has published extensively in all the major genres. The author of 13 books, Urrea has won numerous awards for his poetry, fiction and essays. Urrea lives with his family in Naperville, IL, where he is a professor of creative writing at the University of Illinois-Chicago.)
Both Alexie and Urrea (friends) describe the impact of books on their lives in unique ways. They also have an interesting approach to place.
Edward Abbey's 1968 classic, Desert Solitarire: A Season in the Wilderness, describes his time working as a park ranger in Moab. The first chapter begins
This is the most beautiful place on earth.
There are many such places. Every man, every woman, carries in heart and mind the image of the ideal place, the right place, the one true home, known or unknown, actual or visionary. A houseboat in Kashmir, a view down Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn, a gray gothic farmhouse two stories high at the end of a red dog road in the Allegheny Mountains, a cabin on the shore of a blue lake in spruce and fir country, a greasy alley near the Hoboken waterfront, or even, possibly, for those of a less demanding sensibility, the world to be seen from a comfortable apartment high in the tender, velvety smog of Manhattan, Chicago, Paris, Tokyo, Rio or Rome -- there's no limit to the human capacity for the homing sentiment. Theologians, sky pilots, astronauts have even felt the appeal of home calling to them from up above, in the cold black outback of intersteller [sic] space.
For myself I'll take Moab, Utah. I don't mean the town itself, of course, but the country which surrounds it - the canyonlands. The slickrock desert. The red dust and the burnt cliffs and the lonely sky -- all that which lies beyond the end of the roads.
What's your most beautiful place on earth? That's your blog post for this week. Write your own post; include at least one sentence that uses parallelism and underline it. No need to respond to anyone else's post, but I hope you'll read each other's work
For homework, please read ""Ladder" by Sven Birkerts on page 180 and the introduction to Narration on pp 93-100. Bring your Bedford Reader to class Tuesday.
Listen to Luis Alberto Urrea's essay, "Life on the Mississippi." I think it helps to read the transcript while you're listening. Understand that Urrea did NOT grow up on the Mississippi. Read his short bio so that you'll understand what he's doing in the essay. (Luis Alberto Urrea, 2005 Pulitzer Prize finalist for nonfiction and member of the Latino Literature Hall of Fame, is a prolific and acclaimed writer who uses his dual-culture life experiences to explore greater themes of love, loss and triumph. Born in Tijuana, Mexico to a Mexican father and an American mother, Urrea has published extensively in all the major genres. The author of 13 books, Urrea has won numerous awards for his poetry, fiction and essays. Urrea lives with his family in Naperville, IL, where he is a professor of creative writing at the University of Illinois-Chicago.)
Both Alexie and Urrea (friends) describe the impact of books on their lives in unique ways. They also have an interesting approach to place.
Edward Abbey's 1968 classic, Desert Solitarire: A Season in the Wilderness, describes his time working as a park ranger in Moab. The first chapter begins
This is the most beautiful place on earth.
There are many such places. Every man, every woman, carries in heart and mind the image of the ideal place, the right place, the one true home, known or unknown, actual or visionary. A houseboat in Kashmir, a view down Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn, a gray gothic farmhouse two stories high at the end of a red dog road in the Allegheny Mountains, a cabin on the shore of a blue lake in spruce and fir country, a greasy alley near the Hoboken waterfront, or even, possibly, for those of a less demanding sensibility, the world to be seen from a comfortable apartment high in the tender, velvety smog of Manhattan, Chicago, Paris, Tokyo, Rio or Rome -- there's no limit to the human capacity for the homing sentiment. Theologians, sky pilots, astronauts have even felt the appeal of home calling to them from up above, in the cold black outback of intersteller [sic] space.
For myself I'll take Moab, Utah. I don't mean the town itself, of course, but the country which surrounds it - the canyonlands. The slickrock desert. The red dust and the burnt cliffs and the lonely sky -- all that which lies beyond the end of the roads.
What's your most beautiful place on earth? That's your blog post for this week. Write your own post; include at least one sentence that uses parallelism and underline it. No need to respond to anyone else's post, but I hope you'll read each other's work
For homework, please read ""Ladder" by Sven Birkerts on page 180 and the introduction to Narration on pp 93-100. Bring your Bedford Reader to class Tuesday.