Tuesday, January 28, 2020

Modern Figurative Art Essay Example for Free

Modern Figurative Art Essay The artists used darker colours from the 1830s to the 1860s, and the main subject of the paintings were simple portraits of significant people or self portraits of the artists themselves. As you move further through the sections, there are more scenic and historical paintings, as well as paintings showing everyday situations of the time. I found interesting the amount of landscape/nature paintings, as well as paintings depicting life in Canada in their respective time periods. By the end, we get the more expressionits and abstract paintings that get larger in size as time progressed. Finding Meaning in Art  Ã‚  Art asks us to find our own meaning at times. Find the large work Pavane by Canadian artist Jean-Paul Riopelle in gallery A111.  (a) How is the artist trying to convey meaning?  I think Riopelle is trying to convey meaning in the work by using three very large canvases and a wide variety of colours to attract the viewers attention. When you walk into the room the enormous size of the painting get your attention immediately. The three sections are divided for a reason finding in the middle the widest spectrum of colours and other less stand out colour in the surroundings. A very abstract painting, you can tell alot of effort and time has been put into Pavane. (B)What is your interpretation of Pavane?  It took me a long while to try to understand Pavane, I couldnt really see past the simple strips of coloured paper, and the huge size of the painting, then after a couple of minutes of studying and walking around it I began to notice how the main colours are in the center and arent just thrown into the painting randomly, it is very different to the other paintings in the room so I thought perhaps Riopelle was trying to make this piece more modern than the other pieces of work of the time. Trying to be different and to stand out as an artist, just like the colours in Pavane, to be the center of the art world. When I researched Pavane online, I found that it was partially true, because after making this painting he became very successful in the cultural scene.  Nature, Mathematics and Art  After you are through gallery A114, go into the garden. There is a metal piece of art which looks like DNA. You are allowed to play with this if you choose. Look at the plants more closely.  Ã‚  (a) Is nature itself art? If so, does that mean everything is art? Nature is not art, but is the basis of it, its there so we can turn it into our own personal interpretation of it. Its when a human takes nature and creatively does something with it so that it influences and affects the senses, emotions, and/or intellect that it actually becomes art. Human intervention is what makes Art, Art.  (b) Do you think computers can create REAL art on their own, or are people required to create art? Computers cannot create art because they are incapable of having emotions and to convey meaning to a work of art. Besides, computers are made my man, so if a computer creates art, it is because a human has programmed the computer to able to create it.  Architecture  Next to the fern garden is the now reconstructed Rideau Street Convent Chapel. Sit in it for a moment to rest.  (a) Do you think this chapel has a rightful place in an art gallery? Why or why not?  I think the chapel doesnt have a rightful place in the art gallery because even though its very pretty and decorative I found it to be too modern for my liking, and also didnt have much to do with what the subjects in the previous rooms were. There was religion influence in the some paintings but in the majority. It would be conveniently placed in a section that includes more religious sculptures and works of art. (b) What qualities do you think buildings need to be called good architecture?  Good architecture is a building intentionally done to communicate a certain message and that took a lot of hard work and thought into making. If it is creating solely to serve a purpose it is not art, but if it also has an idea or a message built into it, its when it becomes art.  (c) Excluding Parliament Hill, Chateau Laurier, Supreme Court of Canada, the National Gallery of Canada, museums, or any other government building Name one building in Ottawa you consider art and one building you think is not art. Explain. I found the Notre Dame Cathedral very impactful when I first got here, I think its art because it was built not just as a church but to evoke a religious response from people, the originality of the silver material its made from make it an attractive and artistic structure.  A building that is not art would be just a regular ScotiaBank office building, this is because of many reasons, there was no emotion or idea put into it, its is not attractive of artistic in any way and there are many of these in almost every Canadian city, which takes out its originality.

Monday, January 20, 2020

Steroid Use in Major League Baseball Essay -- Sports Drugs Steroids Ba

Steroid Use in Major League Baseball Steroids are unhealthy for baseball players and they are giving the game of baseball a bad reputation. Since steroids have become such a hot topic in Major League Baseball (MLB) fans have had nothing but bad things to say about the sport and its players. When sports illustrated asked some of its readers to give reaction to the steroid controversy in the MLB here is what baseball fan Howard Langsner from New York had to say 'Horrible, just horrible. We take Olympic medals away from athletes on steroids, but we're supposed to look the other way in MLB because a guy can make the ball go further? Drug testing is commonplace everywhere, and used in other sports, as the article mentioned. Baseball should be no different'. Matt Bookman of San Jose, California writes 'That's it. I'm done as a baseball fan until MLB has a comprehensive drug testing policy. I feel so naive. I really thought that the players had gotten bigger and stronger because they had learned the value of hitting the wei ght room and staying in shape during the off season. It breaks my heart that I won't be able to give my children the same experience I had growing up -- to go to the ballpark and feel good about your guys and cheer on your team.' The fans reaction speaks for itself but MLB should not sit back and let steroids take over a game that was at one time America?s pastime. In this paper research will be given on what exactly are anabolic steroids and how they can affect your body, testing policies, the effectiveness of steroids on players and major league baseball. There are many different kinds of steroids but anabolic steroids are the ones most commonly used by pro baseball player. Anabolic steroids are synthetic ... ... It takes no fool to realize that without the fans there is no professional baseball. The fans who are the ones who pay the salaries of the players who in all honesty said Canseco is why players are doing steroids, to make the game more exciting with homeruns. In this paper research was given to prove that steroids are unhealthy for baseball players and giving the game of baseball a bad reputation. MLB is losing their fan base and good name due to the use of anabolic steroids. In the end baseball with suffer the consequences if this problem is not handled quickly and efficiently Bibliography Haley, J.(eds.).(2003). Performance-enhancing drugs. San Diego, Ca: Greenhaven Press. Levine M, H.(eds).(2000). Why are Steroids so ?Big?. Austin, Tx: Greenhaven Press. Bodely, H. (2005, January 12). Baseball announces tougher steroid policy USA Today, 23, 37.

Sunday, January 12, 2020

Night World : Black Dawn Chapter 19

â€Å"The hunt of your lives,† Hunter Redfern said. Hewas standing handsome and erect, smiling easily. The nobles were gathered around him, and Maggieeven saw some familiar faces in the crowd. That rough man from Delos's memories-the one who grabbed his arm, she thought dreamily. And the woman who put the first binding spell on him. They were crowded in the courtyard, their faceseager. The first pale light was just touching thesky-not that the sun was visible, of course. But it was enough to turn the clouds pearly and cast aneerie, almost greenish luminescence over thescene below. â€Å"Twohumans,a witch, and a renegade prince,†Hunter proclaimed. He was enjoying himself hugely, Maggie could tell. â€Å"You'll never have another chance at prey like this.† Maggie gripped Delos's hand tightly. Shewasfrightened butatthesame time strangely proud. If the nobles around Hunter wereexpecting their prey to cower or beg, they were going to be disappointed. They were alone, the four of them, in a littleempty space in the square. Maggie and Aradia and Jeanne in their slave clothes, Delos in his leggingsand shirtsleeves. A little wind blew and stirredMaggie's hair, but otherwise they were perfectly still. Aradia, of course, was always dignified. Just nowher face was grave and sad, but there was no sign of anger or fear in it. She stood at her full height,her huge clear eyes turned toward the crowd, as if they were all welcome guests that she had invited. Jeanne was more rumpled. Her red hair was disheveled and her tunic was wrinkled, but there wasa grim smile on her angular face and a wild battlelight in her green eyes. She was one prey that wasgoing to fight, Maggie knew. Maggie herself was doing her best to live up tothe others. She stood astall as she could, knowing she would never be asimpressive as Aradia, or as devil-may-care as Jeanne, but trying at least to look asif dying came easy to her. Delos was magnificent. In his shirtsleeves, he was more of a prince thanHunter Redfern would ever be. He looked at thecrowd of nobles who had all promised to be loyalto him and were now thirsting for his blood-and he didn't get mad. He tried to talk to them. â€Å"Watch what happens here,† he said, his voicecarrying easily across the square. â€Å"And don't forgetit. Are you really going to follow a man who cando this to his own great-grandson? How long is itgoing to be before he turns on you?Before you findyourselves in front of a pack of hunting animals?† â€Å"Shut him up,† Hunter said. He tried to say it jovially, but Maggie could hear thefuryunderneath. And the command didn't seem to make much sense. Maggie could see the nobles looking at each other-who was supposed to shut him up, and how? â€Å"There are some things thatt have to be stopped,† Delos said. â€Å"And this man is one of them. I admitit, I was willing to go along with him-but that was because I was blind and stupid. I know betternow-and I knew better before he turned againstme. You all know me. Would I be standing here,willing to give up my life for no reason?† There was the tiniest stirring among the nobles. Maggie looked at them hopefully-and then herheart sank. They simply weren't used to thinking for themselves, or maybe they were used to thinking only of themselves. But she could tell there wasn't material for a rebellion here. And the slaves weren't going to be of any help,either. The guards had weapons, they didn't. Theywere frightened, they were unhappy, but this kind of hunt was something they'd seen before. Theyknew that it couldn't be stopped. â€Å"This girl came to us peacefully, trying to keepthe alliance between witches and vampire,† Deloswas saying, his hand on Aradia's shoulder. â€Å"And inreturn we tried to kill her. I'm telling you rightnow, that by spilling her innocent blood, you're allcommitting a crime that will come back to hauntyou.† Another little stirringamong women, Maggie thought. Witches, maybe? â€Å"Shut him up,† Hunter said, almost bellowing it. And this time he seemed to be saying it to a specific person. Maggie followed his gaze and saw Sylvia near them. â€Å"Some beasts have to be muzzled before they canbe hunted,† Hunter said, looking straight at Sylvia.†So take care of it now. The hunt is about to begin.† Sylvia stepped closer to Delos, a little uneasily.He stared back at her levelly, as if daring her towonder what he'd do when she got nearer. â€Å"Guards!† Hunter Redfern said, sounding tired. The guards moved in. They had two differentkinds of lances, a distant part of Maggie's mindnoted. One tipped with metal-that must be for humans and witches-and one tipped with wood. For vampires, she thought. If Delos wasn't careful, he might get skewered in the heart before thehunt even began. â€Å"Now shut his lying mouth,† Hunter Redfernsaid. Sylvia took her basket off her arm. â€Å"In the new order after the millennium, we'llhave hunts like this every day,† Hunter Redfernwas saying, trying to undo the damage that hisgreat-grandson had done. â€Å"Each of us will have a city of humans to hunt. A city of throats to cut, acity of flesh to eat.† Sylvia was fishing in her basket, not afraid tostand close to the vampire prince since he was surrounded by a forest of lances. â€Å"Sylvia,† Aradia said quietly. Sylvia looked up, startled. Maggie saw her eyes,the color of violets. â€Å"Each of us will be a prince-† Hunter Redfernwas saying. â€Å"Sylvia Weald,† Aradia said. Sylvia looked down. â€Å"Don't talk to me,† she whispered. â€Å"You're notI'm not one of you anymore.† â€Å"All you have to do is follow me,† Hunter wassaying. â€Å"Sylvia Weald,† Aradia said. â€Å"You were born awitch. Your name means the greenwood, the sacred grove. You are a daughter of Hellewise, andyou will be until you die. You are my sister.† â€Å"I am not,† Sylvia spat. â€Å"You can't help it. Nothing can break the bond.In your deepest heart you know that. And asMaiden of all the witches, and in the name of Hellewise Hearth-Woman, I adjure you: remove your spell from this boy.† It was the strangest thing-but it didn't seem tobe Aradia who said it. Oh, it was Aradia's voice, allright, Maggie thought, and it was Aradia standingthere. But at that moment she seemed to be fusedwith another form-a sort of shining aura allaround her. Someone who was part of her, butmore than she was. It looked, Maggie thought dizzily, like a tallwoman with hair as pale as Sylvia's and largebrown eyes. Sylvia gasped out, â€Å"Hellewise †¦ .†Her own violeteyes were huge and frightened. Then she just stood frozen. Hunter was ranting on. Maggie could hear himvaguely, but all she could see was Sylvia, the shudders that ran through Sylvia's frame, the heavingof Sylvia's chest. Appeal to their true hearts,Maggie thought. â€Å"Sylvia,† she said. â€Å"I believe in you.† The violeteyes turned toward her, amazed. â€Å"I don't care what you did to Miles; Maggie said.†I know you're confused-I know you were unhappy. But now you have a chance to make upfor it. You can do something-something importanthere. Something that will change the world.† â€Å"Rivers of blood,† Hunter was raving. â€Å"And noone to stop us. We won't stop with enslaving thehumans. The witches are our enemies now. Thinkof the power you'll feel when you drink their lives!† â€Å"If you let this Wild Power be killed, you ‘I! beresponsible for the darkness coming,† Maggie said.†Only you. Because you're the only one who canstop it right now.† Sylvia put a trembling hand to her cheek. Shelooked as if she were about to faint. â€Å"Do you really want to go down in history as the one who destroyed the world?† Maggie said. â€Å"As Maiden of all the witches †¦Ã¢â‚¬ Aradia said.And another, deepervoiceseemed to follow on hers like anecho , As Mother o f all the witches †¦Ã¢â‚¬ And in the name of Hellewise . . And in the name of my children†¦ â€Å"As you are a Hearth-Woman †¦Ã¢â‚¬  As you are my own daughter, a true Hearth Woman †¦ â€Å"I adjure you!†Aradia said, and her voice rangout in double tones so clearly that it actuallystopped Hunter in midtirade. It stopped everyone. For an instant there was absolutely no sound in the courtyard. Everyone wa: looking around to see where the voice had come from. Sylvia was simply staring at Aradia. Then the violet eyes shut and her entire bodyshivered in a sigh. When she spoke it was on the barest whisper of breath, and only someone as close as Maggie wa:could have heard her. â€Å"As a daughter of Hellewise, I obey.† And then she was reaching for Delos's arm, ancDelos was reaching toward her. And Hunter wa: shouting wildly, but Maggie couldn't make out thewords. She couldn't make out Sylvia's words, ei.ther, but she saw her lips move, and she saw the slender pale fingers clasp Delos's wrist. And saw the lance coming just before it piercecSylvia's heart. Then,as if everything came into focus at once she realized what Hunter had been shouting in i voice so distorted it was barely recognizable. â€Å"Kill her! Kill her!† And that's just what they'd done, Maggie thoughther mind oddly clear, evenasa wave of horror andpity seemed to engulf her body. The lance wen right through Sylvia. It knocked her backwardaway from Delos, and blood spurted all over thefront of Sylvia's beautiful green dress. And Sylvia looked toward Hunter Redfern andsmiled. This time Maggie could read the words orher lips. â€Å"Too late.† Delos turned. There was red blood on his whiteshirthis own, Maggie realized. He'd tried to getin the way of the guard's killing Sylvia. But nowhe had eyes only for his greatgrandfather. â€Å"It stops here!† She had seen the blue fire before, but never likethis. The blast was like a nuclear explosion. Itstruck where Hunter Redfern was standing with hismost loyal nobles around him, and then it shot upinto the sky in a pillar of electric blue. And it wenton and on, from sky to earth and back again, as ifthe sun were falling in front of the castle.

Saturday, January 4, 2020

Cultural Autobiography - Free Essay Example

Sample details Pages: 7 Words: 1959 Downloads: 6 Date added: 2019/03/13 Category Literature Essay Level High school Tags: Autobiography Essay Did you like this example? Cultural Autobiography My name is Lane Kidd, and I was born January 19, 1978, in Shreveport, Louisiana. I have two sisters, which are 11 months apart, and 7-8 years older than myself. I am the youngest. Don’t waste time! Our writers will create an original "Cultural Autobiography" essay for you Create order For those whom I would say know me personally, or at work, would probably say I am an average guy who works hard and because of some of my life’s experiences, perceive that I play hard. Truth is, I don’t play enough. There is always something that can be getting done. Growing up as a child, the slogan â€Å"Don’t put off tomorrow for what you can do today†, was embedded in me and at times, I can honestly say that I take that literally. My parents worked extremely hard and rarely did I ever see them take days off. The days my mother did take vacation from her job, mostly was for, as she called it, â€Å"The Clean Sweep!† This was never good for my sisters, nor my father because the clean sweep meant if it were laying out on the floor or not put up in its proper place, it was probably going in the trash. As I think back, it was always close to trash day pick up. The same went for my father. He never exercised his vacation rights either. The times he did, it was to tend to the animals he raised, whether it was for repairs or for the slaughter, there was always work being done. My life growing up consisted of productivity, but most importantly, the culture I grew up in evolved around hard working, African American men and women. I too, am an African American male, and I am forty years old. I was unaware of how many people from diverse countries can’t differentiate black men from African men. America is my nationality. I am an African American, or Black male. It was never difficult for me to differentiate between the two because I didn’t grow up around any Africans; therefore, I didn’t know or wouldn’t have known the difference myself. The predicament for me began as a child when my father made certain that I knew that there was a difference in this world between blacks and whites, and by no means would we (his kids) be what white folk perceived blacks to be by what they had seen on television, and whether I liked it or not, it was something I’d better accept. There were reasons the men in our community worked hard and all the time. We didn’t grow up in an underprivilege community, nor did we attend underprivilege schools. Majority, if not all the men in our community were educated and successful in their career. Growing up, there was a sense of self identification and most importantly, having the will to succeed; whatever success meant to you. As the years move forward, I noticed that around high school, there was a huge difference between whites and blacks socially. For example, it is learned quickly that most of the kids that grew up playing sports together and having sleepovers, were no longer allowed to participate in other races’ functions. The high school I attended had three student parking lots: whites, blacks, and everybody else. As a mid to late teen is when I began realizing that being an African American or Black male is different from being white. It was weird that I couldn’t socialize with certain white friends that I had much of my life. As time moved forward, I began to accept the fact that there were just some people, due to the color of my skin, did not accept me as their equal, and whether I had known them as kids or not, seemingly, it simply wasn’t acceptable to associate with blacks as white people with certain social and/or economic status. In the United States, there is a tendency that whites live amongst whites, while blacks live amongst the blacks. This isn’t the case for every community, but many of them. The difference in seasons brings out the differences in races of people. In the summer time, majority of white people gather up their boats and life preservers, and head for the lakes. However, black people, on the other hand, mostly choose to gather in parks and barbeque, even though it’s already 100 degrees. When you compare the cultures between blacks and whites, there are some similarities, but there are several differences. Even though we grow up in the same country and learn from the same or similar institutions, the way we eat, dress, socialize, and even our religious practices are different. For example, most African Americans eat unhealthily until they reach an age where they learn that our habits are not fit for a healthy lifestyle. This is mainly because during slavery, African Americans fed and cooked for white families. The blacks didn’t earn enough wages to provide much food for theirs, so they had to make do with the scraps they were given. Mostly, this was the left over from the pig or whatever they could get their hands on. African Americans cook food in grease and butter, which are unhealthy. As a child, it seemed as that the only animals that the black men did raise were pigs and cattle; two animals where the bulk of our meat comes from. With days of work on the j ob and coming home to provide for their families, there was little to no time for exercising. It was a culture shock in some ways because in the white communities, you would always see someone walking or running down the street, exercising. This was a rare occasion in my community. In my neighborhood, the resources for health and fitness isn’t accessible. There are no 24-hour gyms and the fitness centers we did have were across town in the white communities, with a membership needed. Truth be told, majority of blacks in my community made excuses for not working out, whether it was too tired, or the convenient old age rebuttal. There were those that did exercise, and they were willing to drive the distance to utilize the fitness facilities. Again, the issue wasn’t limited to transportation, finances played a major role. As African Americans, even though successful, didn’t condone to paying for or creating bills that wasn’t considered a need. Although fitness is extremely important, in black communities then, it was not considered a necessity. The culture I was raised in, the work that had to be done around the house or the farm was about as much exercise as one could get; and it was saving money so to speak. As I got older and moved to the city, in a white community, I must admit that I wasn’t used to the amenities that came with living in a predominantly white area. Although health and fitness are dissimilar, both cultures rely heavily on religion. It may be difficult to notice by watching the interactions between the black churches and white churches, but they do have their similarities. While they both teach from the same bible, the teachings and worships services are different. The ministry is heavy on my father’s side of the family, but both of my parents come from strict religious backgrounds. When my parents were growing up, religion was a part of daily life for blacks. It is where majority of congregating and festivities took place; food, games, etc. It was a time when families came together to really get to know one another because each other was all they had, and everyone took care of everyone and their children. The saying went, â€Å"It Takes a Village to Raise a Child.† This is how blacks lived, while celebrating and soaking in as much wisdom from the elderly. For in those times, it was nothing for the neighbors to get together and have a feast for the new family that recently moved into the community. This was the culture of African Americans and religion. As I have gotten older, I sit with my mom and question her on how things were then when she was a child versus how things are now as I raise mine; simply to gain a bit more knowledge on the culture of yesterday to today. Listening to some of her stories makes it difficult for me at times to imagine raising my kids in her time. She would explain how they would go to church every day. I can’t imagine going every single day, but listening to her, this was the thing to do. This was the road to success so to speak. She explained how it strengthens the community and kept the trail blazing for those coming behind them. The more I learned about my culture, the more I realized that religion played a vital role in our upbringing. It is still the same today, but my generation does share its differences. Religion is still heavy in African American communities, but we don’t attend service every day of the week, and most importantly, the services are much shorter. Also, there are a lot less festivities going on due to majority of black churches now are comprised of many people who worship together but go about their own separate lives afterwards. In my opinion, I have learned that religion is a culture within its own, and both white and blacks maneuver in the culture by how they were raised and the religion that they were surrounded by, ie: Baptist, Methodist, Catholic, etc. While both black and white people read and teach from the same bible, the atmosphere and culture of religion is different. In the white culture, church service is quiet and absolutely no one is yelling to the top of their lungs begging for a witness. In my culture, on the other hand, after 3 prayers, 4 scripture readings, and an A B selection from the choir, it’s already been a couple hours and the preacher hasn’t come close to the sermon. Each culture has its positive and negative. The African American culture in religion requires plenty of patience and discipline because church wasn’t ending anytime soon. I can say it taught me both. There were consequences for not learning both, and in the black culture, any parent, other than your own had full rights to see to it that you did learn those two qualities and quickly. Most people, like myself, grow up in one culture; only being exposed to views that is being presented to them. While enrolled in the military, that experience afforded me the opportunity to view other cultures up close other than on television. What I learned was that each culture has its own opinions and views on how the society should operate. Not being multicultural like many people in foreign countries, has raised a certain awareness in myself of how different other cultures can be. I represent the African American culture and that is the only culture I can knowingly converse on. Having the opportunity to travel to other countries allowed me to explore other cultures and their languages. Unfortunately, I speak only one language; which is English. Acquiring the life skills I received from the US Navy, I am grateful for the valuable lessons I obtained along the way. Throughout these experiences, I have been able to practice different cultures, increase valued knowledge on different religions, and have learned, in some form to communicate in different languages with others. These experiences can’t be purchased. I am grateful for having the opportunity to enhance my knowledge on not only other cultures, but myself as well.