I was able to translate the text of the piece to English which was helpful but I actually viewed it first in Spanish. I don’t speak Spanish (even though I took the Spanish classes from first grade to freshman year of college). When I walked through in English, I could tell that the way it was written in Spanish was beautiful. Translating language always changes a piece but I still think regardless this piece carried so much weight. Visually I really loved this piece. The scrapbook feel made it feel personal and I want to say homey. I really loved the audio clips and the videos even though I didn’t know what they were saying, it gave a spotlight to the mom. I really loved the page with the black screen and the spotlight on the one page. It felt kind of reminiscent to how grief forces us to get glimmers of a memory at a time.

In my adult life, I had an epiphany. My parents were parents at my age and I think about being a parent right now and I just don’t even know how they did that. I like to hear stories of my parents before kids and I often find myself comparing things I am doing in my life to stories I’ve heard from theirs. Any party/gathering I throw at my house the thought of “i wonder if this is how the parties at my parents first house were” or something along those lines. I really connected with the idea of uncovering a parent’s identity before they were parents. It is so fun to think about to me but I also found the idea of the author kind of creating a life for her mom before she was a mom to be so interesting and heartbreaking. The diary entries were so so heartbreaking to me. The line “the closest thing to her left on earth are my brother and I.” gave me goosebumps. The “Planto” section was AMAZING. I loved the poetry and the interactive element. Overall, this piece not only was visually appealing, moving, meaningful but it also made room for a lot of reflection. I thought this was such an amazing piece and I’m looking forward to the walk-through in class.

Before deciding on The Vine and The Fish, I thought about choosing Writers Are Not Strangers. I was excited to walk through this one this week. My story was one about a girl named Alix whose mother is dying. I don’t think we all end up with the same prompt at the start or really at all during the piece. The third page I ended up on in (and second of a cohesive story) gave me choices on what the character does next. How cool is that! You all know I love a choose your own adventure kind of thing. At one point one of the choices said something along the lines of “What does this have to do with the story I rated?!” But I didn’t click that so that I could stay with one story. I was afraid clicking that option would have brought me somewhere else like Twelve Blue. Alix’s father had died and she had obtained his notebook. She is a writer who posts her work to be rated online (interesting). A line I loved from this section is in reference to her dad’s notebook and it reads as follows: “he was aware of the preciousness of writing with a real pen on real paper”. We have spoken about why writing is important and I think this line here kind of dictates how I feel about writing which is that it is precious and it’s immortal. Overall, I think the two pieces this week had a lot of parallels. I really enjoyed both of these pieces and I look forward to the presentations!

Retratos vivos de mama by Carolina López Jiménez

Retratos vivos de mama by Carolina López Jiménez this weeks electronic literature journey, I immediately was aware of how personal this experience felt. I loved that you could actually turn the pages of a book, it gave this piece the feeling of a real book (which I kind of have missed since this classes start), even though this experience was digital. The physical scrapbook filled with memories made me feel like I was a part of the story. The mix of handwritten notes, drawings, and photos made it feel alive, it made me think that I might even do something like this one day – something creative and expressive.

Even though the videos were in Spanish and I couldn’t fully understand what was being said, I still tried to listen closely to the tone and emotion behind the voices.

Mother Daughter relationships are complex. My mother is still alive, and our lives are closely intertwined, I stay at her house on weekdays to help her out, then go to my own home on weekends. Reading and watching Retratos vivos de mamá made me think about how every moment with my Mom is creating a new memory.  While it is impossible to imagine, my Moms age and health dictates that I should be aware that one day my life will exist without her.  I begin to say what a loss this would be for me personally and all who know her.

I was just watching a show and the person on it said “How we keep people alive is by saying their names” (I imagine he’d include memories on this). It inspired me to think about my own mother’s story and how much of it maybe I don’t know. Maybe I could convince the ever stubborn Reni to write her story down, so that someday, I can remember her not only through photos or memories, but through her own words.

Retratos vivos de mama is  a living archive of love, loss, and memory, just like a scrapbook.  It reminded me that storytelling, whether digital or handwritten, is one of the most beautiful ways to keep someone alive in our hearts. 

Writers Are Not Strangers by Lynda Clark

Writers Are Not Strangers by Lynda Clark, and it’s one of those e’lit pieces that makes you realize how alive words can feel on a screen. I noticed that this isn’t a story you read passively but you interact with it. You click, hover, and sometimes just sit there, letting the text reveal itself in fragments. One moment you’re reading a line about memory or a fleeting thought, and the next, a new phrase pops up in an unexpected place, like the words themselves are alive and watching you.

overlapping text and sudden shifts in tone, between perceived humor, melancholy, and even a bit of playfulness, make it feel almost like wandering through someone else’s mind. As I followed Alix navigating her world, I could sense the weight of her mother dying, the pressures of family expectations, and the tug of her own creative ambitions. I found myself returning to a section where the text reflected on connection and distance between people, and it felt surprisingly intimate, almost like a conversation I wasn’t supposed to overhear but couldn’t stop listening to.  I really got that writer reader connection.

By the end, what stayed with me was Alix’s constant need for feedback, how every choice, every story she shares, seems to hinge on someone else’s judgment. It was uncomfortable at times, watching her balance the pull of her own ambitions against her mother’s needs and the weight of family expectations. I found myself relating to her tension, that push and pull between what you want for yourself and what others need from you. Writers Are Not Strangers is a great reminder that writing, like life, is a negotiation, and that intimacy and discomfort often go hand in hand.