Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Universal Language

This is a version of one of my favorite scenes in Friel's Translations. It is so odd, the two say the same words back and forth in different languages. They don't understand each other and yet they know they love each other. I do honestly feel this scene expresses the quote "love is the universal language" perfectly.




Their love is childish sounding; the two have never really spoken and they know nothing about the person they claim to love. How is this possible? How can someone give their love away like that? It is so strange, yet entrancing. It is impossible to keep from getting caught up in the moment when watching this scene so maybe it was impossible for them to keep from getting caught in the moment with each other.

So while debating this scene in my mind, I have circled around one general question: is a universal language possible? I keep relating this to the question of a universal religion or faith; it seems like too many people are caught in their old ways and will never conform to something that isn't their own. But could love be considered a universal language? I guess it could be, but is love a language? I have been utterly unable to come to a conclusion.
Any thoughts?!

Writing [my meaning]

It is still difficult for me to say what my strengths and weaknesses are when it comes to writing. At the beginning of the semester, I thought my only *major* weaknesses were needing to keep my essay within the page limit and my inability to edit my work. I found out there were far more problems I would be confronted with this year....

These include but are not limited to style (too colloquial, too much passive voice, phrases are repeated all too often, etc) and form/format (paragraphs out of order, not cohesive, too many thoughts for so little space). Finding out these weaknesses actually forced me to fix one my original one about editing. By the end of the semester, I have formed a new method of editing. I write the paper and let it sit. Then re-read it and take out all colloquial language and passive voice. Once again, I let it sit. I repeat this a few more times making sure all spelling errors and such are gone as well. After all of that, I re-read it for cohesiveness - is there anything I can remove or that doesn't fit? - making sure the paper flows well. With all of this editing, I manage to fix the page length as well (majority of the time....) After all of this work is complete, I submit the paper (with shaking hands... no matter how much work I put in to the paper, there are always many other things that are wrong...)

So now, looking back over this long semester, I have found a few new strengths I hadn't been able to see. I have been able to mold my writing process, form, and style to fit with what is expected. Instead of being stuck in my ways, I am willing to change and have worked extremely hard over the semester to try and be exactly what I am expected to be. My form has even begun transforming into a strength! I have improved my transitions and stopped including every random thing that pops in my mind. This semester has helped me immensely. I know my style and all are still things I can improve. I will be working in the future to improve these weaknesses and maybe someday they will become strengths.
Over this semester I have gone from pleased with my writing to absolutely hating everything I did to once again pleased with my work. I know I have improved and know that I will continue improving. I will take this experience and grow from it.

Rereading my metaphor on my very first blog post made me laugh. I glanced back at it while writing this post to make sure I mentioned the right weaknesses and such. I had forgotten all about my metaphor. It seems so true. Writing as a battle. Still seems to be like that. I have to fight myself and convince myself to reread my paper just one more time in order to make it just that much better. It gets so very frustrating! I am happy I am improving and I hope someday I can find more joy in the writing process. I guess we'll find out soon enough....

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Names

Names are given to us at birth and follow us until our dying day when a man with shaking hands carves it into a hard, gray stone that will sit above us for the rest of time. Some are chosen with familial references, others historical, and others were picked on a whim. The reasons for our name follows for just as long as the name itself.

Lucy, for example, from Jamaica Kincaid's novel Lucy, struggles with her name. She is named after Lucifer, the devil himself. Her mother chose this name for her, well, because I guess she thought of her as the spawn of the devil. Not a very motherly attitude if you ask me. Her middle name, Josephine, comes from her Uncle Joseph who was supposed to be rich. Her parents thought naming a kid after him would make him feel honored and he would, in the end, leave all of his money to the child. They then realized he was completely broke and living in a tomb. But Lucy's mother proceeded to name her beautiful baby girl after him anyways. Lucy's last name, Potter, has an even worse background. It's the name of the slaveholder who owned her relatives. Good memory to keep, huh?

My name comes from my great grandparents. I love all of the stories I hear and I find comfort in knowing I was named after two wonderful people. I was even born on their anniversary. Unlike Lucy, my name makes me feel connected to my family in a way I love and would hate to be without. This familial tie brings with it familial history that I will carry with me forever.

Names do carry with them history; it isn't a matter of whether they should or not, they just do. It's impossible to avoid. Of course, their are names that have no official history and I guess then they don't carry any with them... But for those that do, the history will always be there. I also believe that as we go through life and meet people, we begin to tie characteristics to names. I met a girl once named Julia who was really nice and sweet, so now I consider Julia's to be nice and sweet. Eh, maybe I'm just weird...

Here are a few other blogs with very similar posts to ponder =D


Friday, November 13, 2009

Belief and Knowledge - Religion

–noun
1. set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.
2. a specific fundamental set of beliefs and practices generally agreed upon by a number of persons or sects: the Christian religion; the Buddhist religion.
3. the body of persons adhering to a particular set of beliefs and practices: a world council of religions.
Origin:
1150–1200; ME religioun (<>religion) <>religiōn- (s. of religiō) conscientiousness, piety, equiv. to relig(āre) to tie, fasten (re- re-+ ligāre to bind, tie; cf. ligament ) + -iōn- -ion; cf. rely


It's a pretty loaded word, isn't it? Brings up some deep, passionate feelings and beliefs. I have had many a debate simply because someone mentioned this one simple word in such a way that contradicted my meaning. But what is it really?

In a conversation about belief vs knowing (belief as in religion ; knowledge as in scientific proof and such), I came to the conclusion that belief fills the holes knowledge cannot. At least that is how it seems to work for me. If I don't know something or I find myself afraid of something, I turn to my religion for answers. It seems like that was common among at least a few others in the group (and please correct me if I'm wrong about that)

-I don't know how the world was created so I turn to the bible.
-I am afraid when I am alone in the dark so I turn to prayer.
-I worry about what comes after death so I turn to the church's teachings.

With this realization, I got to thinking. How can someone live without religion? I would surely go absolutely insane without it. ((Of course, I guess you could argue one could absolutely insane with it too...)) I really can't imagine my life without it. Does anyone have any thoughts on the topic? Or another definition of religion to ponder?

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Panther


The Panther; Fierce, strong, violent, endangered

Throughout all of our discussions, we have found the panther to be almost like an alternate personality or an outside representation of Ama in the novel Power. Ama is seen in much the same light as the panther. When Omishto describes Ama for the first time, she mentions how beautiful Ama looks from a distance but as you get closer, you see her ribs and her gray hair. When Omishto describes the panther, she mentions much the same thing. As she nears the creature, she sees the scratches on it's skin and the signs of aging. The comparison between the character and the creature is very clear and is expressed often but there are other less obvious ties to the panther:

1. The endangered nature of the Taiga culture
2. The possible death of the culture
3. Omishto and Ama's tie to nature

The story leaves the panther as a general symbol, one that cannot be tied directly to anything but rather connects to almost everything. The magnificent creature plays a very important role in the novel. A different version of the novel actually shows the panther on the cover.


It is interesting to note that even after it's death, the panther plays a very important role in the novel. Only about half way through is it killed by Ama, but the consequences of that act and the mark it left on Omishto still exists and the panther continues to impact the story.




Here is a video about the florida panther I found very interesting. Some facts I found shocking: 17 were killed in 2007 and here are only about 70-100 of them left.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Omnia Vincit Amor!

How can one make them self sufficiently holy to participate in a Holy war?!

The question perplexed me as I heard it echo through the cold, silent auditorium. How is it even possible? Can a person ever be Holy enough to take the lives of other human beings? I thought the choice of life or death was meant to be only up to God?

Professor William Chester Gordon attempted to answer this question in his lecture Crusader Prologues: Preparing for War in the Gothic Age. He mentioned 6 specific tasks: confession, prayer, the blessing of weapons, the vesting of shields, the making and publishing of a will.

In the middle ages, confession was meant only to be done around Easter or when a person was on their deathbed. Taking confession before leaving for battle merely allowed the person to fight with some peace of mind. If they were to be killed in battle, they would be reassured their soul would enter the pearly gates of Heaven. In the last fifteen minutes while Professor Gordon took questions from the audience, a woman asked if the men requested forgiveness for the lives they were to take in battle. The response? No! This surprised me for a minute, but listening to the explanation, it made more sense. They honestly believed they were killing in the name of God and that those who died by their sword were meant to be killed. No forgiveness was needed.

The next step was to undo all the wrongs committed during their lifetimes. They had to improve relations with anyone they may have hurt over the years as well as return any money they may have earned unjustly. I can't imagine they actually were able to undo EVERY wrong, but I guess they must have made a pretty good effort...

Prayer was extremely important. They prayed for strength and protection from God and the saints. They even saw death and injury on the battle field as the saints method of testing those fighting. Prayers were done individually, but most were embedded in elaborate ceremonies.

The blessing of weapons was such a ceremony. Each individual celebrated the ceremony at the church with the most meaning to them. They picked the one they grew up in or wanted to be buried by or something of that sort. The blessing of arrows was supposed to be done on January 20th because that was the day of Saint Sebastian. He is said to have been shot by many arrows after being caught protecting and acting as a Christian during the Roman emperor Diocletian's persecution of Christians. Seems like a strange day to pick, but I guess it works!

The vesting of the shield followed. They blessed each shield to protect both the body and soul of whoever may hold it. It was blessed in the name of the Holy Trinity.

The creation and publishing of a will was simply meant to be a way to hope for salvation and forgiveness.
(These last two seemed pretty rushed. Must have been a time constraint or something...)

A few other tid bits of information I found interesting were: some crusaders actually requested to be branded with a cross prior to battle... today tattooing is a far more common choice, crusaders did not have a "willingness for war" but rather a "hope for returning", most weapons were actually given holy names, Mary was seen as a protector who would watch over her "adopted sons" in battle, her figure was printed on flags carried out to war.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

I Love Lucy!

I have found the novel by Jamaica Kincaid Lucy to be one of my favorites! I love the language, the colors, the images! I can't wait to start reading again!

The language is descriptive and makes me feel as if I am there with her; staring at the pale sun in winter or standing by the dancing yellow daffodils. The colors are vibrant and beautiful! I could picture the all yellow kitchen with the sunlight glowing through the window on the still figure with yellow hair.

I feel terrible for Lucy; she seems so upset about everything. She hates the flowers, is envious of Mariah, feels like her dreams are unfulfilled because the buildings in he new city are not what she imagined they would be, and will seemingly never really be happy. It makes me wish I could help her.

I am hoping everything improves for her as the book continues, but I have to say, I do not get that feeling. Let's just hope for the best!!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Destroying my Doubts...

"All my life I always wanted to fly. I always wanted to live like a hawk. I know you're not supposed to be jealous of anything, but... to take flight, to soar above everything and everyone, now that's living." - Hugo, "O"

"O" (2001) is a modern adaptation of Shakespeare's Othello. The movie takes much the same course as the play; following with the same themes such as jealousy and plots. The idea of jealousy is my main focus.

In the first scene we see this when Hugo mentions he is jealous of the hawk. The dark, beautiful creature that flies above all else. It is loved by all even though it is so very different. While watching the blurred doves fly around the enclosed room, I began to make a connection. The doves are small and white. They fly in their room, following one another. They are ignored. The hawk, on the other hand, is dark and mysterious. It is brought out at every basketball game. It is beloved. This shows what Hugo thinks of Odin. He sees Odin as the hawk, flying above all else, living life on a never ending high. He comes from a different background and is different in almost every way and yet nobody fears him. They respect him. Hugo is like everyone else and is simply ignored. He is pushed aside like the white doves.

When planning and beginning to write this post, I wanted to find the exact quote from the beginning of the movie. When searching, I happened upon this one:


"All my life I always wanted to fly. I always wanted to live like a hawk. I know you're not supposed to be jealous of anything, but... to take flight, to soar above everything and everyone, now that's living. But a hawk is no good around normal birds. It can't fit in. Even though all the other birds probably wanna be hawks; they hate him for what they can't be. Proud. Powerful. Determined. Dark. Odin is a hawk. He soars above us. He can fly. One of these days, everyone's gonna pay attention to me. Because I'm gonna fly too." - Hugo, "O"

It was exciting to see my theories proven in this way, but it also made me a little disappointed. Does the movie need to state this so clearly? Can they leave anything to be inferred? It seems as if the entire movie takes out all of the questions that one could get from reading Othello. In the play, we can question if Emilia knew she was doing something wrong, but in the movie we are shown quite clearly she did. In the play, we question if Othello and Desdemona consummated their marriage, but in the movie we see that clearly as well. Now, this one small mystery I greatly enjoyed analyzing, has been proven in the most obvious of ways. It could be the point of the film; trying to keep the viewer from leaving with doubt. I just found the doubt to be part of the fun in Othello. I absolutely loved sitting after finishing reading and discussing every possibility. Analyzing Shakespeare's every word. Now I am left to deal with the obvious and it has left me feeling a little angry. Did anyone else feel the same way? Or is do you disagree?

Source for quotes: "O"

Monday, October 5, 2009

Representative Reputation


Eyes are like open books; staring into them allows you to see a person's soul. Or so they say...

The two simple circles used to represent "self" and "reputation," as Caroline pointed out, look oddly similar to an eye. I have greatly enjoyed examining this theory and have decided this may have been on purpose;

The color of the eye (or iris) is, of course, the first thing we all notice. It may be the only thing we notice about the eye. Some we immediately recognize as beautiful while others are considered ordinary. Reputation is very similar to this. It is the first thing we hear about a person. This reputation is then what is used to judge what we think of the person. Some we immediately recognize as kind and others we fear or dislike.

Pupils are often ignored, as they are dark and difficult to see. They change often, growing and shrinking in the changing light. They control the main functions of the eye yet are still ignored in everyday life unlike their counterpart, the iris. This is similar to the self, or true personality, of people. It takes more than just listening to stories or hearing other people's opinions to truly get to know a person. You must focus on that small black ever-changing circle to truly learn the function of the eye just as you must focus on the ever-changing individual personality to truly understand a person.

The similarity I found between the figure and an eye is the idea mentioned above- staring into a person's eyes allows you to see their soul. It is a very overused, corny statement that holds significant importance to my argument. Just glancing at the outer circle (reputation) will not allow you to get to know a person for who they are. You must stare until the inner circle (self) becomes clear and separates itself from the rest.

In Shakespeare's Othello, characters boast the significance of reputation. This comes to be a rather important theme. Each character has a skewed perspective of another because of reputation, and that leads to trouble. Othello has a skewed perspective of Desdemona after Iago messes with her reputation with false stories. Roderigo has a skewed perspective of Iago because he thinks Iago is loyal and is acting as his friend when really Iago is quite the opposite. If any of the characters took the time to recognize that reputation is not everything (and true self is far more important) all this trouble could have been avoided.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Fleshy Narratives!

Excess, elaborate descriptions of human feelings and all those gushy, lovey-dovey statements are the fleshy attribute to traditional fiction. In stripping away the inessentials and pealing off every useless word one by one, we will begin to see the bones of a work of literary art. This is precisely what postmodern fiction does. Instead of hiding the structure with the unnecessary extras, postmodern fiction "bares instead its structural bones, brings them to the surface, and retires" (page 34, Living by Fiction, Dillard). This can be far more difficult to do than traditional fiction. One must land upon a nearly perfect form and execute it immaculately for postmodern fiction to work. Traditional fiction can skip planning a form and structure and cover it up with beautifully written sentiments.

Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino is a perfect example of postmodern fiction. The structure, as I have mentioned in previous posts, is astounding. The mathematical pattern of the section numbers, the sine wave or cityscape that arises from these numbers, the well written, yet short, descriptions of cities placed in a well planned order. If he had written with any other form or chosen any other structure for the book, he very well would have failed and been forgotten over the years. To return to the bodily description of postmodern fiction, the bones would be his mathematical structure for the book which is shown so clearly. (What I find even more interesting is that, even if one should miss this structure while reading Invisible Cities for the first time, they will lose no respect for the writer. The style of writing is so easy to read, allowing one to simply flow through the pages with ease, shows his genius.) The poetic writing style is like the torso, the center of the structure or bones. Not to sound too cliche, but the beauty of his writing is in perfect contrast to the mathematical, more harsh structure of the book. This supports the structure and gives it more interest. The conversations between Kublai Kan and Marco Polo are the soft, light flesh making the book into a novel, creating a sense of time. This flesh isn't near thick enough to hide the bones. It is extremely thin, only thick enough to hold the bones together.

Invisible Cities has been my favorite reading and I am sad to watch it slowly pass over the horizon. I now, however, begin to dust off Othello and open the crisp pages to read it once again. I am sure many posts will come as I delve into the mind of Shakespeare!

Hannah Hoch (1889-1978)

Hannah Hoch
(Collaboration with Hausmann)


Hannah Hoch was one of the originators (or pioneers) of photomontage. She was born in 1889 in Germany. In 1912 she began studying at the College of Arts and Crafts in Berlin. To please her father, she studied glass design and graphic design instead of fine arts. At the end of her schooling in 1914, she worked for the red cross (at the start of WWI.) Hoch became friends with Raoul Hausmann, a member of the Berlin Dada movement (cultural movement in beginning in Switzerland that concentrated anti-war politics through a rejection of standards in art) in 1915. Hoch's involvement with the Berlin Dadists began in 1919. She later worked in the handicrafts department for Ullstein Verlang (and the influence from this job is seen in much of her later works in the form of dress patterns and textiles. ) From 1926 10 1929,k she lived and worked in the Netherlands.
Hannah Hoch's work with collage began more thoroughly during her relationship with Hausmann. The relationship took a toll on Hoch emotionally, but helped her grow artistically. The two worked together on the piece "Dada-Cordial" in 1920. This piece can be seen above. Even when this piece was released stating they worked on it collaboratively, Hoch was still seen as Hausmann's lover, not his equal.
The piece, "Dada-Cordial," in my opinion, was created in the Dadists movement as a way to fight the standards of art. This piece is far from classic, formal, fine art. It is far more scrapbook like. The images are abstract, and balance seems to be almost ignored in the piece, yet the format and style is still pleasing to the eye. This piece fits well into the Dadist movement and would suit the ideas it hopes to show rather well.





Another of her pieces I found to be interesting is Cut with the Dada Kitchen Knife through the Last Weimer Beer-Belly Cultural Epoch in Germany, 1919. This is a collage of pasted papers totals at at 90x144 cm in size. It is currently at the Staatliche Museum, Berlin. Eacxh figure shown is either missing its face, has a serious face on a ridiculous body, or a silly face on a very serious body. The word "Dada" can be seen throughout the piece in newspaper text as well as "die" and "anti." This piece is very well balanced; the opposing corners have the same density. The top right and lower left are very dense with images while the top left and lower right are far less dense. The images are seemingly mocking the government and war just as the Dadist movement wants.


Cut with the Dada Kitchen Knife through the
Last Weimer Beer-Belly Cultural Epoch in Germany, 1919

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Le Città Invibili

Of course, I found the structure of the table of contents of Invisible Cities to be extremely creative. I loved the idea that it was a cityscape. So, after the question today about the table of contents in Italian, I started searching for a picture. What I managed to find made me a little disappointed. I found on wikipedia a summary of the book in Italian and it included the full table of contents in Italian. (Click here to see what I found.) I was disappointed because the text looks to be much less city-like. It is far more "flat" on the ends. The middle could still be considered a city-scape, but the first and last sections ruin it for me... The lengths of the names of the chapters are all far more similar than those in English.

Check it out and let me know what you think!!

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Invisible Cities

(My analysis of the book is a true stream of conscienceness that may appear random at times. I jump from idea to idea in pure excitement over everything one can gather and interpret from Calvino's work and I will probably being adding more soon enough.)


Calvino uses interesting transitions in his novel Invisible Cities. The transition I found most obvious was actually one of the first. At the end of Cities & Memory 2, Calvino says "Desires are already memories." (page 8.) The section directly after that, curiously enough is Cities & Desire 1. It is quite obvious Calvino is trying to tie the two sections together here and he does so quite obviously. I feel this proves the idea that one cannot read the sections out of order. If you try to read all of the City & Memory sections without reading everything in between, you will be lost and unable to fully comprehend the point. To understand the idea of desire, you will in turn better understand the idea of memory, and so on.

Calvino also uses a very noticeable pattern. The numbers of the sections go as follows: (1), (2, 1), (3, 2, 1), (4, 3, 2, 1), (5, 4, 3, 2, 1)... The pattern is a constant rise and fall of numbers. When the book itself is turned sideways and opened to the table of contents, this pattern forms a visual cityscape. The changing lengths of the titles, rising and falling, act like the buildings of a city on the horizon. This number pattern therefore not only makes the novel more cohesive by allowing the sections to flow together better, but also allows the reader to find this visual phenomena of text.

Calvino, in describing the cities, at times appears to not be talking about a city at all. The names he chooses to use are all female names and in occasional passages, it truly appears that he is describing a person. The section of Anastasia was the one I first truly noticed this in. Although Calvino constantly mentions that he is discussing a city, the words he uses feel like descriptions of a woman or love. "... for while the description of Anastasia awakens desires one at a time only to force you to stifle them, when you are in the heart of Anastasia one morning your desires waken all at once and surround you" (page 12.) This passage could easily be a description of a person falling in love with another person. On either side of the passage is the word "city" which pulled me back down to reality and kept me in tune with the passage in its entirety. But while these words floated through my mind, I couldn't help but drift into a daydream of an alternative, more beautiful meaning.

As I stated in my previous post, I also enjoyed thinking about the idea of looking at things again and again from all different angles and seeing something new each time. I found it so very interesting when I learned all the descriptions were of a single city. As always, I drifted into another "mental rant." This one was about how I had experienced this idea of multiple views. New York is one of my favorite cities. I have been there so many times, stayed in different hotels, and been in different buildings. Each view and angle is always just ever so different. There is the bustling, loud, fun times square and then there is the quiet, solemn spot where the twin towers used to stand. When describing the two areas, it would sound as if I was describing different cities, but both descriptions are necessary to explain to someone who had never been to New York before what it is really like.

Looking at Cities...




After reading Invisible Cities, I began to think about how a person sees a city. I immediately thought of this video I had seen last year in one of my art classes. It may seem odd that I made a connection between the two seemingly very different things, but I found a strange and maybe useless conclusion in my mind. Both the novel and the video show how people can see a city with perfect accuracy only when they look at it from different angles. In the video, we see a man with a very unique ability to recreate a city exactly how it is, with every detail shown perfectly. To do so, he needed to take a helicopter ride, seeing each building and street from many different angles and heights. In the novel, we see this when Marco Polo describes the cities with the exact count of chimneys or miniscule details such as that. He shows us how looking from different angles, we can see things we would have never noticed before. We realize this when he tells us all the"cities" he described are all really one city. I found both of these to be very intriguing and enjoyed finding a connection between the two!!

Monday, September 21, 2009

Peace; Now, Now, Now

The documentary Pray the Devil Back to Hell was everything the front cover said it was; uplifting, disheartening, inspiring, enraging.
I was uplifted by the three women and their strength as they fought for what they believed in; peace.
I was disheartened to see the children who were forced to fight and kill their families as well as when I heard how one out of three people were displaced from their homes in Liberia.
I was inspired when the women forced the men in charge to go to the peace conference and refused to let them leave until an agreement was reached.
I was enraged to see the young men taking pride in every life they took as they fought for power.

Leaving the small theatre today, I was full of confusing thoughts. Everything I felt in that short hour and a half bubbled up inside me and became nearly overwhelming. In the first scene, we see an image of children, anywhere from 8-13 years old, holding guns. A short set of white words slowly fade onto the screen. The intensity set in after a moment; they said that these children, forced to join a war they didn't understand, were also forced to kill their mothers and fathers. I couldn't even imagine what horrific things these children saw or did but that alone was enough to send chills up my spine.

Only moments later they stated the fact that one out of three people were displaced. After a long conversation today about displacement and the negative connotations tied to the word, I realized the severity of the situation. In the conversation, events such as WWII with concentration camps and the Native American reservations in the early days of North American civilization were discussed. These are two events I know something about and when I recognized the connection, I was once again horrified.

However, for everything that disturbed me, there was something to once again rise my hopes. Every moment like that was brought on by the group of women fighting for peace. They showed strength, courage, and love while fighting the rising war groups. They never needed to use any means of violence. They held their signs, chanted, and sang. It was a true expression of power in numbers. While the men deliberated in the peace meeting, the women positioned themselves to block every exit. They refused to move until an agreement was made. It was actions like these that were brought on in a moments notice with support from many different people with different beliefs that brought peace to Liberia.

(Check this out if you didn't get a chance to watch the documentary!)

Saturday, September 19, 2009

I'm OK, You're OK

My first attempt with Adobe Photoshop Premier Pro CS4!! These are two videos Itook at a Coldplay concert in 2008.

(This is one is extremely simple because I spent most of my time working with Rose on a project! To see it check out her blog!)






Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I am NOT a feminist, but...

Today I heard Professor Susan Douglas' talk "Fantasies of Girl Power: How the Media Make Feminism Seem Unnecessary, and Sexism Fun?" My favorite of her many sentiments was her early description of how the media portrays feminists; a group of raging lesbians or insane woman who find sexism in every possible thing. Not to mention they have hairy legs and are hideously ugly. So therefore no woman in her right mind would EVER want to admit to be a f-word!! That explains why women today must always begin their feminist-sounding sentiments with "I am NOT a feminist, but..." It seems silly that the media has taken a very powerful movement and turned into a terrible idea held only by social outcasts. It seems everyone just wants to pretend we have reached full equality and will go on living without a care. The media certainly is giving us that idea! Professor Douglas touched on how television today portrays women in powerful, high-paying positions in rather important businesses. She also mentioned how this makes the media "ahead of its time" because we are not quite there yet seeing as women are still being paid around 50% less than men.

My favorite group Professor Douglas mentioned to be "feminist" was the Spice Girls. They promoted "Girl Power!" which was a toned down, secretive way of promoting further equality and feminist beliefs. The Spice Girls could teach young women that they should always be treated fairly by men and that they should not except inequality without being looked down upon. It was a rather ingenious plan that stretched over a few generations!!

As Professor Douglas continued, she showed us the downfalls in our society. She said that she wonders how Hooters is still in business or how all of those Spring Break shows are on television still if women have been making further leaps towards equality. I found this interesting, seeing the downfall in my own life in a way. I know I am one to watch trashy tv. I understand it is bad to portray women in this light, but come on, it is still entertaining! Especially after a long day of classes when your brain feels fried and you really just need a good pick-me-up. I am most definitely one of the girls she described, the ones who gather in groups to watch shows like My Super Sweet Sixteen simply to laugh and judge the girls who try to jump into the limelight, if even for an instant. So my question is... does this make me a bad person? Or a bad "female" per se? Am I not helping the feminist movement by watching these shows?

The reach for equality between men and women is something not very difficult to mentally grasp but so very difficult to physically grasp. Why? I have no clue. Seems simple enough, it isn't like women haven't proven themselves to be equal in almost every sense. So why are women paid less and why do women have lesser jobs? Will this ever change? It is pretty difficult to fathom a world different than the one we live in now, but I hope whole-heartedly that someday equality for all is reached so that we can all live "happily ever after"...


Girl, Interrupted Movie Clip

This has to be my favorite scene!!! It really was the first time I liked Lisa. I thought it was great the way they all stick up for Susanna!

(warning, a little explicit...)

Girl, Interrupted

"Was I ever crazy? Maybe. Or maybe life is... Crazy isn't being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It's you or me amplified. If you ever told a lie and enjoyed it. If you ever wished you could be a child forever. They were not perfect, but they were my friends and by the '70s most of them were out living lives. Some I've seen, some never again, but there isn't a day my heart doesn't find them." Susanna; Girl, Interrupted (1999)

This line struck me as I watched Susanna sit in the back of the same cab she had ridden in before. I realized how true and honest it was. "It's you or me amplified." We all know we have told lies for enjoyment, how could you not? When someone asks you if you like the clothes they have on, and you honestly hate them, do you say it to their face? Some people do, but I know I will almost always answer with a simple white lie. So couldn't it be said that if you amplified that part of me, the part that doesn't want to state the truth, that I would be no different than Georgina? It is really quite simple. Everyone has "crazy" tendencies, they are just lesser known than the characters in the movie or the people in hospitals.

It is difficult for some to admit to these tendencies. Some people are so caught up in their own worlds that they don't want to admit they could have a little insanity inside them. This makes Susanna even more unique. Watching the movie, we all know she is (almost) perfectly normal. We see her daydream and lose herself, but who doesn't at some point? Especially when being lectured at by people who think they know her better than she knows herself. She realizes and admits to having, though, this tendency and this touch of insanity everyone has. She is told this makes her different in a strange, corky sort of way. And she accepts it. She signs herself into the hospital only because everyone else tells her it's wrong.

I will admit that this experience was good for her in a sense, allowing her to learn about herself through others, and it was possibly necessary for her to make he life choices she did. She admits that seeing death made it just that much less appealing. So maybe she needed to meet Daisy, maybe she needed to see her hanging there after being driven further into insanity by Lisa, maybe this saved her from doing something terrible to herself later on. We will never know. It still seems awfully harsh, someone so young seeing so much evil.

Overall, I enjoyed Girl, Interrupted. I thought it was a wonderful movie and I enjoyed searching for little things like color and pattern like we did while watching Jaws just a few days back. Some scenes bothered me, like whenever Susanna went off on any of my other favorite characters like Polly and Valerie, but I got over them soon enough. I look forward to watching the movie again sometime soon to see if I can find anything I missed the first time!

I'll let you all know if I do! =D


IMDB; Girl, Interrupted (1999)

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

A Room of One's Own

Reading this book has been a rather difficult, and at times unbearable, task. I have fought with myself to keep reading. Every few minutes I find myself tracing the lines with my eyes while retaining none of what they saw. I have forced myself to turn off the computer only to turn it back on moments later. Out of pure frustration, I decided to take a break. My first thought, of course, was to go to youtube. I wanted to watch my usual favorites, but searched Virginia Woolf instead, just to make myself feel ever so slightly more productive. The first result was a BBC interview with her. I clicked and began to listen. I suddenly realized something. This book had been written based on the speeches she had given. Listening to her speak had a much greater impact on me, like the words made more sense. So with this new found respect for Woolf, I went back to reading.





"... to have a room of her own, let alone a quiet room or a sound-proof room, was out of the question, unless her parents were exceptionally rich..." (page 52)
Woolf begins to paint us a picture in this paragraph better describing how difficult it was for women writers in this time. She goes on a rant about how she is left without a place to go. At this time, women have been ever so slightly more accepted into the writing world but without money or a place to go, they cannot produce the ingenious work they are capable of. Of course, they are still criticized, as she states, "The world did not say to her as it said to them, Write if you choose; it makes no difference to me. The world said with a guffaw, Write? What's the good of your writing?" She even adds "the best woman was intellectually the inferior of the worst man." She seems to use these words in a mocking way, showing obvious disgust towards anyone who thinks such things. But how is a woman supposed to prove herself a worthy writer if she must deal with only a third of what a man is given?! She needs her own place and space to grow as a writer and live the fulfilling life she so dreams of.


Just before the previous mentioned rant, she went on a two page tyrade about how a female Shakespeare born in the same time period as the actual Shakespeare would have been criticized and held back to the point that all she had left was death (which now having a better understanding of Woolf's life has left me wondering if that was similar to what happened to her...) I found this to be a rather interesting depiction of Victorian England, showing the side that remains unspoken. I am sure at least one woman was born with such genius only to be pushed aside. This had then reminded me of Shakespeare in Love (1998) which is a fabulous movie that is completely based around this exact thought. A young woman wanted to prove her genius as an actress so she disguises herself as a man to participate in one of Shakespeare's plays. I laughed at the comparison and had a sudden to urge to watch that movie again!

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Writerly Identity

When it comes to writing, it is difficult to say what my strengths or weaknesses are.

I have a fairly good vocabulary, but sometimes using elaborate sentences can sound like a ploy... A simple and failing attempt to get by with only a limited knowledge of a subject. I'm not saying I'd EVER use it for that, but I guess I can see how you may think it is all just baloney.

Expressing my honest opinions is usually not very difficult for me to do. I greatly enjoy writing analyses of books or historical events or politics... Pretty much anything really... But my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE kind of writing is, strangely enough, research papers.... While most kids enjoyed their lovely summer afternoons in middle school, I sat at home writing a 3+ page research paper on humming birds. Why? I have no clue. But I still remember some of the crazy facts I learned. I know, I must be insane or something, I am not denying it.

There are many ways I can improve my writing. I need to get better at reading my writing with a critical eye so that I don't always hand them in at least 200 words over the limit. I also need to get better at correcting errors. I am usually so excited to be done when I finally finish writing that I print and call it complete. The whole "editing" thing never really crosses my mind until I find someone to read it for me... I am hoping to work on both of these this semester in my writing class...

For me, writing is like a box of chocolates. Just kidding. Really though, for me writing is like a mini battle against myself. I have to force myself to stop contemplating what to write and just start! I tend to spend WAY too much time analyzing the question and looking at it from a million perspectives to try and find what I like best. Then I sit retyping the first sentence over and over again. Once that's down though, I am literally ready to go and I keep typing until my fingers are numb... Things come easily for a while. When I finish typing and need to read it over, the battle starts right back up. I hate reading my papers over like I said earlier because it is so gosh darn frustrating. I mean really, I just finished writing, why the heck do I need to read it? That's usually when I pass it on for peer(or parental)-editing... The next day I will force myself to try and sit down and read it again, usually finding various silly spelling or grammar mistakes... Handing it in is like the final signing of the peace treaty with myself. Sounds fun, doesn't it?