Martin Johnson Heade (1819-1904)
http://metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/20011406
Negro Life at the South
Eastman Johnson, 1859
http://americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/online/art_civil_war/
Table Rock Lake Sunset
Connie Tom
http://connietom.blogspot.com/2012/08/table-rock-lake-sunset-18hx24w-original.html
Hunted Slaves
Richard Ansdell
http://fineartamerica.com/featured/the-hunted-slaves-richard-ansdell.html
http://www.123rf.com/photo_7880308_picture-of-a-typical-beautiful-north-american-landscape.html
http://tclf.org/annual-spotlight/shaping-american-landscape
Table Rock Lake Sunset was the photo that I chose to write about. The reason being, is because it reminds me of summer time. I love the outdoors and looking at this pictures makes me picture myself sitting on the bank watching the sunset. I can see the calming of the lake in front of me, the croaking of the frogs in the distance and the buzz of the insects making their way along the shoreline. I feel very relaxed and at ease when I look at this picture.
ReplyDeleteAs I look at this picture I think back to my previous summers. My family owns property overlooking a small lake, similar to the one portrayed in the painting. There have been countless nights where I sit on the dock and watch the sun go down, watching the sky change from blue, to a swirl of reds, oranges, and yellows, into a dark yet beautiful sky of endless starry night. When thinking of these nights and thinking of the painting, I can feel the cool summer air kiss my cheeks and I can hear the sounds of the water slowly slapping the banks. I can hear a splash in the water from a fish in the middle of the lake, jumping into the air, splashing back into the cool summer lake after ceasing the buzz of a bug that was once fluttering above the water. I have to rely on senses other than my signt now because the colors of the sky have faded and I am overwhelmed by darkness and the sounds of nature around me. But although I can not see what kinds of things stand in the darkness around me, I feel safe and calm because I know that the things around me are as beautiful now in the darkness, as they were minutes ago when they were basking in the light of the sunset.
I loved the North American landscape. It gives me a great feeling of nostalgia, because I spent my summers growing up at my families cottage on the lake. Looking at this, I imagine myself kayaking across the lake, and exploring the island in the middle. Sadness ensues when I think about these memories, because as of this coming year, our cottage will no longer be ours. A place filled with 21 years of memories will be sold to a new family, but they will never be sold from my heart.
ReplyDeleteSitting on the dock with my toes dipped in the water, I daydream as the sun sets behind the clouds. So many memories are flashing through my brain, and not one is more valuable than the other. 21 summers have been spent in this little piece of paradise, and I can't believe that soon enough it will no longer be my place. My home. My secret. My favorite place in the world. It will be hard to see it go, see it turned over to a new family, to become a key to somebody else's memories. But as difficult as this is to bear, it's also what helps me cope. As I look across the lake, I imagine a tiny set of toddler footprints tip toeing through the sand, I imagine a mother and her daugher swinging on the porch swing together and of cousins collecting clams in the lake, hoping that one would strike gold and find a precious pearl.
As I stand up and turn my back from my paradise, I realize something. Though this place will no longer be mine, it will always be my special place in my heart. And I can only hope that it will create and equally as special place for the new family that will soon call it their own.
Hunted Slaves
ReplyDelete-powerful
-dogs foaming at the mouth
The size of the dogs makes the man look so small, but the dog lying dead on the forefront makes me feel that man overcomes and is the alpha.
Journal:
Powerful, axe in hand.
Sun beating, sweat pouring.
I hear the dogs,
slipping the axe to my husband,
we grab hands and run.
Accelerating through the fields
ignoring the pain in our feet.
Only the fear in our hearts driving us.
As the dogs approach
my husband pushes me behind
as he swing s the bloody axe.
I feel him tremble
but his courage and will
to live saves my life.
I know this is only the beginning of the battles to fight, but I prefer the dogs to men with guns.
I wanted to write about the painting by Richard Ansdell in which he depicted "Hunted Slaves." I will take the approach of writing a historical journal set within the landscape (Ehrenworth, Ch. 2).
ReplyDelete"Slaves ambushed by owners' dogs: Freedom questioned"
May 4, 1862
"Recently, it has come to this journalist's attention that some slave owners have been setting their dogs upon slaves who have escaped and taken off for freedom in the North. These dogs have been starved and then released to track and find the slaves.
It's a pity that we, the God-fearing citizens of this great country, have had to resort to hunting down people who never asked to be taken from the safety of their homes on another continent. It is a shame that we, the privileged land-owners and voters, have not chosen to stand up for freedom for all...."
This is just a draft. I'd love to write more and to do so, I'd probably have to do more research for it to be accurate.
Kia Jane