#in another life this is exactly what you would’ve wanted. but this isn���t that life and it isn’t what you want

[last-on-your-lips]

Perception (pt. 2)

Its not that it’s hard for a mage to use destructive magic, really. Focus hard enough on anything and it’s liable to break apart when you command the very fabric every element is built on. Magic in our world is that intrinsic, so potent and present that technology all but has to be built around it with cooperation between Mages, Drakes and Alchemists alike.

Talin fancied herself as a healer, and I knew that even when I asked what I did of her. Mum’s not much for breaking things at all. Repairing shattered ceramics is one of her hobbies, actually. She’s very sentimental like that, and I could see her have to set her jaw when she turned her eyes on the ramshackle town we’d been a part of as long as I could remember. This was the place I had learned to talk, these were the homes of our people. It didn’t matter that they were small and easy to rebuild, or that few who lived there owned more than they could have carried out. Mum had spent most of my life half-employed as the doctor to the Draughters of Infirili, and she was sentimental.

When she began her cast I had the privilege of my new sight to tell me that she glowed like the bloody sun from the crown of her head down to the center of her chest, coalescing the energy of her sentimental grief and her disgust with the necessity of the action into a softly spoken evocation. The tips of two of her fingers touched her lips as she spoke, the power she called focusing to a point of light visible to the lame and frail as well at the end of her claws. Mum was never one to waste time with her spells, so it was a simple gesture of extending her arm and opening her hand that flung that spell to the town from where she stood. I knew to brace for the heat that would come. Our frail passengers didn’t.

One moment a prick of light flew loose of the ship, no larger than a shooting star against the night. There was a brief silence as the energy bolted deep into the hard trod ground beneath the huts and shacks, and next there was a vicious rumble from the ground before heat billowed out ahead of a voracious flame. The structures weren’t all that hard to destroy, of course, but the shockwave was enough to flatten the marsh grass and hide the hoofprints and footprints all the way to the tree line. It also sent a flush of heat and force to flutter the battalion standards, and I could see the march come to a halt at the impact. Mum radiated with her fury below, her eyes narrow and focused behind us on the forces we were avoiding as I tilted to cut into the trees, following the scent of the other evacuated draughted and the drakes leading them.

I was surprised at how well the ship balanced as I had to switch to climbing through the forest, usually only needing me to mind it with one massive forepaw or by the tip of a wing as I transferred between trees. I’d have to ask Kyn if it was designed for that when I put it back down… which seemed like it might come sooner than I had anticipated. I would have to adjust to covering  distances so confidently with my new mass and form, I was used to the forest feeling impossible to travel in the night as a human. I contemplated how I had moved so many miles on little rest and less food as I half slithered down the trunk of the tree Talin and I had established our home in the base of, the natural place for me to return to as it was the only relatively secure part of the forest with enough space to accommodate for the very suddenly displaced crowd of exiles.

The moment the hull touched the clearing I had painstakingly maintained by spear and effort, there was a calamity of questions tumbling over each other out of the mouths of  sore footed mothers, sobered fathers, and collected tradesfolk that had understandable frustrations about abandoning the small shops they’d managed to accumulate. Natural and reasonable fury and confusion, if louder than I liked as Kyn was unthreading the line from my chest and Mum was unboarding the folk we’d carried out and shepherding them into the husk of the great trunk. I caught complaints about potential livestock losses and upset over losing the small place we’d had for longer than any other Draught community were known to have maintained a place. My body language was blank, and my gaze studied and counted the faces of the children first, then their mothers, then their fathers. Then I sought out the tradesfolk, counting to ensure the strongest of them were among the bodies escaped from the town. After my assessment I made a low bellied rumbling noise, and the calamitous fury turned to hesitant silence.

Kyn spoke before I could, as close as the town had to a leader. “We all knew this was coming, get hold of yourselves! I dunnae what ye thought Talin meant when she told ye that her child was a dragon, or why ye ignored her if ye were going to shout about it now.”

There was a rustle of discomfort through the crowd of displaced friends, eyes averting and pouts settling onto faces as they were chided for their vocal frustrations about the disruption to their night and life. Many arms crossed and chins pointed up in familiar guard and defiance as Kyn stood on the rail of his ship between them and me to speak his piece.

“Ye can all like it or nae, but this is what ye were told when ye moved in. Ye should be grateful we got out ‘fore some folk that didn’ much mind us surviving cleared us out to piss Faern here off.” The words were certainly not as delicate as I would have said myself, but the life that many of my friends had lived had been rougher than Talin had given me. And Kyn certainly wasn’t wrong that I would’ve been less composed to see them dead. “We’re here for a day or two. Get some sleep, we work tomorrow. Got horses to catch in the morning an’ shoes to put together before we get us moving on.”

At his dismissal many eyes had gone from fury to steel, acceptance that this was indeed the lot they’d chosen when they came to Infirili. I admit some guilt lingered in the back of my mind, knowing I was the cause of displacement and loss. Although mostly I was relieved that the worst case scenario hadn’t been what I had found when I arrived. While the crowd distributed into the clearing with less heated grouching, Talin came back out to us looking much calmer than she had going inside. She was concerningly loaded down with maps and her bestiaries, however, and I recognized her planning face. Perhaps when I was younger I should have paid more attention to her and Kyn when they had their late night plotting sessions drawing on maps and conspiring about exactly what local wild animals could be caught, bribed and purposed for companionship and protection to humans.

I counted myself rather lucky that it was then Kyn’s lover looked over, the scathing squint of her slit blue eyes enough to send a chill down his spine and put a pause in Talin’s step as she had to glance over her shoulder to find the source of the prick against the back of her neck.

Asyla was a massive woman, someone who had kept me in check during some of the more physical outbursts of my gangly teenage years. She was a draught drinker from the westernmost continent, Ophelim. Her draught, you ask? Well she was given Serpent’s Draught. And with it she was adorned with a venemous bite, speed unlike anything that belonged in the bulk of someone as direct in their intentions as she was, and eyes not unlike a pit viper. The pretty pattern of pale silver, off white and almost black scales that decorated her back and her forearms in intricate diamonds was something she liked to display with pride by way of sweeping open backed dresses, although I was a bit stunned to see her skirt knotted over her hip to show the muscular length of her legs was similarly patterned along the outside of her thighs and down shins and calves where her drake hide shorts didn’t cover.

This stunning example of woman was also making a direct path through the disgruntled population of her lover’s town with a look on her face I could only describe as terrifyingly focused. On me. Mum and Kyn put themselves in her way with a cacophony of placations and pleas, begging the walking tank to wait a moment and think before she started in on me. Naturally they were shrugged off as Asyla stalked around The Hull and made herself a wide stance in front of my lowered head.

“’Appy blas’ed bir’day to you, innit?” Her voice it’s usual broken hiss past the disfigured fork of her tongue, not quite managing to form all the complicated ‘T’ or ‘H’ sounds in common.

“Another year. Not another disappointment.” My growl answered as I dropped my weight down, curling up with my wings and tail in tight. “Feels different.”

“Sure should.” A nod of agreement as her hands rested on her hips and she appraised the sheer scale of the difference between what she knew and what I’d changed into. Kyn and Mum seemed baffled that I wasn’t being yelled at. “Wha’ now?”

“Make sure the family is safe first.”

“Alrea’y done. Wha’ now for you Faern?” Asyla always did have a directness no one else showed toward me.

“Finish what they started. Try not to get turned into a Draught while I do it.” My ambition wasn’t going to be a secret, I wanted to see if I could accomplish it in Hocrayle. A camaraderie between Drakes and humans  anything like the cooperation happening on the other continents.

“’Ey’re real busy bein’ ‘Uman ‘ere.” Her opinions therein laid out in so few words, although I could tell that she didn’t particularly doubt my determination and abilites. “Figh’in’ isn’ goin to be much like wha’ we’ve done before. Ere’s like to be whole armies.”

“Not trying to do it looking like this, auntie. I want to try and learn from Kyn, take the wings back off and look more personable on the way.” I could feel how naive she thought I was when her arms crossed and her head tilted into her scowl.

“Wha’s the plan, kid.” Demanded more than asked. Rude of her really since the only plan I had come up with was find all my parent’s contacts and figure out exactly what it was they’d been doing before they decided to start an entire war. About that… I realized under my aunt’s discerning stare I had no rightful idea where to begin looking for those contacts. Or how to approach them. Or what to expect if I did find them. All I knew was that Talin wasn’t the only Dragon Draughter that Urthylo and Rhaekson had some kind of contact with before I was born, and I had the newly learned ability to spot draugthed by the way they looked different from other humans. Until Asyla questioned me that felt like a lot to work with.

“Find the Draught Dragons that Urthylo and Rhaekson were conspiring with and figure out what they were doing to help relations between Drakes, nations and humans?” My voice managed to be an infuriatingly uncertain whine.

“Big questions.” Kyn cut in there, his voice heavier than usual, and his pale golden gaze more direct when he pointed it at Asyla. I was surprised to see that she backed off. “We can get those answered. What ye going to do with ye answers?”

“Unite Hocrayle the way drake and dragons are united on the other continents.” This was stated with a confidence all three of my more practiced adults shot down by the angle of their quirked brows. Having said it out loud I also understood how unlikely it seemed that a single influence might achieve that between six unfriendly nations and an extensive wilderness untouched by common humans. The other continents operated as massive and united nations, sharing the same laws and general systems of function across their whole land mass rather than disrupting into countries. This was made possible by their kinship with their local drakes and the cooperation of the Dragons that were incorporated into the bodies of their governments and nobility. Dragons and Drakes were a part of other societies because they maintained station among those societies. Talin had been purposeful in teaching me about how those politics worked, and informing me on how dragons were regarded across different parts of the world.

Hocrayle did not value dragons as part of their government, because Dragons had been tyrants to the humans until they suddenly vanished from the population entirely centuries before my occurrence. In four hundred years many common men and nobles alike had lived and died, and so the six nations had specialized in their ideals and budded into independent philosophies and borders. Into conflict and animosity, and into an age of Alchemy rampantly afflicting people by the hundreds with experimental Draughts.

Asyla was an example of more lawfully applied Alchemy, in Ophelim they only adorned the few and mighty with Draughts. And of those draughts there were only three, The Lion, The Wolf, and The Serpent. Noble beasts that augmented loyal and noble people, and a Draughted from her continent was to be expected as educated, disciplined and in control of their beast. It seemed to me that was likely how the elixirs had been meant to work when they were designed, a kind of initiation and accomplishment to allow humans to gain a deeper understanding of the the rest of their world. Asyla, direct as she ever was, embodied the patience and the gravitas of any viper I’d ever met at least. She also showed that it was possible for a Draughted human to be reasonable, educated, resourceful and respected. Things that were uncommon to see in the nations of Hocrayle.

“Well. Ye want to learn to change the wings back off first, yeah?” Kyn broke my spiraling depth of thought, bringing my eyes to himself and inspiring an earnest bob of my head. “We’ll get that done for ye, and talk more on changing the world when ye aren’t a great lizard.”

Talin sat by Asyla and watched the lesson on transformation as the earliest hours of the day’s turn made little more noise than the uncomfortably light snoring of her friends camping haphazardly around her home. She’d prepared for this over the years. There had been blankets waiting, and food for the little ones. Even a handful of cots she’d built to see the aging folk and lame limbed of the exile town into. Faern had kept their ‘lawn’ clear with enough room for every hardened body now laying on it to doze. She’d expected all of this, really. Yet while she watched Faern struggle to wiggle all the scales off themselves (this being a slow process that Kyn seemed utterly fascinated with and ill equipped to help) she wondered if she could ever have been prepared enough for their future.

Their friends were right, the young dragon was naïve in their ambitions. Not necessarily wrong in wanting to understand what each of their ill-fated parents had been trying to accomplish, and not even wrong to want to see some kind of friendship between humans and drakes on their natural born home. Even without being wrong, they were estimating themselves against nations of humans who only knew of Dragons as legends of practical enslavement. Given how Hocrayle worked without the dragons… She couldn’t honestly come up with a good argument to bringing them back, or turning her well meaning child loose into a world that considered them as an ingredient first and a person sixth.

“Try that water gathering spell I taught you.” Suggested as she watched the scales that had just been shed reform from the low rolling fog under their belly for the ninth time. The fog was thinning from all the water that Faern hadn’t realized they were drawing in yet.

Kyn didn’t like what happened when that suggestion was made, the pale white streak of magic travelling along the dragon’s spine as they gathered up the energy and focused it toward their horns. Talin realized belatedly that she probably should have let anyone in town know that their favorite harmless dragon knew fundamental direct magic, and had mastered the manipulation of most of the natural elements at a frankly alarming scale. That could be handled later though. She focused intently to watch how the spell began to unweave the massive body that Faern had grown into, the water from the creek they’d absorbed on the mountain top gathering as tail, scale, claw and wing withered and swirled into the mass. A few focused moments and the slender frame of her child with eyes closed was levitating fully nude at the height their horns had been, the odd glow of pure magic making them painful to look at.

She appreciated the style of the next spell that they chose, watching the gathered element surround Faern anew and change it’s density and structure until it made a decent impression of their usual hunting garb. This was something a mage couldn’t have done in a thousand years of study, and only a mad alchemist would try with nothing but their own focus to depend on. Talin had taught it to Faern anyway, after decades of obsessive research into the old Tyrant Dragons. The old dragons had been able to transform at will from their royal robes, and after painstaking research she had found no remnants or records of seamstresses or looms or fabrics that made it possible for them. It had actually been one of Faern’s own theories that the tyrants kept their element under an elaborate glamour in order to ease transitions. And immediately after they sealed this spectacular spell as proof they opened their eyes and dropped down to glare at Kyn where he was fastening his britches back on.

“Explain the Indemnic boat, Kyn. That kind of technology is rare here, and insanely expensive to build–” The tangent was cut short, to Talin’s amusement, when Kyn squared his palm across the full plane of Faern’s face. She had to respect that Faern tried to start an interrogation with an exhausted Draghted.

“Ye can bother me for it in the morning. Ye need to eat and ye need to sleep. We got much to do, and people to feed and move.” She couldn’t argue with his logic, although Talin certainly felt like her child was asking important questions of him. When they looked to her she gave a gesture toward the branches above where the Drakes they’d met the day before were anxiously perched.

“If you want to stay up, go settle them down. Kyn’s right that we should rest while we can. We don’t know how long that fire will burn and we don’t know if they had their own magicians in that battalion.” Talin endured the seething squint of her child’s eyes, and heard their frustrated grunt before they pulled back from Kyn and stalked over to the tree. They chose to leave by climbing up the bark with a refreshing new lack of restraint.

“I’m not explaining it to ye either, Tal.” Kyn’s first words when the rustling leaves over their heads began to settle down and indicate the drakes had been led away.

“Don’t want you to. You’re Indemnic yourself, known for a long time my friend. You need to get the engine right for tomorrow, we don’t know if Faern will carry the raft as far as it needs to go.” Talin appraised Kyn and how he reacted, almost laughing when he seemed surprised she would’ve recognized his towering frame, mahogany skin, and distinct accent as foreign to the short, narrow and pale national residents of Hocrayle.

“Kyn, your surname is Arseilles.” Asyla helpfully contributed from where she remained on a mossy cushion beside Talin. As his mate and an Opheli Serpent it wasn’t surprising she’d bait him. “Anyone with a Mage’s educa’ion would know you’re from Indemnis by lookin’ of you. Jus’ fix the ferry for the folk who aren’ tryin’ to save the world.”

“I’ll fix the boat in the morning. Tired from all that morphin’ I did for no reason.” Gruff and with a pointed look to Talin. “My hands’re too shaken to do the work without a rest. Could’ve had them try the spell first, Mage.”

“Could’ve told Faern you weren’t from Hocrayle when they were younger too.” Talin gave a nonchalant shrug and adjusted her shirt at the shoulders, her focus pointedly directed to her friend. “And you probably should have. Because Sire Itun is the drake that Faern’s gone off to chat with.”

“Itun is alive? Wait. Itun was– Shit!” The panic mounted utterly late into her friend, although she managed not to laugh at how he began to scan the branches above them searching for the now distant drakes.

“I suppose we’re all in for a long sit ‘n speak in the mornin’.” Asyla’s input as she rocked to her feet and offered a hand to help Talin up. “Explanations are wanted for, and ‘ey said who should say them.”

“Let’s all hope it goes better in the morning, shall we?” The Dragon Mage’s word on the matter as she saw herself into her house, leaving the lovers to do as they liked on the ferry for the few hours they’d have before the sun, and the Dragon themself, returned.

[randomwritingss]

*Prompt:* "Hello!

Can you write an imagine story, where Jim Kirk fell in love with Pyke’s daughter, plase?🙈"

*Warnings:* Possible out of character Kirk?? And it turned out way longer than I planned. Also, it's probably really bad. I'm exhausted.

Being the child of one of Starfleet's Captains, Christopher Pike, had its advantages, he told you all of his adventures. When you were a child, you loved hearing them. As you got older, you weren't as interested in them. Mostly due to hearing so much when you were younger. And, almost guaranteed admission to Starfleet.

When you got old enough, you decided that you'd join Starfleet as a nurse, you got along well with other people and the blood and gory things didnt bother you. Your father was more than happy when he heard of your decision; your mother, not so much, but she came around shortly after.

After you graduated, you were assigned to your father's old ship, Enterprise. You were excited, to say the least; but, you were also nervous. While you were in academy, people treated you differently. You knew it was because of your father. And you were hoping that on Enterprise, that it wouldn't be like it was then.

As soon as you stepped foot on the Enterprise, you were met with her new captain, James Tiberius Kirk; a deviously handsome man, with blue eyes to kill. You had heard so many stories on the captain, how he was a playboy and never really cared about anyone but himself. He smiled real big when he saw you, "Ah, nurse Y/N Pike. It's wonderful to meet you. I am Captain Kirk. And this is our chief medical officer, Leonard McCoy; but, I call him Bones." He says, as he places a hand on a man in a blue uniform.

"Don't expect any special attention, just 'cause of who your father is." This Leonard McCoy says, rather crossly.

You nod and respond, "Wouldn't dream of it, sir. I'm rather sick of it. Got it all the time when I was in the academy."

"I like 'er already." Doctor McCoy, laughs looking at the captain.

As he walks away, Captian Kirk looks at you, "That's a first." He laughs, rather loudly and places a hand on the small of your back making you jump. "I hop you enjoy your time on the Enterprise. I'll personally show you to your quarters." You nod, as the both of you walk to your quarters. On the way, he asks about you and why you joined Starfleet. You answer all of his questions and in no time you're at your quarters. "This is you," he says as he gestures the door. "Coincidentally, my quarters are at the end of the hall."

You nod, "Thank you, Captain. I think I'll go get settled in." He nods as you walk in. You wave to him and he waves back. As the door closes, you learn against a wall and groan. "He's the captain, a crush is totally out of the question." You sigh, as you get a video call. It's your father. "Daddy!" You say, happily.

"Hey, sweetheart! I just want to see how you like your quarters." He says, smiling.

"I just got here, actually. I haven't got a chance to look around." You say, now looking around. It was rather big; a nice bathroom, a normal size sitting area, and a rather big bed area. "It's nice."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything." You both then say your goodbyes and get off.

You sit on your new bed, it's really soft, like the one you had on Earth.

*Time Skip: a couple months*

A couple months have passed since you arrived, well were beamed on, the Enterprise. Life is pretty well normal; everyone treats you like a friend, not Christopher Pike's child. You are extremely grateful for that. You hang out a lot with Nyota, Pavel, Scotty, Keenser, Hikaru, Bones, Spock, and of course, Jim. Nyota has become your best friend.

"You know he has a crush on you, right?" Nyota says, randomly one day you both are having lunch.

"Jim? No, he totally doesn't." You respond, eating whatever was on your tray.

"I've known Jim for a while, he does have some type of feelings for you." She raises an eyebrow when Jim sits beside you, in toe is Bones and Spock. You smile when Spock kisses Nyota.

"Hello, boys." You say, looking down.

A chorus of "hellos" reach your ears. Most prominent, is Jim's. You look at him and he smiles at you. "And how are my favorite girls today?" He asks, cheekily.

Nyota kicks your leg softly. You frown, "We are perfect. And you? Boys?" Ny responds smiling.

"We're great. Another great day in Space!" Jim answers, still looking at you.

"Yeah, great." Bones scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Jim, while still looking at you, places a hand on your knee, making you jump. "Alright, I'm going to go...." you trail off before finishing your sentence, "uhm, somewhere." You stand up and practically run away. You wonder around for a while, walking nowhere in particular. Somehow you end up, on the observation deck. Sitting on the floor, you look at the stars as the Enterprise soars through space. Alone in your thoughts, you don't hear somone walks up and sits beside.

"I love the stars." Whoever it is says, making you jump again. You look over and see Jim. "According to my mom, my father loved being out here. It's not hard to see why. The stars are my favorite part of my job."

You turn to him and hang on his every word. "I've been wandering around for over two hours. Somehow I ended up here." You reply, "It's still hard to think I'm in space. I heard so many stories from my dad."

Jim turns his body to you, "My mom told me quite a few. I heard the one about when my dad died so many times, especially in the academy. I always feel like I'm trying to live up to a story; or a.." he trails off trying to find the right words.

You nod, understand, "I know exactly what you mean. I mean, dad had such high standards for me growing up. My mom, she was a little more relaxed when he was off up here."

You both continue talking for what seems like hours. Talking about everything, your childhood, his, and what you both want for your future. Surprisingly, you both want the same things. You continue talking, until you start yawning, "Tired?" He asks, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your eyes.

"A little. I have a long day ahead of me. I need to get to bed before Bones kills me." You laugh, as Jim stands up and helps you up as well. "Walk me to my quaters?"

"Of course." He says, holding his elbow out for you to take, as you're a little wobbly. You both continue to talk as he walks you back.

As you get to your door, "Well, this is me." You say, frowning. You notice Jim frowns as well. "Thank you, Jim. I really appreciate it, I would've gotten lost coming back."

He chuckles and replies, "You're welcome. Can I be honest?" You nod, "When you first came on this ship, I thought you were attractive." He sighs and looks you right in your eyes, "But, today, just now, when you were alone on the observation deck, I... I.. I realized that I'm in love with you."

You gasp, "Jim, I don't know what say. But, I think I'm in love with you, too." He smiles and kisses you. You'll need to remember to thank Nyota, later.

A/N: This probably isn"t my best work. I'm so tired, I'll look it over in the morning. -Shawnee

[sushmita-devi]

Reflective Journal: ICT

Outline of the assignment

In this assignment, you are revisiting your previous blogs and creating a reflective journal blog. Journal should be a reflective document that provides personal and thoughtful analysis of your individual participation/progress and reflection. You are required to submit a full reflective journal, aggregated collection of entries so that your “final” journal covers the entire semester analysis of your thinking process and articulating what you learned as a creative thinker. HOWEVER, it is very important that you be honest in your journal entries.

________________________________________________________________

Therefore, I have revisited my blogs from the beginning and have reflected back to it and have summarised through physical experience of how my first semester has been. From every blog, what I have picked up so far is very opinionated. This reflective journal is through the blogs I have been doing based on the projects we were given. Also on what I have done physically to achieve the outcome. This journal is not exactly based on blogs and what could be improved on but the practices that was explained and expressed through blogs and what was improved on the next projects and what could be improved on in the future. The whole purpose of blogging continuously was to have the tutors updated on our progress through everything we do in and outside of class.

SO...

From a very small knowledge about creativity to something imaginative which I thought I already had but nothing was clear until explored halfway through this course. Whatever I was doing on everyday basis at BCT was something felt to be done also in the future ahead of me too. This wasn't something that just pops out of a jar and into the table. This was something that was juggled over and over again into a jar, until I was satisfied enough to feel confident pulling that 'something' out. These were the ideas, thoughts, emotions, passion, hobby, my needs and wants that we're juggled. All those things were juggled and pulled out onto the table without even choosing what I needed out of that jar.

This is half way through the first semester of my first year, and I'm already excited about literally everything about this course from now until I finish my degree. I didn't choose to decide what I wanted out of that jar because everything was in the jar for me to utilise and play around with. But my vision towards that jar was clear. It was totally empty last year. With all those things I pulled out of that jar, I still wasn't able to work with those until I connection myself to the attributes collaboration, team work and responsibilities which I realised was the most important aspects in order for me to deliver a final work/outcome across to someone. This is not only it but through out every project I have done so far, iteration was the most important aspect that came in handy which helped me develop my ideas but through the iteration, a prototype is made to be discussed about form the beginning to end of the project and this carried on since day one of this course. What I learnt so far is that a prototype is never a final copy as the iteration takes part when the thoughts and ideas come in and other people starts to contribute as they grasp onto the brief idea of what you're working on. Idea never has a dead end. It keeps developing overtime. 

However, the first project we got for studio was tough even though it sounded easy. It got a little difficult when the ideas were put onto the paper, people deciding over what was correct and what should and shouldn't work out with all those random questions thrown at each other wasn’t an easy decision to make. It was hard wrapping our heads around the outline of the project. It became a little clear when we got feedback from one of the tutors but the funny thing was we found it harder sticking to the projects outline then coming up with completely different idea, having our own unique thoughts put into it to collaborate with others. Believe it or not but having our originality was one thing that made the whole concept so much easier to tackle. Nothing made it original just by blogging about the concept and what not but I provided prove of my originality too. I posted the images of my projects and most times, I blogged my steps into the projects with a brief explanation. We made it through with the best result we all could possibly get as a group.

The second project we got was the sound project which had multiple tasks to complete individually until we got together as a group for a final performance. I blogged nearly everything on this project. From the time I started on my planning to prototyping, it was important for me to do so as the lecturers mark on the progress as well. But it was two time more challenging than the first one. It was tough making a decision what you want to do your project on when your outline could be open to any source. At this point, I thought it would've been much easier having an outline given to you by your tutors then just choosing what sort of things you could do for your music in, your instrument and organising your own performance and its setup and what not with extra criteria's if you wish to. This time, we got tested on or originality and our own ideas and thoughts and how we deliver them individually and as a group. This was one of the projects I enjoyed the most as it left me be myself and do whatever I wanted to do for the project and the project was also named freely “Sound Project”. This involved, any music, any beat, any rhythm, anything but nothing more than sound. This project was time consuming but whatever skills I had, I made sure I demonstrated them in the project. If I didn’t express my skills and knowledge during that project’s time frame, then there wouldn't be a time I would be given a chance to express my abilities. 

OK! Another time consuming project... ‘Speculative Artefact-Film making’. Man! What the hell! This was confusing. We changed our ideas several times. We wrote a script and made a story board but nothing worked out. Did the same thing on another idea but that didn’t work either. We decided to combine those two rejected ideas and think outside the square. Instead of having another new script, we manipulated that and started thinking towards making a documentary film which could be suitable for any age and viewers. We made it through but don’t know how well we did it but that was original from an outline given to us. From having an outline given to us to no outline to another outline given to us, nothing really balanced well. It was difficult but working as a team solves it all. 

This final project given to us last week sounds easy but trust me, it HARD! It’s hard to even come up with an idea of what I want to present as a final outcome. It’s hard to decide in a group because everyone has different opinions, ideas and questions that ruins it all but having all those rhetorical questions helps us think outside the square. It gets us to think like a lecturer and what would they be expecting from their students. What I have realised so far is that thinking from a lecturers perspective is the only way to get your head around things. The only way to get good grades. But not only that, original ideas get you good grades as well. I have not yet decided on my concept for the final project but this is definitely something original I would be creating either from scratch with those last project topics or pulling ideas from those previous projects I have done to improve on those projects to show what I was trying to convey within that time frame. 

The little activities we were given for ICT literally built my self-confidence up. These were pretty much Vlogging. It only built my confidence up to the point I would video myself talking but not to the point I would make the video public on YouTube for everyone else to watch. Those activities weren’t easy. It took a lot of time and effort to collect all my ideas and feelings together towards the course to video myself about it for the lecturers to watch and mark. Knowing the lecturers would be marking it, I kept making mistakes while videoing myself over and over again. If it was just for myself, I would have given in my freestyle like I do on Snapchat videos but that video was nothing like that. But they were the task given to show our originality and how we think. That went great too. 

OK I would even given up my life if I never got to program. I love programming. Something that used to be my weakest point is no longer weak. I have coded in C before but just by coding in one language, it made the whole concept of it so much easier for me this year for ‘programming for creativity. It was easy for me to grasp onto every topics, the tests and the projects. The final project we are given for Processing is all done and dusted even though I have two more weeks till it’s due. I always wanted to do software engineering but I also wanted to do something that relates to my passion and that suites me which is ‘creativity’. But I'm glad I got a chance to at least one programming paper with the side trails for creative papers which fits into the course overall which I totally enjoy. 

Last but not the least, I would like to confess that I am fully committed to this course as this is something I see myself doing in the future but not only that. I feel that this course will provide me with every skills and knowledge I need to have and also know what is out there for me to do. What I love about this program is that it lets me be myself. Moreover, this isn’ t limited to a certain topic. This covers nearly everything around the technological area which was expected from the day I decided to do a degree. 

Overall, this course does make me emotional as times especially when it comes to the release dates for the grades. I have set my feelings on relying my life on those grades I get for my degree because I feel that my future depends on my grades. But I also do know that grades don’t always matter. It’s also about my knowledge, skills and experience that may matter to most employers. Nothing is ever the same. Nor the ideas or the feelings.

If the weather has its high and low temperature, so does our feelings and emotions. Not just that but our grades too but what about our future?

If nothing is predicted then why do we predict our own grades might be lower than we think? I mean why do I think negatively towards my work when I should have pride in my work. But on the other hand, I love what I do. See what I mean? I’m confused! Put it this way... If we don’t laugh at the same joke over and over again then why do we cry at the same problem? Relatively, why do I keep thinking negatively when I could improve on my grades, follow the rubrics, hand in my projects on time then maybe see the difference? Then let the future show it’s magic for me? Doesn’t that mean I must work hard for it? Maybe I should...

Some people may think...

There is no innovation and creativity without failure._Brene Brown

But you know what I think? Don’t fail! Find a million ways that wont work.