Nesse trecho, o autor atribui a riacho (um ser inanimado) uma qualidade própria de seres humanos: inocente. Identifique em qual(quais) dos trechos seguintes esse recurso também ocorre e dê a soma. “Águas que caem das pedras [...]
e depois dormem tranquilas
no leito dos lagos”
(01)

“Águas que movem moinhos
são as mesmas águas que encharcam o chão”
(02)

“Gotas de água da chuva
tão tristes são lágrimas na inundação”
(04)

“Águas que banham as aldeias
e matam a sede da população”
(08)

SOMA

.how are johansson’s photographs different than most others?

because his photographs are based on photo realism. photos where you will need a brief moment to think to figure it out the trick of it.

2.what makes his photographs seem real?

sometimes the perspective is the illusion. different pieces of reality and put them all together. and things that we don’t even think about.

3.what rules does johansson follow in his photography?

photos combined should have the same perspective. photos combined should have the same type of light.making it impossible to distinguish where the different images begin and end by making it seamless.

4.which of johansson’s creations did you like the best? why?

the big fish under the water with the house on top of the rock. because it's really hard to create pictures like that one, it requires a very precise moment to snap the picture

what are the options and what is the paragraph?

answer: compare a myth legend, or classic work of literature of you choice to a modern work that reinterprets it.focus on the similarities in theme between the newer work and the original, and provide examples that illustrate these themes from both works. the modern work may be any novel, movie, play, short story, or other storytelling medium with which you’re familiars long as it is clearly inspired by a myth, legend, or classic work of literature.

short-response prompt  

read the following excerpt from “fish cheeks” by amy tannin which tan recounts a christmas eve dinner.  

i fell in love with the minister’s son the winter i turned fourteen. he was not chinese, but as white as mary in the manger. for christmas i prayed for this blond-haired boy, robert, and a slim new american nose.  

on christmas eve i saw that my mother had outdone herself in creating a strange menu. she was pulling black veins out of the backs of fleshy prawns. the kitchen was littered with appalling mounds of raw food: a slimy rock cod with bulging fish eyes that pleaded not to be thrown into a pan of hot oil. tofu, which looked like stacked wedges of rubbery white sponges. a howl soaking dried fungus back to life. a plate of squid, their backs crisscrossed with knife markings so they resembled bicycle tires.  

after everyone had gone, my mother said to me. “you want to be the same as american girls on the outside.” she handed me an early gift. it was a miniskirt in beige tweed. “but in side you must always be chinese. you must be proud you are different. your only shame is to have shame.”

answer:

ok

explanation: