Transcript VISUAL_JOURNALthe_bo..

VISUAL JOURNAL
Visual Journaling
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Visual journaling can express the way you see the novel in your minds’ eye. Images
combined with words can be a unique and powerful tool to self-discovery and personal
creativity
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Keeping this kind of journal opens the door to many creative ways of expressing your
thoughts and feelings about the literature you are engaged with
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You can create your own images and embellish your journal in anyway that pleases
you.
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Even if you think you don't have an artistic bone in your body give it a try I bet you'll be
surprised at how creative you really are.
Resources Are All Around You
The resources for creating your visual journal experience all around you. Go to the dollar
store, they have awesome art supplies.
You can draw your own images, use photos, computer generated art cut outs from
magazines, greeting cards etc.
Even nature can provide materials pressed flowers or beautiful fall leaves (Remember
when you were in grade school and you were taught how to press colorful fall leaves
between two sheets of waxed paper?).
Words and Images
Combining words and images is a powerful
tool for self expression. Once you've written
your journal entry let the words conjure up
images and illustrate the page to express
the feelings behind the words. Words and
images compliment each other very well
and help you see deeper into their meaning.
Your pages should push the convention of
how images and text are combined
ROMEO AND JULIETTE
MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA
OTHELLO
TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD
THE MIDDLE PASSAGE
Ever wondered how the ancestors survived
the boat ride from Africa to America?
Smells of everybody's lives jumbled together
as they lay flanked side by side, in a cess pool
of blood, tears, and stool, dreaming the unreadable.
Deep in the bowels of a slave ship,
where many made their tomb,
a mother's tears flowed from dried-eyed ducts,
for the suckling babe snatched from her breast,
while hating the enemy whose seed now grew in her womb.
Rattling of shackles never quite able
to drown out the re-memory of sun-drenched savannahs
where they once roamed as kings and queens
pulverized the spirit. . .
Were they bludgeoned into mindless stupor?
Or did they tell themselves,
"We must be strong; we must survive
for our future sons and daughters"?
For survive they did...only to endure the untreatable...
bondage...false freedom...lynching...now drugs...
Ever wondered what the ancestors would believe
if they knew of the perilous journey their future seed
must fork through the middle passage
from their mother's crack-filled womb?
Deep in the caverns of an incubator,
where many make their tomb,
a drug baby's life shackled to tubes, ventilators,
not guaranteed to save,
like mother's milk,
an umbilical cord,
but an alien world...Now, who's the slave?