I loved reading Persepolis

Persepolis, for me, was beautifully moving. I felt like there were two main characters to follow: Marji and Iran. Iran and the revolution was a character in itself. It broke hearts and affected Marji so much, the country came to life in the story. I felt like I was watching both grow into beings niether were familiar with. It was moving to read a character I couldn't really relate to.
Sometimes it gets really tiring reading a character I already know, whether it be because I relate to them or because author's aren't branching out. But Marji and her culture are people and places I have not aquainted myself with. I have felt loss and similiar pains Marji has felt, but other than that I didn't know her or Iran. It was refreshing to learn new things about Iran and about a girl I probably would have never met in real life.
Something else that really surprised me was I enjoyed reading this graphic novel. Truthfully, I am only like reading "Zits" from the Sunday comics. I'll dabble, but never dedicate myself to comics or graphic novels. However, I didn't just need the deadline of school to make me read this book. I got into it. Instead of the pictures bugging me, they drew me in. The way God looked, the veils... I am not sure I would have read it the same without the pictures to accompany the words. In general, I was moved and I actually want to read the rest of the series.

Guest Teacher Inspired Poems

So, these are the poems I wrote when the guest teacher came to teach. I thought this class was interesting and even though the poetry may not be rockin’, I enjoyed the process.

Poem one:
A river of icy-snow death, at least that’s what my friends and I call it, is beneath the windows. Ice covers the walk ways with off white and gray colors I don’t want to see anymore. Bare trees extend their naked branches over (where I’m sure) I’ll fall on my ass.

Poem two:
There is a river of icy snow death,
At least that’s what my friends and I call it.
And it is beneath the windows.
Snow and ice cover the walk ways with
Off white and gray colors I don’t want to see anymore.
Bare trees extend their naked branches over where I’ve fallen.
But today, I don’t care.

(I know I didn’t change much, but I feel the attitude at the end of the poem is little different.)

Poem three:
There is a river of icy snow death,
At least that’s what my friends and I call it.
And it is beneath the windows.
Snow and ice cover the walk ways with
Off white and gray colors I don’t want to see anymore.
Bare trees extend their naked branches over where I’ve fallen.
But today, I don’t care.

Today, winter doesn’t prevail.
No matter the storm that flickers light,
There is enough light to see that God hasn’t forgotten me.