Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Writing From Photographs

    New Years in New York. Talk about a celebration. It is like no other in the world. Bright lights and every color imaginable attack the eyes from every angle, begging to noticed. Sparkling New Years celebration paraphernalia shout the numbers of the coming year, and reflect the lights to create even more brilliance. Advertisements proclaim the latest and greatest products, subconsciously telling you to buy them. Loud noises- music, cheering, fireworks cracking open the sky- all competing to be heard above the rest. The combination of the sounds amount to a grand buzzing symphony of hullabaloo. Masses of people, all herded together, pushing for the ideal spot in Times Square, limit the amount of movement to mere inches. Yet, everything is in motion, swirling, blinking, dancing, rooting on the celebration. There is a biting cold, it is the middle of the winter. Puffs of breath float out of each person’s mouth, and drift away into the air. The energy and compactness of the crowd creates a battling heat made up of body warmth.  The air smells of a party- smoke from the fireworks, food, alcohol, and sweat. Rowdiness.  Chaos. Excitement. Bubbling anticipation from somewhere within, ready to explode as the ball drops.


Photo Narrative:
     Rewind, three years ago. 2007. Or was it technically 2006 still? She ponders the question briefly before moving on in her memory. It happened during a time transition. During a moment between two years. When it happened, time froze.
     Yet, oddly, everything was still happening around her. Bright lights and every color imaginable attacked her eyes from every angle, begging to noticed. Sparkling New Years celebration paraphernalia shouted the numbers of the coming year, and reflected the lights to create even more brilliance. Loud noises- music, cheering, fireworks cracking open the sky- all competed to be heard above the rest. Masses of people surrounded her, all way too close, pushing into her personal space. At the same time they were all so far away, lost in their own experience of the New Years celebration. Everything was in motion, swirling, blinking, dancing, rooting on the festivities.
     She was frozen in her own little time bubble. The cold suddenly stopped bugging her. The cacophony of sounds softened into a scarcely audible background noise. The lights dimmed. There was only one other thing in her world with her. It was him.
    Her heart echoed the explosiveness of her surroundings as the moment that everyone had been waiting for finally came, the moment she had been waiting for.
     Her first New Years kiss.

2 comments:

  1. Alyssa,

    Send me an email when you get this finished. That is, when the narrative is written.

    A.

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  2. The connection between the two pieces is evident through the snippets of description you used in your narrative. It's a nice touch to start with the human character, deviate from that point of view to describe the scene then return to the human element of the story. In essence, this form matches the format of the elements in the photograph. Perhaps there's some more to be written about the interaction between people and place, and just a couple of minor errors that I could spot.

    37/40

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