Essay on "Appreciating the Value of Ordinary Objects"

Quoted Instructions for "Appreciating the Value of Ordinary Objects" Assignment:

This is a essay from my critical thinking class, so i want to write some thing more critical, think deeply, and advance. My topic is a watch. Any watch is okay, but not too many details. Below is the requirement that my teacher reqires me to follow and are the requirement and infomation that i want u to follow and to know:(ESSAY EXAMPLE BELOW)

- Assignment sheet for Essay #1:Observation of "some Old Thing"

*First, the object that i would like you to write about is not a fruit ot vegetable. But rathr, i would like you to choose an item that is within your observation range every day of your life, something in or around your house or something in you room. (I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT A WATCH)

*The focus of this essay, the core, the essential element that i want you to concentrate on is not only an intense examination and description of the object(Look at your fish!), but the thoughts and feelings, the subjective element-- you, in other words, what is going on inside you during this examination process. That is of course what "Look at your fish" is really all about, and I'll be looking for the same thing. That element should be at least 50% of the essay.

*Another thing that is different is the length of your essay. You should aim for 5-6 and a half pages. Your introducation might explain how that object came to you, its history, its meaning for you, but keep that fairly brief.

*The essay should demonstrate good quality writing:sensible organization, good grammar and spelling, and a careful proofeading for catching errors and improving your phrasing-how things are stated. In an essay of this kind, you need to pay particular attention to your verb tenses. You can relate your observations in the present tense or the past, but whichever you choose, be consisten.

*Be sure to include your notes to the end of the essay.

*Double space.

*The font is 12 and use Arial or New York Times.

*Margin is 1 and a half inches all around the pages.

*Paragraphs should be indented 5 spaces.

*Also, please help me think of a title of my essay.

*I'm female and chinese.

*Below is a example of a essay that i want you to take a look at it and that is how i want you to help me write my essay. Similar to this but i want to write about a simple watch that i wear on my left hand every day.

*THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

A JOURNEY BETWEEN EYES AND MINDS:
RECORDING THE INTERNAL THOUGHTS IN AN OBSERVATION PROCESS


When I am reading the assignment paper, I feel no excitement. The purpose of this assignment -- finding the change of my subjective feelings and thoughts through the observation of an object -- really baffles me. But now, the exigent challenge is to search for an object that I would like to work with. I see nothing that catches my eyes either because of their mundane appearances or my own resistance. My words are exhausted and my imagination dies. As I sit still on my bed, the lids over my eyes grow heavier, so does the pressure on the bridge of my nose. Maybe I should take a rest. I reach up to my glasses and take them off my face. Suddenly, I find myself surrounded by a blurry world. Perplexity arises inside of me; I question the reality of my surroundings. My glasses create confusion. Within a second, I realize they are the only items I wear everyday. They have become an attachment and I am not aware of their existence. For a long time, my glasses have aided me in observing objects; ironically, my impression about these glasses is so fuzzy. Besides their general shape and color, I can recall no more details. I feel sorry for them.
Now I am holding the glasses in my palm. I still feel the warmth they inherited from my body. I can not see them clearly, so I decide to explore them by touch. I feel their bony skeleton. They have an irregular shape so my hand only contacts them at a few points. Depending on those limited contacts, I can not comprehend their shape but only in pieces. It is like retrieving an old memory, which always comes up as segments. I hold the glasses with a greater strength and it resists harder against my skin. It is made of stiff material, but their weight is light. It seems they are made of some kind of metal, similar to aluminum. Considering the thinness of their structure, I think there would be no difficulty in breaking them. I am amused by this devastating idea in my head, but wait a minute; I don’t want to break them now. I want to probe them.
I loosen my grip and use my sensitive fingers to investigate. I unfold the temples of the glasses, imagining a little girl is opening up her arms for a hug. I slide my fingers through every corner of its body, and soon I recognize its symmetric form. I am not surprised by these discoveries just the way that prophets always know their destinies. I stroke it with my two hands. The biggest parts of the glasses are two identical shells, one on the left and one on the right. These shells are made of plastic lenses and outer frames, and my fingers can tell the difference while touching them. Although both the frame and lenses have a slippery surface, the lenses seem to be a little sticky compared to the frame. I press the lenses and leave my fingerprints all over their surface. As I am doing this, I feel these glasses belong to me more and more, as if the fingerprints have transformed them into a special property that carries my gene. I keep moving my fingers. The lenses are slight concave and have a thickness around two millimeters. It's as if I'm holding a thick spoon. When my fingers move outward, I notice the edges of lenses grow thicker and they can not be covered perfectly by the frame. I do not see this as a flaw, but rather a speciality. In my interpretation, its imperfectness allows room for improvement, which is a good thing. This sudden thought leaves a smile on my face as I continue my observation. The frames which encircle the lenses are much thinner. The thinness reminds me of spaghetti. I circle my fingers along the frames and try to depict the contour line in my mind. Their diameters are a little smaller than the camellia leaf and their shape resembles an oval. It is not a simple oval though, for I feel the outer part is quite straight with two obtuse corners, where the spaghetti frame gets a bit wider. I am amazed by these changes in curvatures, for the continuity of the shape has not been interrupted.
When I feel I have examined the frames enough, I move to other parts. I rest my finger in the middle of the glasses. There is a small bridge that connects the inner side of the frames like a basket handle. As I am stroking it, I think of the tip of a parabola, which I saw in the Math class. Then I touch my snub nose and try to compare their curvatures. I repeat this motion until I am pleased with the fact that my nose has a steeper curve. It seems to be a pointless comparison so I laugh a little bit. Again, I pinch the small bridge with my thumb and forefinger. It must have a rectangular cross section because I feel the edges. Slightly off the bridge, I notice two little plastic egg-shaped pads. They are attached to the frames by short crooked wires. The pads are not tightly fixed; they can pivot a little in all directions. I feel their softness, and after they absorb my body heat, they get even softer. I find some oily substance on their surfaces. It must come from my face. I smell it, but I can hardly tell what the smell is. I can not decide it is the smell of the oily substance or it is the smell of my hand. All of a sudden, I feel disgusting, and goose pimples appear along my neck.
I move to the other side of the frames; each is connected by a small wire. These wires are in an S-shape. It is a stylish handwritten S. I begin to imagine the history of these Ss. They may originally appear in the manuscripts written by a monk in a small hermitage. He spent his life time duplicating the words of his God until his spirits integrated into the scripts. I feel relaxed as I am touching these Ss, as if they have magic power to comfort my soul.
There are tiny joints located at the tails of these wires. They connect to the temples. The temples are long compressed sticks with a soft turn toward the end. They are much like linguine, the flat pasta from Italy. I swing the temples and try to understand the movement of the joints, but they are too small for my fingers. The joints only allow the temples to move in one direction. As the temples move, I hear no sound at all. I listen with greater effort just as a parent eavesdropping outside their daughter’s bedroom, but I still hear nothing. I feel funny to keep swinging the temples, as if I am swinging the legs of a huge insect.
I stop making progress by just touching the glasses, so I think it’s time to bring them in for a closer look. I feel no surprise in seeing them, as though I have known them for a long time, but exploring them with my eyes is a whole new experience for me. I’m able to appreciate the visual details after my tactile investigations. The frame is lacquered with a plain silver color, which coordinates subtle greenish-blue tone. The coating is dull, so it does not have a ***** reflection of the light. I think this is a modest quality. Small abrasions appear at the end corners of the temples. The flimsy coating is missing and the inner material is exposed. I clearly see it is made of some kind of metal. It has a tarnished surface. I continue to look at the lenses. My finger print makes them misty. I carefully wipe them with my cloth until they return transparency. I hold the glasses in a distance, and my eyes try to focus on the images inside the lense, but doing this makes me dizzy. I look at the lense from a lower angle. I can only see the impressions of images and the carmine reflecting light. As I change my observation angle, ripples appear in the lense. I imagine a leaf falls on the surface of water. I turn my focus to the edges of the lenses. I confirm that part of the edges is much thicker and projects out from the frames; however, it does not look ugly to me. I notice the edges have not been highly polished and present a frosted texture.
I inspect it for a little longer until I convince myself there are no more details I can find. Maybe I can discover more if I put it under a microscope, but I think it is a plodding idea. Observing these glasses has been a long journey for me. I am astonished that so many words and feelings have come up during the process. I suspect there is another ***** living inside my body, one who love to observe, to think and to imagine. I realize there is always so much happening around me, yet I have chosen to simply ignore them.