Original Idea Response to Response...to response....omg....

Beth - "And that is a good answer! I disagree, at least for me, but that is my prerogative, just as your opinion is yours. I think that if I can plant an image, thought, idea, or feeling into your mind then I am telling a story. "A moose in the mist" is, in my opinion and not according to any definition other than my own, a story because I have planted the seed in your mind. Your imagination can choose to "finish" out the story and ponder it, or dismiss it. But I have told it to you and you have received it, therefore, created a story (kernel) with no conflict. It is not a finished story, but is (like the quantum stuff) able to be anything. I just chose not to lock it into any ONE outcome, conflict, etc. That's my 2 cents worth on this project.

Good job - and good for you for having the guts to tell me you are finished with it and unwilling to continue."

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Me -
And see, that's where I love this class. It's not about finding a "right way" to think, or about learning to recognize when somethings "wrong". It's about identifying where you differ from other people, ideals, etc. and loving it. I like that you (Beth) and I agree in several areas, but I love that we disagree in other areas at the same time. It's awesome that you think stories are broader and that they can entice the imagination in that way. My mind fancies that idea, but is in love with the comfort of it's own opinion. It gives me a "drive" when I write a story just as I assume your opinion does. That's why this "field" if you will, is so rich and colorful. (also why I'm not referring to money or color pallets ^_^)

Grave of the Fireflies

Wow, I loved this movie! I didn't cry while we were watching it in class, but I did about 3 hours after. The images and characters stayed in my head...I saw them everywhere. It reminds me of when I watched the 4 hour long Bollywood movie "Kal Ho Naa Ho" I cried for days. The story was intense...life changing.
A friend and I drove around downtown after class. The streetlights were fireflies. All children were Setsuko. Candy in the gas station became a luxury. And I wanted a rice ball.
I want to make Setsuko smile.