Unfortunately, I was not able to attend our last trip at the Symphony Space. However, after listening to the discussion my classmates had in class, I inferred that the trip was not too good after all. I noticed that about two classmates enjoyed their time at the Symphony Space, listening to the authors read their pieces. The majority of the class felt that this trip was useless and many were put to sleep.

I am not sure if I would have enjoyed this trip. My classmates said that the authors were not professional readers and stuttered a lot when they read. They said that the stories, although interesting, were a bore to listen to. They said that they could have read the stories on their own rather than travel to the city to listen to a bunch of authors stuttering as they read their pieces.

I probably would have enjoyed this trip. I read a few pieces and listened to them online and really find it interesting that people spend their time producing creative writings that involve food. I also enjoy listening to people read as opposed to having read the pieces alone because when the author reads his/her piece, I tend to put a face to the work and analyze the author’s personality. I discover what propelled the author to write such a piece based on who and how the author presents his/her work.

Because I was not at the Symphony Space, I cannot say I would have definitely enjoyed the trip. But I can admit that I enjoy listening to people read stories and really get drawn in to stories that seem interesting. I found the stories that I read were creative and interesting!

In the past week I visited the Matilda Musical on Broadway with a couple of friends. As I sat in the middle section, I took note of the proficient actors/actresses. I focused on the plot of the story and listened to the sounds of the music as the actors sang aloud. I recognized that there was much more to the Broadway show then the plot and the music. This Broadway show can absolutely fall into the category of art.

As my friends were enjoying the plot and the music, I began to look around. I took note of the audience who ranged from ages 5 to about 60. I noticed the set up- the stage was centered and the seats circled the stage. I recognized the luminous lights fixated on the actors. The set up and introduction of new scenes were oblivious and the production and design was phenomenal.

The Broadway show was indeed art. The set up, the makeup on the actresses, the clothing on the performers, the lights, the stage, the acting, the movements, and the music make the Broadway show an exceptional piece of art. I truly enjoyed the show and was amazed at the thought that almost everything can fit in the category of art!

When I heard that we’d be watching a staged play, I imagined a couple of people lined up on a large stage, practicing their parts dully. However, this was not the case. Mohammed’s Radio, although it was staged, was a pleasure to watch.

I thought that reading the play beforehand would affect my interest while watching the actual characters act. However, when faces and voices were put to the characters, the play just got better! What I had imagined, came to life. Each character presented his/herself in an extraordinary way and each individual brought something different to the table. The actors used a voice, expression, and personality that best fit their characters’ and really brought their hearts into the play.

I was especially moved when I saw tears in ‘Alice’s’ eyes. The actress actually placed herself in Alice’s shoes and was in tears towards the end of the play when she found that her daughter had been raped. It was extraordinary to watch the regular individuals play their parts with lots of emotion and passion. The actors/actresses made it hard for me to differentiate between the performer and the true character.

Overall, the staged play was beyond what I expected. I was immersed into the play and felt that I truly understood each and every character’s motives and behaviors.

I’ve always loved watching dance performances, but was never really interested in ballet. I thought ballet performances would be kind of slow and boring as opposed to loud and exciting. I can honestly admit that Thursday night’s ballet was extraordinary. It has been my first time attending a ballet of any sort and surprisingly, I enjoyed it.

What shocked me the most was how precise and graceful the dancers moved. The movements and choreography were beautiful. The elegant movements made the dancers look extremely young. I would have never thought that they were old. It looked as if these dancers were training since they were young. They looked developed, grown, blossomed. Each movement sparked an emotion. I couldn’t get my eyes off the stage.

The first and last pieces were what I thought all ballets were like. I always believed that a ballet had no story, that a ballet was supposed to target your emotions with the beautiful sight and the soothing music, and that ballets were supposed to be just beautiful and perfectly coordinated. And those pieces were just like what I imagined ballets to be like.

What I found most exceptional was the second piece. Although many others disliked the second piece, I really enjoyed it. I enjoy story-like plays, plays that have a purpose. I enjoyed watching the dance moves and listening to the different types of music being played, while putting pieces together and trying to figure out what the story was about. It kept me focused until the end. Instead of just watching dancers move beautifully, I’d rather have something unique- a story, a turning point, an ending.

Overall, the ballet was a great experience. The perfection of movements, the coordination, the sets, etc. were extraordinary.

To be totally honest, this has been my first time visiting both the Vietnam Memorial and the 9/11 Memorial. I was certainly moved. My feelings at both Memorials were similar in a sense but yet differed.

Visiting the Vietnam Memorial brought tears to my eyes. I felt a personal connection to those who died in war even though I couldn’t have known them. Although I was not born while the war was happening, I felt as if I understood their pain. The words written on the wall were extremely powerful. As I tried to slowly connect the words and create the sentences, I felt a shiver running down my spine. I knew at that moment that I was moved by the words, that the sensational words had power.

The first paragraph that caught my eye reads, “Dear Pete, Just a short note. Please don’t do anything foolish. Seriously Pete, please take care of yourself. Don’t be a hero. I don’t need a Medal of Honor winner. I need a son. Love, Mom.”

I stood in front of the wall, reading those words over and over. I wondered how old the boy was, was he drafted? I wondered what the mom meant when she said, “I don’t need a hero.” If her son is fighting in war, he is a hero! I wondered what Pete’s mother was feeling when she wrote this note. What was Pete’s original reaction? Here, I was able to take one letter and connect it to my life, as if I knew who Pete was. Creating these connections, made the war seem more personal to me. It made me question what could’ve happened if the war occurred in my time!

When I arrived at the 9/11 Memorial, I was stunned. The area was beautiful and comprised of a forest of trees and 2 square pools with the largest manmade waterfalls in the US flowing down their sides. These pools were built where the twin towers once stood. Surrounding the pools and inscribed in the bronze plates were the names of those victims lost in the 9/11 terrorist attack. Additionally, a rose was placed on top of the name of each victim who has a birthday that same day. This rose-placing made the memorial seem more personal to the victim’s family members.

The architecture itself really got to me. The fact that the pools were created in the footsteps of the actual twin towers made the visit extremely moving. It was as if this Memorial was sending a message that the twin towers will never be replaced and that those who died will not only be always remembered, but will be remembered in the same location that they died. The noisy water rushing down made me feel as if nothing else mattered at that moment. That it was just me standing silent and alone, commemorating all those innocent victims of the attack.

I remember 9/11 like it was yesterday. I was in the first grade, when I was rushed out of class, into my family car, and home to see the burning towers on every channel on TV. I’ve heard stories of people I knew who either died in the towers or were spared. Although you would assume that I felt more connected to the 9/11 Memorial, I can certainly say I was moved more by the Vietnam Memorial. Reading actual letters written by or to the victims of the Vietnam War left me heartbroken.