My website is located at http://articia.50webs.com/music

I chose to create a website instead of a blog because it organized my content easier than a blog would have with my specified topic on music and memories. My goals for the website were to come up with a site that led the reader through some of my memories through listening to music, beginning with the music I was forced to listen to. I also wanted to show that I became an individual later on and could choose which music I liked to listen to. The reader might be intersted in this project because they like music and well, and may get a couple new bands or songs to listen to from this project. They might also relate to it because they had the same interests in music that I do.

To take advantage of the Web, I included links to the songs in the titles of the tracks so the reader could read the lyrics if they wanted to. I also linked to some of the band's websites so they could get a better idea of what the band is like. A limitation of the Web, I found out, is it is hard to choose pictures to portray a specific story or idea you may have. I ended up spending a lot of time searching for pictures that I thought fit the story. 

I liked doing the project. Once I picked out my layout, I was content with it and could create more content to spice the site up. I learned a lot about myself through this project - how I've changed and how one memory can spark the details for another couple memories. I see some of my music differently. The memories will be more vivid when I listen to the songs and artists I mentioned, rather than being at the back of my mind.

To craft my presentation of this topic, I designed a basic outline of the memories I was going to cover. When I wrote the content for the website, it branched out and more memories presented themselves than I originally planned.

After seeing the original layout I had (A notebook page) I decided to change it so that the text in the scrollbox was easier to read.

I think what made the project meaningful and interesting for me is that it was about music, one thing in my life that I am passionate about. I think the reader will also be interested because most people like music, and are interested in the music other people listen to.

To test this site, I went to the peer review session. The layout was different, but the content stayed the same. All the people that commented liked the content.

If I changed or added to this project, I would flesh out my stories to make them more detailed. I will probably continue to work on this project so that it is updated to what music has recentely affected in my life. I would also make it more chronological so it flows easier and reads more like a small section of my life.

I think this project made writing for the web harder for me, since it was hard to find images that fit my interests. If I had my own digital camera, I would try to take my own pictures so they are more similar to each other and are easier to fit my topic. One example is the lip gloss picture on Track 1. I couldn't find a picture of blueberry lip gloss, which would have been more effective to the project.

I am lost.

I'm walking in mud on the sidewalk outside by the park down the street. The yellow, plastic rainboots sink into the quicksand effect. I tilt my neck back. My head's toward the sky, but my eyes are closed and take in the feeling of having to shield my eyes from nothing but weak sunlight. I pray to the clouds that it never stops raining.

Cough syrup and nightmares of last night weren't fictional; weren't contained within 15 pages between pieces of hard carboard with designs on them. The blankets were heavy and my arms weren't there. Eyeliner streaked under my eyes from tears of absence and fear. I moved them and they were above me, but they were just above me- unfathomable. My eyes saw the time, but all I could see was those minutes approaching 9:00. Please stop raining.

The window is closed, but the pitter-patter lines the streets, and I am higher above the ground than I'd like to be. I gulp.

Last year felt like five years worth of memories, and this year feels like they've been divided by zero.

I am less confident now that the sugar-water concoction is lower than half-full and crystals are forming on the string. There's something about absence that makes me remember yesterdays and forget the present. I remembered. I am constantly forgetting. It's a cycle that paints itself in dark acrylics over the canvas of everything I used to remember.


Here is what I was aiming for:

Precious are the kisses around my neck, but they suddenly make me feel heavier than the gravity that sinks to the bottoms of my body and pulls my spirit off of the bed, still connected at the toes. I'm slipping into the rug and flow through to the ground level; carpet fibers, splinters, random body parts, and snippets of conversations adhere to my memory. Gravity pulls me like a needle through the world. I briefly reach the surface of the other side (5 inches above a lawnmower), skimming to my right 5 inches, then I am pulled back through. Tighter, tighter is the strength of the pull. And through, finally.

I end up among constellations at the speed of light. I reach my fingers for a star, and catch on. I hug the object in determination, while gravity ties the knot of my spirit-string through my heart. "And here," they say, "is the 3-dimensional representation of infinity" as they gaze through a telescope at a figure-eight on its side, primarily green and blue. It stands alone in the sky in this moment, simply existing.

"Once in a blue moon" a man looks toward the sky "we see a red object that makes this phenomenon possible." A boy focuses his telescope on a heart-shaped knot that holds infinity together.

{I was thinking about drawing this out.}

(Finally getting some inspiration)

I don't really have much to write about. I think I will write one of the stories I have to do for my website due on Tuesday, and see how that goes.

Robert was I guy who watched me from under the stairs from the third day of my senior year in high school, when I was 17 and he was 15. He hung out underneath the stairwell, like some of the goth kids usually did, although he wore tight girl pants with wire-rimmed glasses, and a cartoon shirt. He hung out with a tall, blonde chick who had a unique style. Her name was Tiffany, I later found out, and she transferred to night school after a month of attending normal school.

Robert was a friend I never met until the third month of school, whilst outside Louie’s Pizza, near Boulder Street. This Louie’s Pizza was remodeled, and at a different location than the one I met Leanne in, however, since they took about a three months break to change the location so it was slightly closer to the school, and near more shops who actually got business. I used to walk the streets with my eyes searching for Robert, since he always seemed to have his eye out for me.

I was searching on MySpace for people who attended my school one Sunday. I soon stumbled upon his page, recognizing his face immediately. He had some blogs posted with stories in them. They were poetic-like and appealed to my senses. I wrote a quick message about how amazing his writing was over the course of an hour, deleting lines here and there so I didn’t sound too much of an idiot. I closed my eyes, hovering the mouse cursor over the “Send” button. I hesitated, holding my breath, then clicked the left mouse button. I closed the browser window quickly, not wanting to see the screen reminding me that I had just sent the message.

Later that same Sunday, my heart pounded hot blood as I went back to the computer and logged in to my account again. The red message icon appeared on the left side of the screen, showing me that I had a new message. I also had a friend request, which I found out was him. I paused before opening the message, my heartbeats probably audible across the room. His message was quite brief, but it was a message nonetheless. He told me to say hi to him someday since he knew he had seen me around before, and he also thanked me for the positive words on his writing, and told me to add him back as a friend. He didn’t think he was good, but I thought he had some interesting stories to tell.

I saw him the next day, and before making complete eye contact with him, I recollected my senses and took a big breath inward. I made my way to where he was sitting, which was against the brick wall outside of Louie’s Pizza. I smiled nervously, then said a shy, “Hi.” He said “Hi” back, grinning slightly, a blush peeking out on his cheeks. I sat down next to him, asking why he was alone. He said his friends never really arrived until the second half of lunch since they skated in Acacia Park. We talked about school, and which classes we liked. He said he wanted to try some Art classes, and I told him not to bother with one of the teachers since he wasn’t very supportive. He said his friends wanted to start up a band, but they didn’t have enough money for instruments. I told him I wrote the lyrics for a band, but they weren’t any good since they weren’t even bothering to get instruments. We talked for the rest of the lunch period, the walked back to the school, where we parted for classes. I told him I’d be out front after school, and we could hang out more then.

Robert was a friend I held dear to my heart, although we hardly talked after that first time. We didn’t have classes together since he was a sophomore and I was a senior. He introduced me to several bands and I gave him my own recommendations, and found MySpace as a good communication place, since I lived about thirty minutes away from his house and couldn’t hang out at the time since I only had my driver’s permit.

I talked to Robert over the Internet until last year, but we gradually stopped talking since I was rarely on AIM and he’s been dating his girlfriend for over a year. I still send him messages from time to time, however, and consider him a friend that’s lost its touch. I told Carina about how I met him, since she was interested, and she always used to tease me about it. Carina and I went to a Spill Canvas concert and saw Robert there, but he was with his girlfriend and I didn’t feel like introducing myself. I danced my way to the front of the stage, while a blonde-haired girl named Carina walked behind me.

This will be long since I'm going to tell the story of Thursday morning, which hence explains the exclusion of my presence in CO302 class that day.

September and October haven't been the best of months. On October 25th, 2007 (a day I won't forget for a while, at least)I left the Westfall/Durward Parking lot at around 8:45 a.m., turning right onto Laurel Street. I was dressed up in black, the most I have dressed up since summer, or maybe graduation 2006. I turned on College, went left on Mulberry, turned right on South Mason St., then tried to find myself some parking space in Old Town. I had repeated this process many times the previous day, October 24th, so I wasn't too anxious about the time. I found myself the parking spot somewhere on Mountain at sometime after 9:00 a.m.. Two hour parking would leave me with sometime after 11:00 a.m. without getting ticketed.

I headed down the street and eventually found LaPorte. 201 LaPorte, Suite 100 is what the blue ticket told me. I asked where 201 was to a lady with some Fort Collins attire on. She asked me again, along with what color ticket I had. I said 201 and blue. She pointed me to the big building on my left, across the street. I thanked her, then nervously approached the building. When I entered it, a guy with greying hair took my bag and made me walk through the metal detector, while asking if I still had anything metal on. At least he had some humor at this hour in the morning. I still had the blue ticket out in my hand, trying to wave it at him. I was lost. He told me that Suite 100 was down the hall to my right.

I approached the direction hesitantly, sitting on the benches because I thought I had to wait until 10 a.m. to go inside. It was probably 9:20 a.m. by this point. Several people came to the same area and opened the doors. I saw a long line of people standing and many more sitting in chairs. I went inside and proceeded to the check-in area. They gave me a sheet after I told them my last name ("What an interesting name!") and said to read and sign it, following the directions on the screen that kept flashing different information on the big wall behind me. So much for being early. I could have gone to class if I'd known I didn't have to be on time for this. I headed to the pen area, feeling a bit ridiculous in my skirt since half the people hadn't bothered to dress up, and signed the paper after glancing at some of the information it contained. I sat down somewhere underneath this area, by several older people with glasses and greying hair. I felt a bit young, since I was among three other people around my age, so far. 10:00 came and went. I still wasn't called. I went outside for a little while, and took a bathroom break. I went back in the room and waited a little longer, then took another break. I came back and sat down. It was around 10:30 a.m. by this point in time. A minute passed, then they called my name loudly.

I followed the guy who called my name into the room. They didn't close the door. I glanced at the guy, and noticed he resembled Rob Lowe. I sat down with the now-folded piece of signed paper in front of me. He said, "Hello, my name is (blank)" (I really don't remember it). "How are you today? Since you're 19, there's not much we can do."

Okay, I thought. 

He checked off some boxes on the sheet in front of him. "Your driver's license has 3 months revocation until you do these things." He pointed briefly to the items next to the checked boxes.

I looked at him, then said, "Okay..."

"You will have to complete 24 hours of community service and an alcohol class..."

Oh great, another fucking alcohol class.

"...at which point you can pay the 250 dollar fine."

At this point I was staring at the paper, wondering what part of this had an "or" in it. Chris had told me there would be a 250 dollar fine or 24 hours of community service for an MIP.

"Since you're 19 there's not much we can do. All minors in possession cases get tacked with this when it's their first offense. Lighten up!"

'Lighten up' my ass. I waited another 30 minutes until the receptionist called my name. This would cut me close to another parking ticket. I already had one about a month earlier. While waiting for my name to be called, I saw a guy I saw in the detox center in Greeley. Yay, a familiar face, and the familiar expression of "What the hell did I just get tacked with, and why is it so much?"

The receptionist told me the same thing as the guy did, only summarized. Then she said, "Fifty-one dollars in court fees is due to the court office by 5:00 p.m. today." As if I weren't already in a horrible mood at all of the other news.

I walked to my car, not really caring enough about the revocation on my license at the time, since I would have myself a parking ticket in a matter of minutes anyway. The cops were patrolling the area, ticketing cars in front of shops. In no time they would have discovered mine, no doubt about that. Driving semi-carefully, given the mood I was in, I almost got lost because the whirlwind of thoughts was wondering how I was going to manage the rest of this semester on top of all the other shit CSU was making me do - another alcohol class, another counseling session, plus a ton of shit to get me out of holds on registration, on top of paying an additional 185 dollars for detox stay in Greeley for no apparent reason except to sober up. What the hell? That still bothers me: Poudre Valley Hospital couldn't have let me stay one night? And why doesn't Fort Collins have one nearby CSU? I'm pretty sure we're in need of it just as much, maybe even more so, than Greeley.

Anywho, the lesson learned for me is to not drink alcohol in dorms unsupervised (or supervised by rowdy people) since CSU residential life makes you suffer the consequences, and then some. Basically, do what you've been doing and make sure you don't get caught doing it. I just know that the fines alone are killing me. I definitely don't have enough to pay them off right now. This stuff is still biting me in the ass and I got the ticket on September 11th, 2007, more than a month ago. I'm not going to see the end of this for a while, as I still have a scheduled spat by my parents.

An object I have grown fond of since last December is a simple grey bag I own, handwoven out of 100% pure cotton. It has a rough, ribbed texture, and has been extremely durable. I used to use it as a replacement backpack because it can sling around my shoulder and can carry about two or three classes worth of notebooks. The day I bought this bag, I was with my best friend, at the time, and we went around downtown Colorado Springs by Palmer High School and shopped for random things. We ended up looking at the bookstore, Independent Records (where I got a .Moneen. CD, as well as AFI’s Answer that and Stay Fashionable CD), as well as the Tibet store next to Starbucks.

It was at the Tibet store where we spent time searching for incense, trinkets, and bags. I found some decent bags, but narrowed it down between the grey bag and one that was striped with white, black, green, and dark grey. I ended up not buying the other one because it had too much colour and because it reminded me of a guy at CSU who lived in my dorm that I was trying to avoid. The funny thing about that is, we ended up dating from January to March of the Spring 2007 semester until he went back to Missouri.

The object has been with me through most of the exciting parts of my college life, and I doubt I will discard of it since I usually cling on to things with meaning. I think I remember certain things, like shopping for the bag, more because of the bag. It marked a place in my life when I was really good friends with my former best friend, and now we don't talk anymore. I guess that was the point where I transitioned from who I was in high school and the first semester of college to who I am now. I've changed from relying on her to finding new people to be friends and relax with.

If I lost this object, I would be extremely sad because it carries sentimental value for me. I always lose wallets and purses that I like and am saddened for a while. I think this bag would be different, though, because it was more expensive (around 35 dollars) and does create a story for me. The simplicity is something I rarely find in bags similar to it. The simplicity also says a lot about me. I feel that I am a simple person, and I guess that is one way I express that trait.

(This is late because I got wrapped up in telling the story)

I clicked random blogs to see what I could write about this week and found Rachel's blogs on The Spill Canvas. I first heard of this band in September 2005 on a certain MySpacer's profile. I knew him in real life, as well, but I didn't know of his musical interests other than online. He built a lot of my musical library because we liked similar bands. I remember being introduced to The Early November through their song "Ever So Sweet", The Photo Atlas, The Kinison through "You Kissed Lily", and Matchbook Romance through "Tiger Lily".

The first The Spill Canvas song I heard was "Sunsets and Car Crashes". I was a sernior at the time. I fell in love with the song when I first heard it, and remember listening to it on repeat the first day I heard it. I was inspired many a time by the song. I downloaded the rest of the album off SoulSeek, and loved every last song. I bought the albums "Sunsets and Car Crashes" and "One Fell Swoop" after listening to their music nonstop for weeks.  After I bought it, I blasted it in Art class with Henry, my best friend at the time. He didn't really like the music, but still listened to it. He wondered why I knew all the lyrics and I told him I downloaded it before I bought it.

Later on in 12th grade, Carina and Alexis also liked the band. "Valiant" was one song we liked, and I still get messages from Alexis with lyrics from the song, even though we've lost touch. Other songs I fell in love with over time were "Self-Conclusion", "Natalie Marie And 1CC", "All Hail The Heartbreaker", & "The Tide".

I saw them in concert last year at the Black Sheep in Colorado Springs. They played with a local band I absolutely love called A Novel Form, and I LOVED that night. I was in the front row, and everytime they had to change stuff with the sound system, Dan would walk up to where I was at. I remember visiting myspace.com/anovel form and seeing myself in the picture. Nick and Dan dimmed the lights and were the only ones on the stage for "Self-Conclusion". That was a truly amazing moment in my life, and I can't remember when singing along to a song felt better. I took pictures of that, as well as after every other song they performed. I danced practically the whole night in my skirt and recently dyed and spiked hair. I think this was before I had a lip ring, but I'm not sure. "Lust a Prima Vista" was such a lively song, and almost everyone was dancing. I remember seeing the guy that introduced me to the band at the show. I remember A Novel Form getting on stage and taking a ton of pictures of them. I sung along to the songs they had released, and listened to the ones that I didn't know. After the show, I got a poster and met Dan outside. He signed the poster, and I was practically melting by that point - heart racing, brain pumping after dancing the whole night. I had Psych class after that day, but driving back to Fort Collins at 2:30 AM was absolutely worth it. I don't think I'll ever forget that night, and I hope they return to the Black Sheep someday. I keep a watch out on them, but haven't seen them listed there yet.

Yesterday I watched Bleach most of the day. Bleach is a really great anime series. The English version on Adult Swim isn't that great, but the ones in Japanese with English subtitles are great. We got the new Wii Bleach game from Best Buy and it's alright. I haven't watched too much of the series...about 40 episodes out of 140-something and most of the game is for people who are in the series later than season 2. Last year whilst in Westfall I met this girl named Kat who recommended this anime series. She also watched Love Hina, which I loved at the time...still love it now too. I rarely see or talk to the girl, but I am grateful that she mentioned the series. I had seen the episodes on YouTube before, but they looked like any other anime series, so I wasn't sure if I should watch it. I got into the series over the summer and watched about 6 episodes yesterday. It's a great series, but I wish I had more time to watch it. I'm downloading them to my computer from stage6.divx.com because they have some really awesome quality versions of the show, and I've seen them delete a lot of the episodes.

Collective Blog Entry on:
"Short Assignments", "Shitty First Drafts", "Getting Started", and "Perfectionism" by Anne Lamott
"How to Write with Style" by Kurt Vonnegut
Writing Advice from Amy Tan
"Begin" and "Bad Writing" by Julia Cameron

"Short Assignments" by Anne Lammott contained helpful advice from E.L. Doctorow, which was "writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way." Lammott says, "[y]ou just have to see two or three feet ahead of you." I've never heard anyone say this to me before. Some of the most professional-sounding authors I read (both published on the web and in print) advise me or their general reading audience to outline their writing so they know the beginning and the end, and everything in-between. I've outlined my writing once or twice and got so bored of the plot and writing the actual details of the story that I never finished the story. I think that's the fun of writing - to not know where you end up, but end up wherever you are when you get there. It's easier for me to develop a character if I develop them as I write rather than know they're going to end up turning themselves into somebody completely different when I start writing the story.

"Shitty First Drafts" by Lammott addresses how writers write drafts because they can branch out on their ideas later, and because no one will see this, just the final draft. Sometimes I can write and write and write for pages and not go anywhere. I usually stare at a sentence or half of a page for a while and read it over and over, and think to myself this isn't working so I delete the writing I spent ten minutes on and start over. Sometimes this gets me nowhere for a day, but other days I have an epipheny of some sort or my muse kicks in and I can write for the next hour without really stopping or pausing for another idea. I used to believe that I never had drafts of my writing. I started reading my poems with a more critical eye and realized I've built on many of the same concepts, used many of the catchiest & wittiest lines, similar writing styles/breaks, in a recent poem that I used in one I wrote two or three years ago. I think writing well takes a lot of criticism and practice. Most of the criticism comes from ourselves, too, especially if we're too afraid to let someone else read our work. It's important to remember that no one will see the drafts, unless we let them, because sometimes this affects us more than we know. Sometimes it really does feel like someone's over your shoulder, and you're not writing for yourself.

Anne Lammott has very detailed descriptions in every one of her writing pieces. I enjoyed reading "Getting Started" because this is what I used to do to write - remember what my childhood was like and how I can possibly change some aspects around to make it more like what I want to write about for a half-hour, at the least. I used to do what Lammott mentioned in the article: write at approximately the same time each night. Sometimes I would write even earlier if I had an especially emotional experience, but I would try to keep the same schedule from 9th grade in high school and on. From 9th-12th grade I usually started writing at arounf 9:30 p.m. and would continue until midnight, sometimes without pausing. I hardly do this anymore, but I hope I will eventually get into the habit of doing it because it helped relieve unneeded stress.

Lammott offers interesting ideas in "Perfectionism", mainly saying that perfectionism is a hard obstacle to stray away from. Drafts certainly help us stray away from thinking we have to make it perfect. I usually just write as entertainment, as a hobby, and don't try to make it filled with correct grammar because it limits my concentration on the main idea of what I am writing. I usually edit the grammar later or keep it as it is because sometimes it fits better if all of the poem is lowercase. I mess around with rhyming, and sometimes making words in a certain line all end in -"ing" or -"tion". I think it's more about creativity than anything else. Sometimes we shouldn't be truthful because it takes out the fun of the writing process, and sometimes it's interesting to look at a certain scene in someone else's point of view.

"How to Write with Style" by Kurt Vonnegut offers several sections of advice for writers, including "sound like yourself", "find a subject you care about", "have the guts to cut", and "pity the readers". I think his advice is crucial to writing for an audience, because the audience wants to relate with what you have to say. If they can't relate with what you have to say, then they won't want to read what you have to say. It's hard to appreciate some of the literature I have read without tools like SparkNotes, but I am grateful of these things because they make me understand what the writer wanted me to grasp a little easier. Sometimes I have an entirely different take on what a writer wanted to say, but I usually use this to my advantage in essays so it's more creative. It's also important to "find a subject you care about", as I have discovered. When I care about someone I can usually write anything I want to toward them and this makes it more like a conversation between me and the audience.

Writing Advice from Amy Tan was short, but went over a lot of the general things to avoid in writing. Clichés and generalizations usually can be expanded on and made more creative. Maybe instead of what usually happens, twist the story somehow so something else happens - something beyond a generalization or the obvious, so you have to explain it and visualize it yourself.

Julia Cameron's advice in "Begin" and "Bad Writing" reminded me of Anne Lammott's advice. Writing in a paper is different than writing for fun, and most teachers frown upon trying to use poetic style devices in essays. The example of the woman who dressed in a good outfit with an "outlandish something" was one I particularly remember. Most writing I read sounds the same, but there is a little something that makes it unique, and usually fits with the writing.

Last week was a blur. The weekend was pretty much TV and sleep, and last minute homework attempts. The most notable thing about last week for me was finally being able to enjoy the continuation of the new South Park season. I enjoyed the episode, and it seems that's the only show I look forward to as of late. It was a really long wait, though. I think the last episode was in March, and the new ones are only airing now. I watched all of the previous seasons last year over a span of a couple months, mainly between classes and on the weekends. I finished them earlier, probably in April or May, and waited until last Wednesday to continue the wait for the next episode.

My weekend went well. I played Halo 3 with James on Friday night which was relaxing. We watched Family Guy and a ton of other shows and films. I stayed up until about 5 in the morning and then slept, got up at about 2 yesterday.

Yesterday was really fun. After James got off work we went to David, Sarah, and some other guy's apartment and "watched" The Devil's Advocate. I woke up with a sore head so I took Advil and basically have been checking MySpace all day, and listening to music.

I got an 80 on the Physics test which surprised me because I had no idea if I passed or not. The year is looking up so far, so hopefully I can continue putting the good grades in.

I also have Oreos now, which I was having a craving for a couple hours. Well, I'm about to play the Wii and then probably sleep.