We've started really basic writing for our thesis papers. The first draft of our introduction paragraphs were due in class this past Monday, and mine will likely have to undergo some serious changes. I am, however, undeniably fond of the narrative quality of my first and wanted to share it here before I scrap it and start fresh. Dig in:
A Twenty-six mile long stretch of road down Interstate seventy-one connects the only two places I’ve ever really known. Between the small suburb of Medina and the city of Cleveland there is little about the landscape that begs special attention. Northeastern Ohio is a flat, stagnant shade of lazy grey for a solid period of at least six months each year, and in a lot of ways this ceaseless, stable hue speaks for the monotony of twenty-one consecutive years of calling the Midwestern United States “home”. There are very few places within this landscape that have genuinely captured my attention, and although they may seem scarce they are not altogether absent. Ohio is littered with an abundant amount of old industrial giants, and it is this type of architecture that has piqued my interest. It pops against the familiar field of hazy grey to capture my attention in a way I’ve never quite fully been able to comprehend. In doing so these forms have come to mean a lot of things to me. These buildings are no longer cold titans of industry, but rather old familiar faces. They are unique and precious in and of themselves, and have likewise begun to symbolize specific relationships, individuals, and events that have come to pass over my extended stay here in the Midwest.
(Unflattering iphoto still of "Rococo Couch")
(Unflattering iphoto still of "motel doodle")
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