3D PRINT KEYCHAINS

This was my first ever time 3D printing. I had never done it before. I didn’t know how it would work in full detail, but that wasn’t required from me. We were asked to create a keychain that symbolises our name. At first, I thought it would be pretty easy to make a keychain with my name on it. But I remembered about how I underestimated the frog project so I had the mindset that it would be something which was not easy. Even though I had that mindset, the back of my mind didn’t think much of it and thought it would be very simple. There was nothing I could do to stop that thought. I did not expect this to be challenging, I expected this to be a fun little thing to do for the class.

The procedure was very basic and simple. We had to create our design online. Once we were happy with it, it goes to get 3D printed, and we would not get our designs until the next class. After that, we receive our rough-edged design. We smoothen up our designs with sandpaper and the last thing to do, is to hydro dip it (basically colour our design). In my opinion, there was nothing hard about this. Making the design was fairly easy. Sand papering it wasn’t really a challenge and hydro dipping it was just very fun. I was really happy with how mine turned out, when it had just been 3D printed. I did not expect it to be as smooth as it did when I had gotten it.

I thought that I had been pretty successful with this project. My rough 3D design had come out really well. Better than I expected. I had chosen blue and white for hydro dipping. That is one thing that I would have to change. 2 colours don’t really work out in my opinion. I would have liked to only kept it one colour instead of using two. The white looks as if it was just splashed on the blue, as opposed to actually blending in with the blue. If it had been one colour, it would have looked more smooth and clean. I would have preferred to have my name coloured in just white. I feel that it would look much better that way.

Frog Procedure

So first of all, once I had been introduced about making a bouncing paper frog, I was kind of looking forward to it. It could be one of those things that I play around with as I’m thinking, doing my homework, etc… In addition, i thought it would be simple and straightforward. Plus, it would be pretty cool to have an origami frog in your room for show. Having a paper frog is weird but pretty cool at the same time according to me. It would make you look creative if anyone other than yourself entered your room and looked around to find the frog just sitting on the desk.

A thought that never crossed my mind was the procedure being a bit tough. I thought I was good at folding, and I was, to some extent. The phrase “it’s easier said than done” is one sentence I would use to describe the procedure. When the teacher was folding it, I thought to myself that it wouldn’t be that tough. But, when I had tried it, it was kind of tough and I couldn’t get the paper to fold properly. The folds that was asked for me to make, was very confusing and it was, funnily enough, something that I was very unfamiliar with.

The only thing that was easy for me, was after we got the basic shape of the frog. I had managed to make mine jump pretty far when I tested it. The folding was very simple from there, nothing too complex for me. The folds were not as tough as it was when initially making it. It was at this moment when I really started to enjoy making the frog. I had alot of fun making the frog jump, and that got me happy and motivated because what I was doing, was working. However, a teacher from out of the class had called me to talk about something, so I could not completely finish the frog with the flashing lights.

For all that I did with making the frog (before the light), I would say that I was successful. However, I did not single-handedly construct the frog. I had requested needed help from my peers and my teacher in order to make the frog successful. If I could try this again, I know that I could make my folds more smooth and I am fairly certain that I could do this by myself with the procedure given to me.

Eshan’s Historical Fiction Vignettes 

That’s Just How It Is

I breathed in the fresh city air as I pace towards my Job. I wasn’t needed in the countryside anymore. I was shamefully replaced by a machine… So were hundreds of other people I know. God knows what they’re doing right now. The industrial revolution is well under way–I don’t think i can keep up. Well, that is why I’m here, working at a mass production factory. It’s worlds apart from fun, but whatever pays the bills. I enter the factory and the minute I do, I get shouted at.

 I get called names everyday, I’ve been threatened to be hurt and hell, they would even threaten to cut some of my wage off if my hair wasn’t done a certain way or if my shoes weren’t polished properly. They would put every single flaw on my road just to save money for themselves.

That’s just how it is.

Hey! You! Why aren’t your shoes all clean? And that hair! My “boss” said violently.

But sir, that isn’t of your c-c-concern, I reply back as I tremble with my words.

Did you just talk back to me!? He shouted. I’m cutting your wage off by 25 percent! Let this be a lesson for others to never talk back to your boss, He added on.

 It’s like roaming in pitch-black darkness. There’s nothing stopping you from doing it, but it’s hard to walk around. You’re definitely going to trip and there’s nothing you can do about it.

  I really do wish I could say something back. However, in this world, there are superiors and inferiors. My family are depending on me to flourish their lives–that’s what i’ve been working for all this time. I quit my daydreaming and get to work as soon as possible. I try to hear for sounds other than the work of the machines. But I hear absolutely nothing. No chatter whatsoever. 

That’s just how it is.

 I don’t see it getting any better. One unapproved word and your wage is probably cut in half.

 That’s just how it is.

 No justice in the air at all. I do my work quietly just as how everybody else is doing. I drop an item and it shatters into pieces. I try to cover it up but it’s too late. My “boss” starts to yell at me. He starts to say these nasty words about my family and I. I couldn’t handle it one single bit. But I suppress my anger. I forcefully stop my volcano from erupting. 

He is superior to me and that’s just how it is.

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My Long Lost Brother


My Brother, whom I haven’t seen for 3 years is finally in front of me. My Brother, who stuck by my side even during the darkest days. My Brother, whom I love worlds more than my parents. I could never see the day where I would meet him again. He, without us knowing, left for work to the US to give Ma, Pa and I a better life. Atleast, thats why I think he left home. Now that I’m finally 18, I could do the same, but now I’m sure I’ll give my family a better life.

 I take one step towards him.

I remember, so long ago, on a rainy night I was crying. The rain was assaulting the ground brutally and the sky was of pitch-black darkness. He stuck by me, he let me sleep in absolute warmth while he kept his eyes open for me. I do remember that we had school tomorrow on that day. But I guess that didn’t matter to him… When it comes to me, it never did.

I take another step towards him.

Then there’s that day… The day I so wish to forget but it seems nearly impossible. The day where I wish I could just—

July 2nd, 1898 was the day he left for America. Like a knife to my heart. That knife is still within me, it was never taken out, since I’ve never gotten over it. I know he loves us, but he never told us that he went. He only left a note. Is that all we are to him? Is that all a family is to him? A note?

Everybody clears out of the ferry in a blink of an eye, while I slowly take my steps. I take in deep breaths.

He’s out there. He’s looking for me. Like I’m an escapee.

I shake my head along with my thoughts. I get off the ferry and I head towards my Brother. 

Hey, I said nervously.

Not now, I’m looking for my Brother, He responds.

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The Ride To The US


My past is buried underground. My wretched, crooked past is finally behind my eye. I want to start a new life in the USA. No, I WILL start a new life here. 
Here are your papers sir, welcome to the US, the official says,

Thank you very much, I respond.

I carry my bag on the right, and my map on the left. It’s time to start all over again. I take my very first steps on the ferry to the city. Although there was no true difference as of now, I feel like i’m in on another planet. The air is fresh, the atmosphere is emotionally warm, and I feel free. I am ready to become someone new. I’m ready to become someone loved. I’m ready to become someone well known. I keep these positive emotions in my head–I’ll need it for all the events I’ll face in the upcAs I wait for the ferry to arrive to the main city, I get weird looks shot at my direction. I feel a slight unease in my stomach. What did I do? Is my hair alright? Every possible negative thought goes in and out of my head. I move to another spot. Nothing changes. It’s as if I’m being constantly poked wherever I go. I feel as if  time goes by slower if I’m in a problem, and it goes faster if im not in one and iI can’t take the weird looks from these people. Suddenly, to my left, a man initiates a conversation with me.

You should not be here, the man says with a confused look on his face.

Why? This is a country of freedom, I reply back.

B-b-but you’re Italian… it says on your bag, He says, but louder.

 The man does not say anything after that. I tried to say something back but before I could, he pretended he never even talked to me. Like I was just an illusion.What is the USA? My late Papa told me it was a friendly country, full of opportunities. He never ever said that they are rude and judgemental. I never thought a country like this would remind me of back home.

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