Each one of these photos can tell an interesting story. I especially like the first three because they are from the same event but each one could represent something different. A feeling or emotion that predominates when it is viewed.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Pictures that evoke epiphanies in me
In one of Kevin's posts he showed a picture and described how it moved him and created an epiphany. I have had many similar feelings, seeing something truly magnificent captured forever in the moment is truly amazing. I, once upon a time, was going to be a photog major. I have always been fascinated with photography and I wanted to be a professional photographer and I still do. For me a picture is truly worth thousands of words. I have been moved to poetry by a simple look out the window at the landscape surrounding me (I'll post my unfinished poem later). Much like Wordsworth when he was looking down on tinturn abbey. Landscapes are all well and good, and can be unsurpassed in their beauty but I am in Love with humanity and it is the human form that I love to see photographed. Far more often a portrait is what truly stirs my emotional ocean. I have found hundreds of them that truly moved me, the only problem is that they have been lost because my computer fried itself but I was able to scour the internet for a few that I remember especially well. As I rediscover a lot of these pictures I have realized that I do have a majority of portraits but Nature is the most prolific after it.
Each one of these photos can tell an interesting story. I especially like the first three because they are from the same event but each one could represent something different. A feeling or emotion that predominates when it is viewed.
Each one of these photos can tell an interesting story. I especially like the first three because they are from the same event but each one could represent something different. A feeling or emotion that predominates when it is viewed.
Distractions
Life is full of distractions. I am a procrasitnator so naturally I am a slave to distractions. Though mine are generally for my own betterment. I usually read instead of doing most of the mandatory school work I am assigned, as evidenced with my blog itself. I love to read, and I do not only read for class I have to have a book that I am reading because I chose it. I am far more likely to read the entire thing and I usually read it more often. Which is a hard distraction to get rid of. I have gotten better at it mostly because I am in desperate need of something new to read. So I swallow the books I have been assigned in single sittings; something I have not done the entire five years I have been at this school. Which is really a shame except that the english department tends to repeat a lot of books from class to class. I have had to read Hamlet in at least one english class for the last six semesters, kind of ridiculous. I know its good, obviously, but seriously the department needs to have some kind of annual meeting so the student isn't forced to rehash the same material over and over again.
Hmph distractions once again. I have come to the decision that distractions should be viewed and sometimes followed but they are only the things that deviate us from what we want to be doing in our lives. So if you would rather be on Facebook instead of writing your paper then the paper is the distraction. Being forced to an action is usually what causes us to seek something else to do. It is human nature, especially in America, to be defiant and wish to follow our own path. Whatever gets in the way or our path or that makes us deviate from it is a distraction. However, a distraction may become our new path, that is how life is.
Hmph distractions once again. I have come to the decision that distractions should be viewed and sometimes followed but they are only the things that deviate us from what we want to be doing in our lives. So if you would rather be on Facebook instead of writing your paper then the paper is the distraction. Being forced to an action is usually what causes us to seek something else to do. It is human nature, especially in America, to be defiant and wish to follow our own path. Whatever gets in the way or our path or that makes us deviate from it is a distraction. However, a distraction may become our new path, that is how life is.
Gabriel's Greatest Sentiment
The connections I find between myself and Gabriel continue unabated. There is a line in "The Dead" that I underlined over and over again with many exclamation marks. The line is probably something that everyone else simply read over. Even I did the initial time I read it but after going over it with a fine tooth come I have found a diamond of purest "H" quality. He says that he enjoys the feel of the covers and turning the pages of newly printed books. A feeling of pure ecstasy right before one begins a new book. I think that this is a profound statement in the story. I believe that it is not too vast a generalization to say that English majors are bibliophiles. I personally not only love new books, but (as I said before my nose knows) I love old ones too. The smell of old books is unmistakable and to me makes it so much easier to re-read books several times. I also like the feel of having a book in my hands, whether young or old and feeling the change in weight as I start and finish the book. Which is why I think that I will never get into Kindles or other forms of reading books electronically. I love the books themselves. Gabriel "Nearly every day when his teaching in the college was ended he used to wander down the quays to second-hand book-sellers." in this manner he absolves a lot of his issues in my mind and helps me to reconcile myself with my love of books. Not just reading but the sensual feelings that can be attributed to them.
Apology for Ranting
Whoa, I really went on a tirade in my last blog. I guess that happens when you have some wine while you write. Do not fear "though this be madness, yet there is method in't" I have a great deal that I wanted to say and really could find no other medium to get it out. I do not think it was bad thing. I have gone off worse than that in the past, not usually in a public forum but sometimes people need to know how crazy you are "Madness in great ones must not unwatched go." Though I can only hope to be as great as Hamlet. Madness can definitely be something that helps us truly understand our place in the world. It can also make us incredibly clever, most "mad" people in literature tend to be extremely articulate and witty. I wouldn't mind expanding my vocabulary and picking up a little bit of madness as well.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Cynicism Strikes Again
Cynics by rule are self-absorbed, prideful assholes. They are usually the most sarcastic and arrogant pricks in the room. They get on every ones nerves and do not give two shits that they annoy everyone. We, and I definitely am one, only wish everyone to loathe the world as much as we do. To see it in all its nastiness is our only goal. That is the pessimistic view that comes with ascribing to a realist attitude. However, I have not been completely turned to the dark side. There is still a ray of hope in my personal persuasion. I still feel a great deal of hope for the world, though I can't help but think it is futile idealism at the same time. What a never-ending shit storm. I will always think that all English majors, especially writers, look at the world through green eyes (jaded? green? funny?) it allows a writer to see the truth of the world and translate it into words for all to read. The greatest writers can assume the characteristics of any of their characters; to do this they must truly understand human emotions and motivations. As understanding and knowledge begin to grow apathy and anger begin to grow as well.
Idealism is the beginning of any writer's journey, he or she wants to change lives like their favorite authors have changed theirs and in that journey, just like life, we lose our innocence and we realize that our favorite author had more shit wrong with them then we could ever hope to understand. The longer we see this, and continuously, the more we lose touch with the whimsical nature of writing and stories in general. We find difficulty in truly enjoying a story for what it is in its lowest form, a good story. Now we find ourselves absorbed in potentially mundane pieces of literature searching its mediocrity hoping to find an infinitesimal nugget of gold that makes the whole 230 pg. ordeal worthwhile. I did not want to become a literature snob but once again I am glad my ignorance has been illuminated by the pure light of knowledge. I am still capable of reading something for pure entertainment but I will always prefer to not only be entertained by the story but by the depth of what I am reading. Which is why I refuse to read Twilight. My refusal to read something may make me a boring person but so be it.
The true greatness of being a cynic is how one constantly constructs his world with contradictions. Feeling contempt is viewed contemptuously by the same person, having a prejudice is ascribed to people that one has never met. Judgement is the cigarette of the cynist. It is addicting and hard to quit cold turkey. It is a habit that is so easily picked up that it defies logic. In my defense, I try to be open minded and once my judgement has been proven wrong I accept it and move on, as I'm sure most cynics would agree they do as well.
The reason I have been going on and on about this is because I am assaulted with epiphanies that for better or worse make me more cynical than I was before. The word itself is hard to use because it does not truly encompass what a person is capable of feeling. I see these epiphanies in a didactic format. Functioning as light and dark simultaneously. As much as it is a cliche to say; one cannot function without the other. I come to awareness through the acquisition of knowledge and this knowledge feeds the contempt I feel for those who do not wish to know what I know. I think this to be my youthful exuberance and arrogance that in due time, wisdom will temper my feelings and teach me restraint, but as of now it frustrates me to all hell that everyone doesn't know as much as I know. I torment myself constantly with thoughts of how far behind our potential the human race has fallen to. I only know how much I don't know and even when I say that I truly can't comprehend how much I don't know. However, I will always think that I could know more and could have been taught it at an early age. I see no reason why we should not grow up bi-lingual. It is stupid to only know one language, especially in our world of instant communication. The potential for the human brain is limitless and I know that like muscles it must be pushed past its limit on a regular basis and unlike our muscles it should be done early. I am always humbled by how much Dr. S can remember off the top of his head, the verses and passages that he has memorized is quite incredible and at the same time it depresses me for what we have lost and are losing. More and more our world is dominated with passive forms of communication and it engenders a society dependent on instant gratification.
These fears are expressed in "The Dead". Nostalgia strikes us at the best of times and the worst of times. Of all the things I would call myself, nostalgic is the one I would like to be the least. I do not like always living in the past and insisting that "back in my day" it was such a better world. I am only 23 and those thoughts seem unworthy and dishonorable. I am not old enough to be reminiscing about the past in such a way, but though I dislike it I am always thinking that way. Gas prices were lower, beating your children was the norm, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was on (best cartoons ever in our day, you know this). I fear for the rest of my life, which hopefully will be the majority of it, I hope it is not a continuous look back. I want to live in the now and in the future. Lost in all three sisters of time. I only hope to continue tempering my ego and hopefully will not succumb to my own narcissism.
Idealism is the beginning of any writer's journey, he or she wants to change lives like their favorite authors have changed theirs and in that journey, just like life, we lose our innocence and we realize that our favorite author had more shit wrong with them then we could ever hope to understand. The longer we see this, and continuously, the more we lose touch with the whimsical nature of writing and stories in general. We find difficulty in truly enjoying a story for what it is in its lowest form, a good story. Now we find ourselves absorbed in potentially mundane pieces of literature searching its mediocrity hoping to find an infinitesimal nugget of gold that makes the whole 230 pg. ordeal worthwhile. I did not want to become a literature snob but once again I am glad my ignorance has been illuminated by the pure light of knowledge. I am still capable of reading something for pure entertainment but I will always prefer to not only be entertained by the story but by the depth of what I am reading. Which is why I refuse to read Twilight. My refusal to read something may make me a boring person but so be it.
The true greatness of being a cynic is how one constantly constructs his world with contradictions. Feeling contempt is viewed contemptuously by the same person, having a prejudice is ascribed to people that one has never met. Judgement is the cigarette of the cynist. It is addicting and hard to quit cold turkey. It is a habit that is so easily picked up that it defies logic. In my defense, I try to be open minded and once my judgement has been proven wrong I accept it and move on, as I'm sure most cynics would agree they do as well.
The reason I have been going on and on about this is because I am assaulted with epiphanies that for better or worse make me more cynical than I was before. The word itself is hard to use because it does not truly encompass what a person is capable of feeling. I see these epiphanies in a didactic format. Functioning as light and dark simultaneously. As much as it is a cliche to say; one cannot function without the other. I come to awareness through the acquisition of knowledge and this knowledge feeds the contempt I feel for those who do not wish to know what I know. I think this to be my youthful exuberance and arrogance that in due time, wisdom will temper my feelings and teach me restraint, but as of now it frustrates me to all hell that everyone doesn't know as much as I know. I torment myself constantly with thoughts of how far behind our potential the human race has fallen to. I only know how much I don't know and even when I say that I truly can't comprehend how much I don't know. However, I will always think that I could know more and could have been taught it at an early age. I see no reason why we should not grow up bi-lingual. It is stupid to only know one language, especially in our world of instant communication. The potential for the human brain is limitless and I know that like muscles it must be pushed past its limit on a regular basis and unlike our muscles it should be done early. I am always humbled by how much Dr. S can remember off the top of his head, the verses and passages that he has memorized is quite incredible and at the same time it depresses me for what we have lost and are losing. More and more our world is dominated with passive forms of communication and it engenders a society dependent on instant gratification.
These fears are expressed in "The Dead". Nostalgia strikes us at the best of times and the worst of times. Of all the things I would call myself, nostalgic is the one I would like to be the least. I do not like always living in the past and insisting that "back in my day" it was such a better world. I am only 23 and those thoughts seem unworthy and dishonorable. I am not old enough to be reminiscing about the past in such a way, but though I dislike it I am always thinking that way. Gas prices were lower, beating your children was the norm, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was on (best cartoons ever in our day, you know this). I fear for the rest of my life, which hopefully will be the majority of it, I hope it is not a continuous look back. I want to live in the now and in the future. Lost in all three sisters of time. I only hope to continue tempering my ego and hopefully will not succumb to my own narcissism.
Self-Awareness, the Mistaken Form of Arrogance
I think of myself as a self-aware person. As a matter of fact, My friends and I pride ourselves on being honest with each other and our selves. In a very un-man-like manner we talk to each other about our feelings and concerns. So in this tradition I have always tried to keep my ego/confidence in check. I am naturally a very confident person, it is however, based on a percentage of things 45% athleticism, 50% intelligence and 5% on how I look and to be honest if I wasn't told this by others my looks would not be a factor. I can talk my way into a lot of situations and definitely my out of them. Any ol' ways I know that I can come off as arrogant to other people, and in the long run I do not see a problem with being arrogant, I am happy I have the confidence to try something that I have never tried before and to hop into a situation that has potential to be humiliating. The funny part about that is there is a paradox. A person with a lot of confidence is more likely to be the class clown, but the behavior he shows, self-mockery and displays of tom-foolery are giving him the attention he wants. I psychoanalyze like this all the time about myself. Its not exactly normal for all I know.
I can't seem to focus. I was trying to discuss self-awareness. My whole tirade is essentially what Gabriel would be going through. At least according to me. His continuous analyzing of the situations he is put in is representative a very self-aware person. In the story he is a seemingly awkward conversationalist, but he shows otherwise with his speech to those at the dinner table. The fact that he seems to have so many issues socializing on a personal level is similar to myself. We over think everything. I cannot help cataloguing and critiquing every nuance of a conversation or interaction. Similar to that of Gabriel. The entire story I was astounded at how much I could relate to his plight, and I think he said it best. We are the spawn of not only over education but overspecialization. We know more about less in today's world. In the days of Joyce people read extensively and took great pride in it nowadays it isn't "cool" to read a lot or it is but no one else has the time to do it. In this sense many English majors feel like they are an outcast in a land of idiots. I know I feel that way sometimes. It sucks when I bust out a truly clever joke based on something I have read, not seen in a movie, and nobody gets it. I'm sure I'm not alone in those sentiments. The difficulty for me is also that I feel out of place around much of my family, because they are not college educated. Much like Gabriel, I feel some discomfort around my relatives, realizing things like the mediocrity of our cousins piano skills.
Is this morose behavior our downfall? I do not think so it is just the curse that the acquisition of knowledge can leave us with. It is conceited in the extreme to think that one can easily read people and so often one is proved wrong in their assumptions which is why even though we may not fit in and be elevated above others, that aspect is to be treasured not scorned. To clarify I mean treasure our education not lord it over those who are not.
I can't seem to focus. I was trying to discuss self-awareness. My whole tirade is essentially what Gabriel would be going through. At least according to me. His continuous analyzing of the situations he is put in is representative a very self-aware person. In the story he is a seemingly awkward conversationalist, but he shows otherwise with his speech to those at the dinner table. The fact that he seems to have so many issues socializing on a personal level is similar to myself. We over think everything. I cannot help cataloguing and critiquing every nuance of a conversation or interaction. Similar to that of Gabriel. The entire story I was astounded at how much I could relate to his plight, and I think he said it best. We are the spawn of not only over education but overspecialization. We know more about less in today's world. In the days of Joyce people read extensively and took great pride in it nowadays it isn't "cool" to read a lot or it is but no one else has the time to do it. In this sense many English majors feel like they are an outcast in a land of idiots. I know I feel that way sometimes. It sucks when I bust out a truly clever joke based on something I have read, not seen in a movie, and nobody gets it. I'm sure I'm not alone in those sentiments. The difficulty for me is also that I feel out of place around much of my family, because they are not college educated. Much like Gabriel, I feel some discomfort around my relatives, realizing things like the mediocrity of our cousins piano skills.
Is this morose behavior our downfall? I do not think so it is just the curse that the acquisition of knowledge can leave us with. It is conceited in the extreme to think that one can easily read people and so often one is proved wrong in their assumptions which is why even though we may not fit in and be elevated above others, that aspect is to be treasured not scorned. To clarify I mean treasure our education not lord it over those who are not.
My initial reaction to "The Dead"
My initial reaction to the dead was one of commiseration for the plight of dear Gabriel. His entire experience is one that I feel I have lived countless times. Thinking that one is over-educated in a group of people, making jokes that no one understands, failing miserably with a girl because she is probably way below my reading level. All of these sentiments make sense to me, also in my cynical, love-hater way I know the feeling of unrequited lust, as I'm sure any guy would second. In a very sexist way I couldn't help but think after reading the story that women are so damn complicated, and that Gabriel should not feel so forlorn over this man because only a woman would carry that memory around for so long. At this point I'd like to remind everyone that this is an initial reaction and did not consist of deep thoughts, obviously.
The great thing about my initial reaction is that I know it to be based on the basest part of my character. This is where my metaphor about knowledge being the champion against ignorance first came to being. I scorned myself for being such a capricious asshole and to read the story once again and really enjoy the prose and the deeper meanings behind the interactions of the characters. Highly enjoyable and much more satisfying.
The great thing about my initial reaction is that I know it to be based on the basest part of my character. This is where my metaphor about knowledge being the champion against ignorance first came to being. I scorned myself for being such a capricious asshole and to read the story once again and really enjoy the prose and the deeper meanings behind the interactions of the characters. Highly enjoyable and much more satisfying.
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