As the semester comes to an end I'd like to recap all that we have read or written about. A personal favorite of mine was reading "Writing Down the Bones" as a whole, closely followed by maps to anywhere.
Writing down the bones I connected to on a personal level, she pushes her readers to push themselves and to create better work by first starting with shitty work, and that's okay. One point that she stresses that I found both inspiring and hilarious is to keep ALL of your journals filled with brief ideas, scribbles, etc. I found this to be so funny because it is something I do already, I have notebooks filled with things from the beginning of my freshman year of high school, during the phase of my first real boyfriend and teen angst. Over the summer going into my freshman year of college here at EMU a close friend tried to convince me to get rid of them arguing "You haven't opened them in 3 years, what's the point of keeping them? They're only taking up space." But, I held on, I kept them stored in a box in my closet. As it turns out over Christmas I went back and opened them, a bittersweet moment but worth it.
She also stresses that it's okay to not be wonderful and that every writer starts somewhere, they may believe they are the Picasso of poetry (chances are they aren't) but might as well let them start there. Personally over the semester I have made great strides towards improving my own works. I have fought through personal problems only to come out stronger and more developed. I feel as though I have found my voice, and what I want to do with it. My poetry has come a long way from the beginning of the semester, as has my ability to write fiction. To be honest before a class my freshman year, and this one I was absolutely awful at writing fiction. Yet, through work-shopping and working with other young writers I have progressed.
From Maps to anywhere I not only found a personal connection, but I found a love of his writing style. He varies from a very reflective, in the moment style of writing to a disconnected fragile style. The range alone I found to be impressive, as I often get stuck in one style while writing. He incorporates such detail in the ordinary experiences he has, it inspired me in a sense to go out and look at things differently. How would I describe everything going on to someone who couldn't see? How do I tell my readers how I was feeling without being boring and plain? By expanding my means of doing so, and opening my heart/mind to everything around me. Often times people shut out everything that doesn't directly pertain to them, The "noise" gets drowned out by our internal noise or even other external noise that we blare in order to ignore the world and it's potential.
As a whole this semester these two novels or collections of stories have had the most influence on me as a reader, and a writer, Changes to my style based on theirs have been made, but without managing to lose my own style only to mimic theirs. Several poems, or short stories spoke to me as well but none of them carried the same impact as these two collections. In a way I am proud of myself for actually reading through them instead of skimming through them online only to find I got absolutely nothing out of doing so. It has been a good semester, and I bid you farewell (temporarily).
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Maps to Anywhere 2.0
From Maps to Anywhere this week we were asked to read several sections. My favorite out of those assigned was "The house of the future" it not only told the story of how people thought of things in this time period when it came to houses, but also of a dying boy. The way Cooper incorporates his brother succumbing to his illness with describing the house they were living in, blows me away; It is in a very straight forward but in an emotionally filled manner.
Cooper also incorporates his love of architecture/disdain for nature while describing the house of the future. The house had all of the elements a family would ever need, a self running kitchen, extra wings to the home and more! His love for preserved things and all things that would never be found in nature was polar and completely opposite of the love his brother had of nature. There were several emotional parts to the story, for example he had spent all of the time hoping a dreaming of his brother getting better only to find out that he was getting worse. From experience with family having illnesses that will only ever get worse I connected with him on a more personal level here. When his brother got to the point they all knew it was over, and they had put on a play for him I couldn't help but connect.
In the short section dog house, I found it very strange yet understandable that he wanted to kiss and touch his brother in the manner he had dreamed of. I understand that not only as a sibling or in a state of loss you begin to think about people in a different way, occasionally in a romantic or sexual way. I feel like every child that has a sibling goes through a short and natural curiosity about their siblings and what it would be like to have a relation with them. I also found it odd that this dreaming didn't arise until his brother was near death. Why not when he was healthy and thriving? What made the desire so strong in a time where he could do nothing?
The story in itself has a very personal touch to it, yet it sounds as though he is detached about the whole situation. It is if he is speaking about it from an outside perspective. The essay as a whole brings together elements from the rest of the book, tying in characters and plot lines. The placement of the essay within the book was particularly ironic, he waits until the end to bring up his brothers death. It as if he was telling about his brother from beginning to end but used his brothers death in order to end the book more or less.
Cooper also incorporates his love of architecture/disdain for nature while describing the house of the future. The house had all of the elements a family would ever need, a self running kitchen, extra wings to the home and more! His love for preserved things and all things that would never be found in nature was polar and completely opposite of the love his brother had of nature. There were several emotional parts to the story, for example he had spent all of the time hoping a dreaming of his brother getting better only to find out that he was getting worse. From experience with family having illnesses that will only ever get worse I connected with him on a more personal level here. When his brother got to the point they all knew it was over, and they had put on a play for him I couldn't help but connect.
In the short section dog house, I found it very strange yet understandable that he wanted to kiss and touch his brother in the manner he had dreamed of. I understand that not only as a sibling or in a state of loss you begin to think about people in a different way, occasionally in a romantic or sexual way. I feel like every child that has a sibling goes through a short and natural curiosity about their siblings and what it would be like to have a relation with them. I also found it odd that this dreaming didn't arise until his brother was near death. Why not when he was healthy and thriving? What made the desire so strong in a time where he could do nothing?
The story in itself has a very personal touch to it, yet it sounds as though he is detached about the whole situation. It is if he is speaking about it from an outside perspective. The essay as a whole brings together elements from the rest of the book, tying in characters and plot lines. The placement of the essay within the book was particularly ironic, he waits until the end to bring up his brothers death. It as if he was telling about his brother from beginning to end but used his brothers death in order to end the book more or less.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Maps to Anywhere 4/2/15
This week we began the book of essays known as Maps to Anywhere, in the first part of the book I found his story Atlantis to be interesting, But, not in the way most people say things are interesting just to keep the conversation moving. I found it interesting because of the detail and the "voice" of the story it reads as though someone is telling you of this experience in such great detail you feel you can relate and even connect with where the author is taking you.
He describes his first experience at the barber shop in a way that made me remember the first time I ever got a haircut, it is such a personal experience and it can make of break you for the future. He used the phrase "He flourished a comb he never dropped, a soundless scissors, a razor which revealed, gently, gently, the nape of my neck...". If you have ever watched someone getting a haircut or watched them get a bad haircut you know that paying attention and being gentle is very important. I like the wording he used to describe the man and his tools. he didn't just come out and say "he used a razor and shaved my neck, he used scissors for my hair" his wording was very direct and detailed.
Bernard's description of the aftermath of his haircut was also greatly detailed, he describes how he watched his hair blow across the floor and how different he looked. I feel as though every one of us has had that shocking experience as they turn you around and you look at the difference that has been made. As he is getting the haircut he kept his eyes closed making the reveal especially shocking. He talks about how even though his eyes are closed he can still picture the "ghosts" of the things around him. I found that to be interesting because I know when a lot of people close their eyes they also close their minds to the things around them.
He describes his first experience at the barber shop in a way that made me remember the first time I ever got a haircut, it is such a personal experience and it can make of break you for the future. He used the phrase "He flourished a comb he never dropped, a soundless scissors, a razor which revealed, gently, gently, the nape of my neck...". If you have ever watched someone getting a haircut or watched them get a bad haircut you know that paying attention and being gentle is very important. I like the wording he used to describe the man and his tools. he didn't just come out and say "he used a razor and shaved my neck, he used scissors for my hair" his wording was very direct and detailed.
Bernard's description of the aftermath of his haircut was also greatly detailed, he describes how he watched his hair blow across the floor and how different he looked. I feel as though every one of us has had that shocking experience as they turn you around and you look at the difference that has been made. As he is getting the haircut he kept his eyes closed making the reveal especially shocking. He talks about how even though his eyes are closed he can still picture the "ghosts" of the things around him. I found that to be interesting because I know when a lot of people close their eyes they also close their minds to the things around them.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Suspended 3/26/15
From the essay packet this week I chose Suspended, the beginning of the story is what caught my eye initially. The essay itself is very short but it gets its point across, there are special moments we each live through and some of us don't even notice.
These tiny blips in time where the world changes around us either for the good or the bad, it could be a catastrophic event, most of those we notice. Or, it could be a wonderful thing like the experimentation in music, the birth of an artist that would shape the world of music or even the birth of a child who would grow up to be an incredible doctor. Do you think the world stopped and stared as Elvis or Einstein were born? Probably not, they were just ordinary people until they caused one of these suspensions in time. On the other hand you can bet that a good portion of the world at least the western side stopped frozen to the t.v as the crashes on 9/11 occurred. These small moments in time and anything in the world can happen, will it change history? Maybe, or maybe the world will move on unknowing and blind.
For example in the essay the author writes about witnessing the birth of jazz music but not really even knowing what was happening until later. She talks about remembering everything that was happening in that moment, the smells, the sounds and even what was going on around her and yet she had no idea how important that moment in time really was.
People in general although very observant many of us are quite dull when it comes to figuring out the significance of something that has happened. Many of us aren't patient enough to what has happened or what is going to happen in the near future. Either way our entire life is filled with things that we might be the only witness to or, that we were the only one to recognize the importance of that moment, in that moment.
These tiny blips in time where the world changes around us either for the good or the bad, it could be a catastrophic event, most of those we notice. Or, it could be a wonderful thing like the experimentation in music, the birth of an artist that would shape the world of music or even the birth of a child who would grow up to be an incredible doctor. Do you think the world stopped and stared as Elvis or Einstein were born? Probably not, they were just ordinary people until they caused one of these suspensions in time. On the other hand you can bet that a good portion of the world at least the western side stopped frozen to the t.v as the crashes on 9/11 occurred. These small moments in time and anything in the world can happen, will it change history? Maybe, or maybe the world will move on unknowing and blind.
For example in the essay the author writes about witnessing the birth of jazz music but not really even knowing what was happening until later. She talks about remembering everything that was happening in that moment, the smells, the sounds and even what was going on around her and yet she had no idea how important that moment in time really was.
People in general although very observant many of us are quite dull when it comes to figuring out the significance of something that has happened. Many of us aren't patient enough to what has happened or what is going to happen in the near future. Either way our entire life is filled with things that we might be the only witness to or, that we were the only one to recognize the importance of that moment, in that moment.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Essay Packet 3/19/15
What does it mean to write a creative essay?
A creative essay isn't just someone writing about a book, or someone writing about some person they were forced to study. Creative essays are a breed all there own, they have the elements of a story or even a traditional essay written in an English class. Creative essays have a certain perspective to them, while looking from the inside and getting very specific in the details that gives an air of looking from the outside. There is a sense of perspective that isn't necessarily from a person in the story, it is as though the essay is being told or read to you.
The lenses example I feel is a very well written creative essay. She starts by looking at the small things in life though the microscope but she also makes the point that it isn't about the little things at all. In fact it is about the big picture and what we do in the lens of the person watching us, are we doing what we are supposed to? Are we satisfying? Are we interesting? Are we living to our full potential? If someone were to let us look through that lens would we be happy? These can all be seen as different perspectives that the essay could be written from.
The biggest part of writing a creative essay is to be honest with the readers. After all this is an essay and they are assuming that what you are writing is the truth, or a version of it. If you decide to put in fiction make sure to let the reader know, that's the polite thing to do anyhow.
A creative essay isn't just someone writing about a book, or someone writing about some person they were forced to study. Creative essays are a breed all there own, they have the elements of a story or even a traditional essay written in an English class. Creative essays have a certain perspective to them, while looking from the inside and getting very specific in the details that gives an air of looking from the outside. There is a sense of perspective that isn't necessarily from a person in the story, it is as though the essay is being told or read to you.
The lenses example I feel is a very well written creative essay. She starts by looking at the small things in life though the microscope but she also makes the point that it isn't about the little things at all. In fact it is about the big picture and what we do in the lens of the person watching us, are we doing what we are supposed to? Are we satisfying? Are we interesting? Are we living to our full potential? If someone were to let us look through that lens would we be happy? These can all be seen as different perspectives that the essay could be written from.
The biggest part of writing a creative essay is to be honest with the readers. After all this is an essay and they are assuming that what you are writing is the truth, or a version of it. If you decide to put in fiction make sure to let the reader know, that's the polite thing to do anyhow.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Night Women 3/11/15
This story was interesting to read, there were many beautiful scenes filled with imagery. One of my favorite passages is where she describes herself as being in between a day woman and a night woman. Colors are used to describe her coloring, her eyes and her hair is described in an unusual way. She describes it as matted tresses, yet she is making her money by selling her body. It made me question why she would let her hair get to that condition. The further I read into the story I discovered that maybe the condition of her hair wasn't her choice.
She describes her home as being a one room shack of sorts, there is a hole in the ceiling over her bed, she and her son must share a room with only thin fabric separating them. It then occurred to us as a class this is typical setting for Edwidge Danticat, a Haitian writer.
The woman in the story describes her "customers" as her suitors, typically we think of suitors as men that parents in rich families set their daughters up with to keep the money in the family. There is a sense of pride that she carries knowing she will have the days to herself, she doesn't have to spend the day working in the unbearable heat, doing the same job everyday. She hates herself for doing this job, yet is thankful she doesn't have to do tedious work like the other women in the Ville Rose. There was great discussion as to what she meant by "ghost women" in my opinion she was referring to all the women that work in the shops, the factories etc. All of the jobs that are dehumanizing but the only way of life. She says that they will always undo their days work during the night so that they do not need to resort to prostitution for a living. They won't need to live with several men's scents that are not only left on her bed but their wives beds. They won't have to live with the shame that comes from the way she makes a living, as long as they always have work to do.
I spent quite a bit of time thinking about her relationship with her son, it seems very intimate as the story goes on. She does her work while he is in the room, she looks at him in a very loving way yet there seems to be almost a lingering sexual tension as he is growing older and will soon discover what she does. He reminds her of his father, a suitor that left long ago, when she talks about him she seems nostalgic in a sense, like she's willing him to come back. Her descriptions of his sleeping, or his movements are a little sexual for my taste. She describes his tossing and turning as "He squirms and groans as though he's already discovered that there is pleasure in touching himself" (Dandicat p. 84). It is entirely possible that he has, young children often discover this early. I found it to be a little strange that, self pleasure is what she chose to relate it to.
She describes her home as being a one room shack of sorts, there is a hole in the ceiling over her bed, she and her son must share a room with only thin fabric separating them. It then occurred to us as a class this is typical setting for Edwidge Danticat, a Haitian writer.
The woman in the story describes her "customers" as her suitors, typically we think of suitors as men that parents in rich families set their daughters up with to keep the money in the family. There is a sense of pride that she carries knowing she will have the days to herself, she doesn't have to spend the day working in the unbearable heat, doing the same job everyday. She hates herself for doing this job, yet is thankful she doesn't have to do tedious work like the other women in the Ville Rose. There was great discussion as to what she meant by "ghost women" in my opinion she was referring to all the women that work in the shops, the factories etc. All of the jobs that are dehumanizing but the only way of life. She says that they will always undo their days work during the night so that they do not need to resort to prostitution for a living. They won't need to live with several men's scents that are not only left on her bed but their wives beds. They won't have to live with the shame that comes from the way she makes a living, as long as they always have work to do.
I spent quite a bit of time thinking about her relationship with her son, it seems very intimate as the story goes on. She does her work while he is in the room, she looks at him in a very loving way yet there seems to be almost a lingering sexual tension as he is growing older and will soon discover what she does. He reminds her of his father, a suitor that left long ago, when she talks about him she seems nostalgic in a sense, like she's willing him to come back. Her descriptions of his sleeping, or his movements are a little sexual for my taste. She describes his tossing and turning as "He squirms and groans as though he's already discovered that there is pleasure in touching himself" (Dandicat p. 84). It is entirely possible that he has, young children often discover this early. I found it to be a little strange that, self pleasure is what she chose to relate it to.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Falling....Falling girl 3/5/15
As we read and continued to discuss short stories this week one in particular stuck with me "Falling girl" by Dino Buzzati.
The story itself is fairly strange and can be interpreted several ways, is she actually falling from a skyscraper, has she jumped to her death? Or is it all metaphorical representation of living in the fast lane? I had come to the conclusion that it was more metaphorical than realistic. In my opinion this is a way of representing all the young women who try to rush to fame and fortune, they may very well be talented enough to be on television or Broadway but nobody sees that. Yet, here they are rushing through life, practically wasting it all, for what? Recognition and popularity, things humans all crave, especially those young and foolish.
So many of us spend our entire lives working and trying to make a living, only to forget to live. Like Marta, we become obsessed with being the best and having the best. While she was falling she noticed other young women doing the same, she became jealous of how fabulously they were dressed, though she was initially comfortable in what she wore. As she is falling the sun sets, and it becomes night, now this isn't very realistic but it goes along with wasting your life. About halfway down or so she realizes that maybe she didn't want to rush and waste her life, but it was too late she had been sucked into this race we all run. The race to be the prettiest, best dressed and most well liked.
The story as a whole has several examples of beautiful imagery that pulls you in and makes you feel as though you are falling with Marta. For example "...the sun had plunged into the sea; one could see it disappear, transformed into a shimmering reddish mushroom. As a result, it no longer emitted its vivifying rays to light up the girl's dress and make her a seductive comet..." (Buzzati 31). She is described as a butterfly flying as she is falling, The description used to portray what was waiting for her "on the ground" so to speak is very detailed and vivid.
The story itself is fairly strange and can be interpreted several ways, is she actually falling from a skyscraper, has she jumped to her death? Or is it all metaphorical representation of living in the fast lane? I had come to the conclusion that it was more metaphorical than realistic. In my opinion this is a way of representing all the young women who try to rush to fame and fortune, they may very well be talented enough to be on television or Broadway but nobody sees that. Yet, here they are rushing through life, practically wasting it all, for what? Recognition and popularity, things humans all crave, especially those young and foolish.
So many of us spend our entire lives working and trying to make a living, only to forget to live. Like Marta, we become obsessed with being the best and having the best. While she was falling she noticed other young women doing the same, she became jealous of how fabulously they were dressed, though she was initially comfortable in what she wore. As she is falling the sun sets, and it becomes night, now this isn't very realistic but it goes along with wasting your life. About halfway down or so she realizes that maybe she didn't want to rush and waste her life, but it was too late she had been sucked into this race we all run. The race to be the prettiest, best dressed and most well liked.
The story as a whole has several examples of beautiful imagery that pulls you in and makes you feel as though you are falling with Marta. For example "...the sun had plunged into the sea; one could see it disappear, transformed into a shimmering reddish mushroom. As a result, it no longer emitted its vivifying rays to light up the girl's dress and make her a seductive comet..." (Buzzati 31). She is described as a butterfly flying as she is falling, The description used to portray what was waiting for her "on the ground" so to speak is very detailed and vivid.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Morning News 2/18/15
From the short shorts packet I enjoyed Morning News the most. Not to be morbid or anything, I found the story to be touching and I felt a personal connection while reading it the first time.
In 2010 I lost my grandmother to cancer, my grandmother, her husband as well as the rest of the family had to go through the process of deciding what to do in her final moments. We all knew she would go fairly quickly and that she wanted to be comfortable. Yet, we all wanted to do more for her. Her great granddaughter, my cousin, would often lay with her or color for her. There came a time however where she had no idea who she, or any of the grandchildren were. I was often called my mothers name, I look and sound similar to her so I understood. Needless to say her biggest concern was leaving us all to fend for ourselves, especially my grandfather.
Going back to the summer we lost her and reading this short story opened my eyes, we all spend so much time talking and thinking about what we are going to do when we get that kind of news. It's unavoidable it seems these day. Yet, in the end it doesn't make a damn bit of difference. You will be gone, you will be missed and there will be a gap. That is what it comes down to.
It's nice to think we can rely or jump to religion when we are full of fear and hopelessness, but can we really? Is that right, after not believing a word of it a day in your life? No.
I found it ironic but also freeing that instead of going on this gran crusade or having a wondrous last meal, the man in the story went out with his wife and splurged on a television. It won't matter after he is gone but at least she will have the memories and be able to look back and laugh about the day they bought it.
It was touching that his first reaction after the expected shock, was not to be worried about himself, but worried about his wife. We all meet those who mean the world to us and we never want to be the first to go but sometimes it's best. It was sweet that though he was embarrassed the doctor delivering the news took the time to help him up instead of staring at him or laughing.
Overall I felt the story to be eye opening and it gave me a new perspective. Stop living for the future, we can't plan everything. Live in the now and don't waste the time we are given looking to what could be better, Accept your circumstances, and do the best you can. When it is time to go you'll know you've done the best you can and there won't be a need to consider "What now?".
In 2010 I lost my grandmother to cancer, my grandmother, her husband as well as the rest of the family had to go through the process of deciding what to do in her final moments. We all knew she would go fairly quickly and that she wanted to be comfortable. Yet, we all wanted to do more for her. Her great granddaughter, my cousin, would often lay with her or color for her. There came a time however where she had no idea who she, or any of the grandchildren were. I was often called my mothers name, I look and sound similar to her so I understood. Needless to say her biggest concern was leaving us all to fend for ourselves, especially my grandfather.
Going back to the summer we lost her and reading this short story opened my eyes, we all spend so much time talking and thinking about what we are going to do when we get that kind of news. It's unavoidable it seems these day. Yet, in the end it doesn't make a damn bit of difference. You will be gone, you will be missed and there will be a gap. That is what it comes down to.
It's nice to think we can rely or jump to religion when we are full of fear and hopelessness, but can we really? Is that right, after not believing a word of it a day in your life? No.
I found it ironic but also freeing that instead of going on this gran crusade or having a wondrous last meal, the man in the story went out with his wife and splurged on a television. It won't matter after he is gone but at least she will have the memories and be able to look back and laugh about the day they bought it.
It was touching that his first reaction after the expected shock, was not to be worried about himself, but worried about his wife. We all meet those who mean the world to us and we never want to be the first to go but sometimes it's best. It was sweet that though he was embarrassed the doctor delivering the news took the time to help him up instead of staring at him or laughing.
Overall I felt the story to be eye opening and it gave me a new perspective. Stop living for the future, we can't plan everything. Live in the now and don't waste the time we are given looking to what could be better, Accept your circumstances, and do the best you can. When it is time to go you'll know you've done the best you can and there won't be a need to consider "What now?".
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Writing Down the Bones Pt. 2 2/12/15
This week we read and discussed more from writing down the bones. I mentioned in my last post about the book how much I enjoyed reading from it and how relate-able she is in her stories.
For this weeks discussion I chose "Don't use writing to get love" being a writer in my free time I completely understand where she is going with this. I often give my poems or stories to people looking for feedback and I get " It was good I really liked all of it" or " I like the way this made me feel". While being able to get positive feedback is always nice, I find myself wanting to know what my readers didn't particularly like. Or even if they felt what I was trying to get them to feel. It's nice to have at least some emotion sparked, but is it what I was looking for? It is in a persons, especially a writers nature to look for love and acceptance but also criticism, this point is something Goldburg really hammers home.
She also makes a big point to go with your gut instinct and to find that balance of humility and confidence. If you aren't in the least bit confident, how will you move forward? But, that isn't to say that if you are overly confident you'll make it to the moon or wherever you may be trying to go. you need to be able to take good and bad criticism without going off the deep end or being cocky. Taking positive criticism is one of the hardest things we must learn to do.
I also liked her chapter " Be specific" the need for precise details is very prominent in many writing pieces. Many writers will generalize allowing the reader to make the details up along the way. What they don't realize is that many readers love being shown the scenes that are in our heads. Having a picture painted with a thousand words is much more satisfying than having a picture placed in front of us. Or even having twenty words thrown about giving us the gist but not that wonderful scene.
For this weeks discussion I chose "Don't use writing to get love" being a writer in my free time I completely understand where she is going with this. I often give my poems or stories to people looking for feedback and I get " It was good I really liked all of it" or " I like the way this made me feel". While being able to get positive feedback is always nice, I find myself wanting to know what my readers didn't particularly like. Or even if they felt what I was trying to get them to feel. It's nice to have at least some emotion sparked, but is it what I was looking for? It is in a persons, especially a writers nature to look for love and acceptance but also criticism, this point is something Goldburg really hammers home.
She also makes a big point to go with your gut instinct and to find that balance of humility and confidence. If you aren't in the least bit confident, how will you move forward? But, that isn't to say that if you are overly confident you'll make it to the moon or wherever you may be trying to go. you need to be able to take good and bad criticism without going off the deep end or being cocky. Taking positive criticism is one of the hardest things we must learn to do.
I also liked her chapter " Be specific" the need for precise details is very prominent in many writing pieces. Many writers will generalize allowing the reader to make the details up along the way. What they don't realize is that many readers love being shown the scenes that are in our heads. Having a picture painted with a thousand words is much more satisfying than having a picture placed in front of us. Or even having twenty words thrown about giving us the gist but not that wonderful scene.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Tocqueville 1/28/15
In response to this week's reading of Tocqueville, I chose to analyze the poem "Air Porter".
The poem struck me for some reason, the way things are worded not necessarily literally but figuratively in some sense. For example, when he says that the van seats shake their broken bones I do not believe that he means the bones are literally broken but their will and souls are. They've become broken by the mining and shipping lifestyle, they're broken within but not in a literal sense.
Mattawa paints a picture of what Yardley Pennsylvania looks like, he talks about the moon digging itself out of the earth, does it literally? No. But to a worker who works through the night it may seem so. Or from the stand point of those at the airport looking out at Yardley watching the everyday cycle it may seem that the moon comes up, goes down and the sun will follow suit. If you were at the airport you may see the evergreens swaying as you were waiting for your plane.
He mentions a lover, or as he puts it "the woman you don't love" yet she is nice. Maybe she isn't a lover but someone you are seeing that loves you even though you are being separated. Kissing you before you leave. Kissing you with large warm hands, squishing your face. Another interpretation is that you are a child and she is a caregiver watching over you before you get on the plane, you do not love her and she is not your mother but she seems nice,
If this was the perspective of a child, noting the trees and the moon make sense. Children can be very perceptive of details like this though they may not verbalize this.
The poem struck me for some reason, the way things are worded not necessarily literally but figuratively in some sense. For example, when he says that the van seats shake their broken bones I do not believe that he means the bones are literally broken but their will and souls are. They've become broken by the mining and shipping lifestyle, they're broken within but not in a literal sense.
Mattawa paints a picture of what Yardley Pennsylvania looks like, he talks about the moon digging itself out of the earth, does it literally? No. But to a worker who works through the night it may seem so. Or from the stand point of those at the airport looking out at Yardley watching the everyday cycle it may seem that the moon comes up, goes down and the sun will follow suit. If you were at the airport you may see the evergreens swaying as you were waiting for your plane.
He mentions a lover, or as he puts it "the woman you don't love" yet she is nice. Maybe she isn't a lover but someone you are seeing that loves you even though you are being separated. Kissing you before you leave. Kissing you with large warm hands, squishing your face. Another interpretation is that you are a child and she is a caregiver watching over you before you get on the plane, you do not love her and she is not your mother but she seems nice,
If this was the perspective of a child, noting the trees and the moon make sense. Children can be very perceptive of details like this though they may not verbalize this.
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Writing down the Bones (1/22/2015)
Writing Down the Bones. I find the book to be very insightful, not only for writers but for individual development as a person. She points out some very good things, it is brought up in Artistic stability that we all do things that make us a little crazy. That is completely fine and the "crazy" things we do help makes us who we are. She also mentions that just because someone else may think it is crazy that does not by any means make it so. For example, keeping a huge stack of note books of fifteen notebooks filled with your "random" daily thoughts. I say random with quotes because the thoughts may not be random to you or to those who know you but to the outside world they are just that.
I love that in several chapters she talks about writing being a process, literally and not so literally. There is something known as the writing process but writing in itself is a process mentally, physically and even emotionally. You start with an idea or even just a blank piece of paper and you just go. sometimes writing takes a lot of focus and revision in order to become something we see as fit for reading other times not so much. From personal experience I find that my best pieces come from when I am up all night stuck in my head or when I've had a bad day so writing becomes an outlet. However, there are days when I want to take things slow and revise several times especially for papers in my science oriented classes. Natalie mentions that the more you write the better you get, I both agree and disagree with this. In my opinion it depends on the type of writing you do because just like with everything else you will reach a point where you plateau and no longer significantly improve. Improvement can also be seen in several different ways, whether it be developing a stronger voice, better word choice or even being grammatically correct more often.
One of the best ways to improve both your writing and yourself is to listen. Note that listening isn't just the physical act of hearing something but to understand and find meaning in what you hear. It could be a story you overheard in a coffee shop or the birds singing as you stroll through the park in a Thursday during your lunch. Whatever it is, slow down and pay attention. It makes life not only easier but more enjoyable in my opinion. Your writing will also come more easily to you, paying attention and getting details without really stressing your brain will help to retain information and help you to combine life with what you are writing. Whether that be a poem, an article or a thirty page thesis to graduate. Slow down, breathe and lastly LISTEN.
I love that in several chapters she talks about writing being a process, literally and not so literally. There is something known as the writing process but writing in itself is a process mentally, physically and even emotionally. You start with an idea or even just a blank piece of paper and you just go. sometimes writing takes a lot of focus and revision in order to become something we see as fit for reading other times not so much. From personal experience I find that my best pieces come from when I am up all night stuck in my head or when I've had a bad day so writing becomes an outlet. However, there are days when I want to take things slow and revise several times especially for papers in my science oriented classes. Natalie mentions that the more you write the better you get, I both agree and disagree with this. In my opinion it depends on the type of writing you do because just like with everything else you will reach a point where you plateau and no longer significantly improve. Improvement can also be seen in several different ways, whether it be developing a stronger voice, better word choice or even being grammatically correct more often.
One of the best ways to improve both your writing and yourself is to listen. Note that listening isn't just the physical act of hearing something but to understand and find meaning in what you hear. It could be a story you overheard in a coffee shop or the birds singing as you stroll through the park in a Thursday during your lunch. Whatever it is, slow down and pay attention. It makes life not only easier but more enjoyable in my opinion. Your writing will also come more easily to you, paying attention and getting details without really stressing your brain will help to retain information and help you to combine life with what you are writing. Whether that be a poem, an article or a thirty page thesis to graduate. Slow down, breathe and lastly LISTEN.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Poetry review
For my review I chose to go deeper into "TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT DISMEMBERMENT"
This particular poem can be very intimidating or even off putting if you simply read through it, more so if you examine it. It's very first line is "When it rains, the grass is filled with blood". Strange right? Most people would ask why is there blood in the grass, or why does rain matter?
I went back through and took a deeper look at the poem and soon realized that the author didn't mean literal rain, but war or bloodshed. He states that there are many kinds of rain. Rain is brought up in a few parts of his poem, he brings up the fighting European badlands in the nineteen- eighties. American "rain" that is falling as he writes this very poem, reminds him of his heritage and culture. He mentions in his second stanza that he refuses to do something so ordinary or "English" as to write about art in the world. Instead he chose to write a book of blood.
The author then goes onto introduce some worldly issues, such as those in the middle east. He mentions the Serbs tearing out the wombs of the women that they rape, and then displaying them. This in itself is disturbing, yet we do nothing. A "Punjabi monsoon" is mentioned, I feel as though he is referring to a mass killing or the screams of death within Indo- Aryan culture and strife.
The poem is abstract yet incorporates so many things that we think about everyday life. The rain being bloodshed, and a monsoon (heavy continuous rain) being a mass killing. Who knew?
This particular poem can be very intimidating or even off putting if you simply read through it, more so if you examine it. It's very first line is "When it rains, the grass is filled with blood". Strange right? Most people would ask why is there blood in the grass, or why does rain matter?
I went back through and took a deeper look at the poem and soon realized that the author didn't mean literal rain, but war or bloodshed. He states that there are many kinds of rain. Rain is brought up in a few parts of his poem, he brings up the fighting European badlands in the nineteen- eighties. American "rain" that is falling as he writes this very poem, reminds him of his heritage and culture. He mentions in his second stanza that he refuses to do something so ordinary or "English" as to write about art in the world. Instead he chose to write a book of blood.
The author then goes onto introduce some worldly issues, such as those in the middle east. He mentions the Serbs tearing out the wombs of the women that they rape, and then displaying them. This in itself is disturbing, yet we do nothing. A "Punjabi monsoon" is mentioned, I feel as though he is referring to a mass killing or the screams of death within Indo- Aryan culture and strife.
The poem is abstract yet incorporates so many things that we think about everyday life. The rain being bloodshed, and a monsoon (heavy continuous rain) being a mass killing. Who knew?
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
About me
Hey everyone,
Just a little about myself to start off. My name is Kasondra, I usually go by Kasie though. I am a sophomore here at EMU, i'm currently part of the Biochemistry program. In the near future I would like to focus on Oncology and do cancer research at the DNA level.
Some may ask "how did you know where you belong?" or "How do you know you're at the right school?" Well to be honest, it took several conversations with one of my favorite high school teachers, a tour of campus and meeting some of the chemistry department to know. Once I had sent in my application and had gone on a short tour, I knew I was home. Meeting faculty at orientation happened to be a wonderful experience that reinforced my decision and helped ground me during my first semester. I was home,
I have always had a passion for science and to go along with it is my love of literature and writing, so here I am. Creative writing helps feed the addiction and passion.
Just a little about myself to start off. My name is Kasondra, I usually go by Kasie though. I am a sophomore here at EMU, i'm currently part of the Biochemistry program. In the near future I would like to focus on Oncology and do cancer research at the DNA level.
Some may ask "how did you know where you belong?" or "How do you know you're at the right school?" Well to be honest, it took several conversations with one of my favorite high school teachers, a tour of campus and meeting some of the chemistry department to know. Once I had sent in my application and had gone on a short tour, I knew I was home. Meeting faculty at orientation happened to be a wonderful experience that reinforced my decision and helped ground me during my first semester. I was home,
I have always had a passion for science and to go along with it is my love of literature and writing, so here I am. Creative writing helps feed the addiction and passion.
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