<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:54:25.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alaryce</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-4046859780492092667</id><published>2008-05-28T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T11:03:33.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Images</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2do9-FTrI/AAAAAAAAABw/EUYfOMT5G1A/s1600-h/picnic"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205490071465447090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2do9-FTrI/AAAAAAAAABw/EUYfOMT5G1A/s320/picnic" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Picnic on the Grass Alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Faith Ringgold &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2dMd-FTqI/AAAAAAAAABo/cq82SMl4_jA/s1600-h/ship"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205489581839175330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2dMd-FTqI/AAAAAAAAABo/cq82SMl4_jA/s320/ship" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Independence&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Samuel Walters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2c3N-FTpI/AAAAAAAAABg/jbl0UEvmtvM/s1600-h/writing+to+father.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205489216766955154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2c3N-FTpI/AAAAAAAAABg/jbl0UEvmtvM/s320/writing+to+father.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Writing to Father&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;1863&lt;br /&gt;Eastman Johnson, American, 1824–1906&lt;br /&gt;Oil on composition board&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2cQt-FToI/AAAAAAAAABY/NShcoSgrIGY/s1600-h/street+singer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205488555341991554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2cQt-FToI/AAAAAAAAABY/NShcoSgrIGY/s320/street+singer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Street Singer &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;about 1862&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Edouard Manet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oil on canvas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2by9-FTnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/LDvMwU2x-eE/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205488044240883314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2by9-FTnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/LDvMwU2x-eE/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Meditation by the Sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;early 1860s&lt;br /&gt;Unidentified artist, American, mid-19th century, American, mid-19th century&lt;br /&gt;Oil on canvas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-4046859780492092667?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/4046859780492092667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=4046859780492092667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/4046859780492092667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/4046859780492092667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/05/images.html' title='Images'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SD2do9-FTrI/AAAAAAAAABw/EUYfOMT5G1A/s72-c/picnic' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-9060020462035878378</id><published>2008-05-01T08:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T16:24:32.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming to America</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SBncoizxshI/AAAAAAAAABI/dBxaABTdGZ0/s1600-h/ellis-island-04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195426234245427730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SBncoizxshI/AAAAAAAAABI/dBxaABTdGZ0/s320/ellis-island-04.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Ours lives will never be the same. Today we packed up all our stuff and left. Our country is in bad shape. Everywhere I turn I see people begging for food and pleading for help. It is hard because people struggling with the same situations so it is difficult to find help. I look for work everyday, but there is no work available. I just do housework and hope that it will be enough to get by. We have to live day by day because we never know what will happen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My children cry all night long. They tell me that they're hungry. They're sick of eating stale and rotting bread. The taste is indescribable. It is hard and the after taste is so disgusting that there are no words I can use to try to explain it. I don't know what to do. Every single night my kids tell me that they miss their father. He was arrested when he got caught stealing. He didn't do anything wrong; he just wanted to feed his family. Everyone is stealing. There is no other way to get the food around here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;It is hard being the only adult in the house. I am so lonely. I miss my husband. I just want to talk to someone who understands me and  I do my best, but things are tough. My husband is not getting out anytime soon. The kids ask where he is, but I just say he is working for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;We got on the boat that is taking us to the country of hope. We are going to America. We need to start our lives over again. In America, people can find work and they can make their lives as successful as they can. I want to provide for my children and make sure they have opportunities. They will be able to make their own choices. I won't let them depend on anyone because that will get them no where. They will learn the importance of working for what they want, and accomplishing their goals without anyone's help. They will have the option to make something of themselves, which is something that I never had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-9060020462035878378?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/9060020462035878378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=9060020462035878378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/9060020462035878378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/9060020462035878378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/05/coming-to-america.html' title='Coming to America'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SBncoizxshI/AAAAAAAAABI/dBxaABTdGZ0/s72-c/ellis-island-04.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-518409354448214954</id><published>2008-04-16T08:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T08:43:04.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Narrative 3...revamped.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Someone&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;commented my previous blogged and suggested that I add to my narrative. I wasn't done before..now I am, and it has a catchy title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189868841872713826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SAYeNu6w6GI/AAAAAAAAAA4/8yAp1-yDUM8/s320/uhaul.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Today is the day,&lt;br /&gt;that I moved away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just blew out 19 candles. My cake is circular and full of layers. The first layer is pink and the second one is purple. The cake is yellow and tastes like vanilla. The icing says "Happy Birthday". The frosting is very fluffy and it takes very sweet. You guessed it. I am 18 years old today. I live in Aventura, Florida. I have spent my entire life here. This city just feels like home. I live next door to all of my best friends. I remember the days when we used to play in the park together on the red swings and we always went down the yellow slide. We loved the see-saw and playing hide and go seek. Now I think about these times and smile, but then I think about it and it makes me sad. I am worried about moving so far from my friends, but I know that we will always be friends even if we live very far from each other. Another thing that makes me feel like home is all of the noise and commotion that constantly occurs. I always hear cars as they pass by. I love living here because the weather is always nice, but I want and need a major change. I am slowly getting tired of the same daily routine that I take part in everyday. I wake up to the sun shining so brightly in my turquoise room. I enjoy a nice glass of iced tea that I sweeten with sugar and add lemon for a hint of extra flavor. I just finished high school so I work in the morning. When I get out of work I go to the beach or go to the Aventura mall because I love it there. I love all of the stores it has and the way that it is decorated inside. I am getting bored with the beach because the sand on my toes and the waves crashing on me get boring after years. I need a change, of climate and location. I am looking forward to the new things that I will soon experience. I want to wake up to snow on Christmas. I always picture myself curling up next to a fireplace while looking out the window watching the snow fall.All I can do is picture myself wearing cozy sweaters, scarves, gloves, and puffy coats that will keep me warm when it's frigid outside. I want the snowflakes to fall on me, so that I am completely covered in them. I want to lay in the snow and make snow angels. I am moving out today. I am nervous to leave home for the first time. I am afraid of going to college. I am getting ready to go to Vancouver. I can't believe I am moving to a different country! I have been studying French for years and it is good to know that all of that hard work I've put into practicing is meaningful and is actually going to help me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-518409354448214954?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/518409354448214954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=518409354448214954' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/518409354448214954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/518409354448214954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/04/narrative-3revamped.html' title='Narrative 3...revamped.'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/SAYeNu6w6GI/AAAAAAAAAA4/8yAp1-yDUM8/s72-c/uhaul.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-6873568294026188153</id><published>2008-04-14T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T06:46:06.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Community</title><content type='html'>My concept is kind of hard to come up with something to give back to the community. I don't know how I can give independence to the  town. I am thinking about surveying people about their future plans or something, but I'm not really sure. Any ideas or suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-6873568294026188153?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/6873568294026188153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=6873568294026188153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/6873568294026188153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/6873568294026188153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/04/community.html' title='Community'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-7090190835863316830</id><published>2008-04-14T06:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T06:44:36.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradox</title><content type='html'>I am simple, but I will confuse you.&lt;br /&gt;I am understanding, but I am stubborn.&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop talking, but I am speechless.&lt;br /&gt;I am your best friend, but I will drive you crazy.&lt;br /&gt;I know what I want, but I can't make up my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-7090190835863316830?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/7090190835863316830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=7090190835863316830' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/7090190835863316830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/7090190835863316830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/04/paradox.html' title='Paradox'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-2087214030930376809</id><published>2008-04-08T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T09:07:58.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Narrative 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/R_uUQ6LecEI/AAAAAAAAAAw/9fRnqtWXvlo/s1600-h/uhaul.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186902414063464514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/R_uUQ6LecEI/AAAAAAAAAAw/9fRnqtWXvlo/s320/uhaul.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I just blew out 19 candles. You guessed it. I am 18 years old today. I live in Aventura, Florida. I have spent my entire life here. This city just feels like home. I love living here because the weather is always nice, but I want and need a major change. I want to wake up to snow on Christmas. I always picture myself curling up next to a fireplace while looking out the window watching the snow fall.All I can do is picture myself wearing cozy sweaters, scarves, gloves, and puffy coats that will keep me warm when it's frigid outside. I want the snowflakes to fall on me, so that I am completely covered in them. I want to lay in the snow and make snow angels. I am moving out today. I am nervous to leave home for the first time. I am afraid of going to college. I am getting ready to go to Vancouver. I can't believe I am moving to a different country! I have been studying French for years and it is good to know that all of that hard work I've put into practicing is meaningful and is actually going to help me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-2087214030930376809?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/2087214030930376809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=2087214030930376809' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/2087214030930376809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/2087214030930376809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/04/narrative-3.html' title='Narrative 3'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/R_uUQ6LecEI/AAAAAAAAAAw/9fRnqtWXvlo/s72-c/uhaul.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-335917871570877726</id><published>2008-03-10T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T07:26:50.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Declaration</title><content type='html'>I chose Independence for my concept. I am fascinated by the things that people do on their own. In the dictionary Independence is defined as freedom from the control, influence, support, aid, or the like, of others. I think that independence is the perfect concept for me because it is a value that is very important to me in my everyday life. Everyone should realize how important it is to be independent and think for yourself. Independence is everywhere. The United States is an independent country because they do whatever they want. People that live in the United States have many rights compared to other countries. People are allowed to have a freedom of speech and live with their own values and morals. My mother is very independent because she had to do many things on her own, and that taught me to think and do things for myself. I am not saying that being dependent is a bad thing because that is just some people's personalities, but I think it can be a character flaw for a few reasons. One reason why being dependent can be bad is that people that are relied on can let people down. It isn't a good idea to be so dependent on someone else that you can't accomplish anything on your own. Another reason why I think dependence is a disadvantage is it doesn't allow people to grow and mature in the way that they should to adjust to the changes that occur in life. I also think I can find a lot of pictures and poems that relate to this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-335917871570877726?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/335917871570877726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=335917871570877726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/335917871570877726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/335917871570877726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-declaration.html' title='My Declaration'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-9057730471300399724</id><published>2008-03-04T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T08:56:16.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/R812aIv3bAI/AAAAAAAAAAo/yyOwkGV4pkM/s1600-h/american+flag+cookies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173921738315492354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/R812aIv3bAI/AAAAAAAAAAo/yyOwkGV4pkM/s320/american+flag+cookies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;          Oops, I spilled the flour all over the floor. I hope my mom and dad aren’t mad that I made a mess; I just want to surprise them. Today I decided to make them cookies by myself!  I am alone in my kitchen, wondering what I should do first. Should I preheat the oven, gather my supplies, or mix the ingredients? I am making homemade cookies for the first time. I rummage through my cabinets to get my ingredients. I need to find shortening, brown sugar, vanilla, flour, salt, and baking soda. I end up finding eggs, and milk in the refrigerator. I try to be neat when I mix everything, but end up making a mess. I take a break to clean up the mess. I look at my feet, and I can hardly recognize them because they’re covered in a big, white, powdery mess. I rush to the bath tub to wash off the flour then I change into new clothes. Now I am ready to continue baking.&lt;br /&gt;          I turn on the oven and wait for it to be heated to 375ºF.  I cut my cookies into heart shapes so that when I am done they will have the American flag on them. I want a heart because it shows my love for the USA. I am sitting there and the minutes feel like hours. I get bored so I start singing to myself to pass the time. I look at the clock, and realize that 4 minutes have passed, but it doesn’t seem to be enough. I decide to wash my utensils so I can be productive while I patiently wait. 10 minutes later my cookies are done. The pan is hot and the cookies need to cool off. I take them out of the oven and let them cool down. I know that I can’t put the icing on them until they are completely cool. I start to get excited because now I get to decorate the cookies. I take out my icing colors. I have red, white, and blue. I use the white as a base color, next I use the red to make the stripes, and then I add blue in the corner to show its significance in my heart. I make the white icing create stars that could have been used in the original flag design. I can’t believe how successful I was in making the cookies.&lt;br /&gt;          “Tasha, what did you do? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to use the oven without one of us in the room with you? Did you forget the rules again?” I could hear my mom and dad saying that in the back of my mind. I was expecting them to react in shock and make me feel like I did something wrong. I just wanted to do something on my own volition and surprise them.  My parents had reacted completely different despite my preconceived thoughts. My mom was so appreciative that she thanked me for hours. My dad kept telling me how delicious they were and he begged me to make more. I was so happy. I did something that I felt was right at the time, and it ended up being beneficial to me. My mom offered to take me to mother, daughter cooking classes. My first class is next week, and I can’t wait! (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-9057730471300399724?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/9057730471300399724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=9057730471300399724' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/9057730471300399724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/9057730471300399724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/03/oops-i-spilled-flour-all-over-floor.html' title=''/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gK9BIFa25f0/R812aIv3bAI/AAAAAAAAAAo/yyOwkGV4pkM/s72-c/american+flag+cookies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-1306807616287283061</id><published>2008-02-28T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T19:46:42.967-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Art Critique 1 (Self Portrait by Sofonisba Anguissola)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://72.5.117.144/fif=fpx/sc8/SC81958.fpx&amp;amp;obj=iip,1.0&amp;amp;wid=400&amp;amp;cvt=jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://72.5.117.144/fif=fpx/sc8/SC81958.fpx&amp;amp;obj=iip,1.0&amp;amp;wid=400&amp;amp;cvt=jpeg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Sofonisba Anguissola was known for her self portraits. She painted more self portraits than anyone else in her lifetime. She was from Italy. Her oil painting titled "Self Portrait" was created in 1556. She was very intrigued with the idea that she could paint herself so well, that she continued to do it.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This painting is very attention grabbing. The focal point is the woman (Sofonisba) holding a medallion looking while she is looking into a mirror. The image is a close up of her face and it is very detailed which makes it realistic. The viewer immediately sees the painter's facial expression, which can be interpreted as sadness because it lacks a smile, but it can also be seen as self confidence.  The writing on the medallion is very subtle, but it can be hard to decipher because the letters intertwine. The colors were chosen wisely. Her clothing choice is very simplistic, but it also shows that she is stylish. Her bracelet is also something that the viewer is drawn to because the silver contrasts with the green and black and it is easily seen. This piece is powerful because she uses good color schemes and it is seen from her prospective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Sofonisba was sitting one day and she decided to paint herself. She took out her oil paints and began to show the world what she sees when she looks in the mirror. Why did she decide to put the medallion in this picture? Does it have a special meaning to her life? She wanted to show her feminine side so she wore a bracelet. How do you think you would paint yourself? Do you think you see something different when you look in the mirror compared to when other people look at you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-1306807616287283061?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/1306807616287283061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=1306807616287283061' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/1306807616287283061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/1306807616287283061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/02/art-critique-1-self-portrait-by.html' title='Art Critique 1 (Self Portrait by Sofonisba Anguissola)'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-6287864911898847902</id><published>2008-02-04T13:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T13:48:43.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some lyrics that relate to my concept</title><content type='html'>"We could live in a house outside of town, we could build our own version of society, well...there'd be no one to answer to and complicate our lives, we could be the epitome of self sufficience. " - Incubus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I pay no mind to the negative kind cause it's just no way to be. I don't stop to please someone else you see. Gonna live my life for me. - Christina Aguilera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Throw your hands up to the sky, and scream I'm not alone. Is it irony or fate? Don't become what you hate. We've all got stardust in our bones." - Ben Harper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They'll look you in the eyes and stone you. Then turn and disown you, don't you let them take the fight outta you. They'll walk all over your name 'til they find someone else to blame, don't let them take thefight outta you. Secrets hide their lies inside hidden alibis, don't let them take the fight outta you. They put the world on a hook, it's worse every time I look. Don't let them take the fight outta you" - Ben Harper&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-6287864911898847902?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/6287864911898847902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=6287864911898847902' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/6287864911898847902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/6287864911898847902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/02/some-lyrics-that-relate-to-my-concept.html' title='Some lyrics that relate to my concept'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7853074875441676262.post-2735219645752165032</id><published>2008-02-04T05:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T06:11:26.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My concept</title><content type='html'>Independence: freedom from the control, influence, support, aid, or the like, of others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that independence is the perfect concept for me. I think that it is important to be independent and think for yourself. I also think I can find a lot of pictures and poems that relate to this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7853074875441676262-2735219645752165032?l=alaryceward.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/feeds/2735219645752165032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7853074875441676262&amp;postID=2735219645752165032' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/2735219645752165032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7853074875441676262/posts/default/2735219645752165032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alaryceward.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-concept.html' title='My concept'/><author><name>alaryce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16176441036548853995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
