Narrative (Picture 5)

The girl crawled out from the basement into what had been her house. Her living room was now nothing but a tangled mess of drywall and glass. This must be a dream. She looked around, crying for her parents, dangling her favorite bear by its arm. She tasted something metallic in her mouth, and quickly realized that she had probably broken her nose from when she had fallen down the stairs running into her basement. Her hair was a dirty tangled mess, and she still had her P.J’s on. She also saw that she was bleeding out of her leg and arm. She wondered where her parents were, where everyone was, then she heard someone yell, “We have a small girl over here!”
She turned and saw that three men were coming over a hill of debris. The telephone post, where her friend Jimmy’s house was, stood slanted in a gigantic pile of concrete. This must be a dream. When they reached her, a man with a clipboard pointed to two spots, where his two men proceeded to position themselves and take pictures of her and film her. She did not understand why they were there, so she ignored them. Her arm hurt terribly, likely broken due to her fall down the stairs, and she could feel herself becoming dizzy, and there was blood trickling from her chin down to her shirt.
She turned around and said, “Where is everyone?” The three men stared into her glossy eyes, motionless and noiseless. This must be a dream; it’s nothing but a bad dream. Her world was crumbling in front of her, shapes in the distance faded to gray, and she became less and less aware of what was around her. Two hospital men approached her, only to be held back by the man with the clipboard. She took a few steps forward, picking up a picture of her and her parents. She stared at the picture through the broken frame for what seemed like hours. Her mother’s warm eyes, her father’s dark hair; they seemed so distant to her right now. She wanted her parents next to her, and she wanted them even more as her knees buckled from exhaustion and she fell into the splintery bed of rotting wood in front of her. It wasn’t a dream after all………

"Rockboy" by Banksy

Robert Bank’s “Rockboy” is still located on the Palestinian side of the Israeli west bank barrier. This is one in a series of pieces found on the same wall. Although the exact day it was painted is uncertain, it is dated somewhere in early 2007.

The scene takes place in a rocky area with debris in the foreground, and a looming cement wall made of individual blocks that create the plane the painting is found on. The combination of real rocks in the foreground and painted ones in the back make the painting seem real at times. The focal point is the lone boy in the middle holding a shovel and pail. He blends in with the sky behind him, yet he stands out as a sad figure. The simplicity of the tones and hues enhance the effect it has on the viewer. It is almost possible to see the boy’s story when you look at his face.