So, in design and draw we are doing a theme project where we make a collage of images that go with a theme of our choosing and this is what I came up with.

Now, I will state that a requirement of this project to avoid plagiarism is that after we trace them and begin shading, we have to shade them in completely different ways than the originals.

Time to start tagging. please don’t kill me

Just got 14.5/20 on an assignment I thought I’d barely pass, or even fail.

The tiny forested islands, Of Goat Island, Held the late-spring wedding. Cartoonishly perfect, It was destined to be disappointed. Buried in a matter of hours, In the bone-rattling power, Of the cascading water. The long-term hope from within, Went down 175 feet through a rock cliff. The antique ghost town, Now across the river, Is covered in thousands of noisy seagulls, Where perfect rainbows appear.

November 10, 2014

Here on the hill, out on my own. In younger years, fatherless. It mattered not to any was my fortune. My only friends, grasses. They too small to be any competition to my growth. Used to feel bad, for shading, for taking attention from the Mother. The beautiful Mother to us all, the sun. Some days I don’t know why She hides. Her warmth stolen, chilling and hurtful gusts. I don’t mind too much, the wind and rain do me good, and its always refreshing to feel Her warmth comforting me back to a productive day after I’ve been through with the weather. 

Lately I'm missing friends, the grasses. People have come to replace with rock, to pave and scotch the soil with their chemicals, and trash. I feel alone now. Some days better than others, little children play in my shade, the same shade I used to apologize. Children, they don’t seem to care, I feel. No understanding of my feelings. They claw and bite at my bole. Pealing, ripping. Don’t know how to make it stop, afraid they will cut and scratch so much I'l not eat. Not much left to eat any how. The soil is barren, withought the care of the grasses. 

Less wind lately, these buildings around me. I cannot breath. It does me no kindness when the people drive their cars around in circles coming and going as they may. Never looking, never seeing. I used to be the king, the only thing, around. Slave only to the wind, not even the lightening could keep me from my grace. True, it tried many a time, ever as I faltered never did I fall, never. No more seeing me as a threat to its dominance. All it does, battle the buildings. I feel as thought it too no longer sees me, not worthy of its contention. So hot lately, the flat rock the people prefer, is terrible, making it hot regardless of wether or time.

I have a project to do for my digital media class and I need some ascii art, which will be on this blog. The pictures can be anything but nothing inappropriate please!! You can submit as much as you want!! Submit box is open.

I've done some test pasting with using text post and it came out of place. Instead you may have to take a screenshot of it and crop the photo.