There has come a need for me to know myself better. Last month, as I was coming home from a field trip in SLC, a few thoughts crossed my mind about how to make my life happier. So, with a traditional list in hand, I decided to construct lists of threes.
Things I love:
Family Stories
My happiest moments come when my siblings and I are all together. Last month my brother married, and so there is a new sister in my family. When all of us are gathered, my sister, my two brothers, and now my new sister-in-law, we laugh and smile more than I ever have when we are apart. There is a liberating spirit about us, as we joke, and tease, sing and quote to our heart's content.
Knowing
There is a peculiar thrill in knowing an answer to something. Not necessarily finding the answer, just coming to a moment in time when that knowledge is useful. It's not the research that makes me happy, it's the actual knowledge of something.
Creating
What a wonderful thing it is to know it was my hands that brought something into being! This is perhaps the strongest attraction that I have to art and writing. Developing the capability of pulling something from the imagination and pushing it into reality is a wonderful experience.
Things I detest:
Failure
This goes along with knowing and creating. I suppose I'm afraid to put my full effort into something because the more I put into it the harder it is to handle the potential failure.
Self-Centered Chauvinist Narcissistic Bigots
I think that one's self explanatory. But, let's face it, anybody who will dismiss anybody else based on superficial reasons is really shooting themselves in the arsenic. Keep an open mind, people. Nobody else is perfect either.
Cinnamon Candies
Yeah. It's more that I'm allergic to them, rather than actually hating them.
Secret Dreams:
Voice Actor
I still want to be a voice actor. When I was little, however, I heard a recording of just me talking and I developed a paralyzing fear of tape recorders. I'm starting to get over that experience, but it still affects my behavior.
Music Artist
Very similar to above, actually. I was in choir until eighth grade when, unable to overcome my fear of myself, I did not try out for the advanced show choir (the audition required a solo). However, I still sing around the apartment, and I enjoy plunking on random instruments. Just don't expect me to perform by myself.
Zoologist
I loved animals when I was growing up. Along with this I wanted to be a veterinarian, but since I don't like to think about pain, I figured I would do better by sticking to studying them. For about a week in college I even entertained the idea of becoming an entomologist.
In Ten Years:
I want to be incredible. Not famous; just a master of something, or everything. Becoming famous has always frightened me, but I also knew that I wanted to be reliable for being good. I suppose my goal for ten years from now is to get over my fear of myself, and be unafraid to express what I know.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Goodbyes...?
It's a tough thing, in the heat of the moment, to try to think of something clever enough to always be remembered by.
Yesterday was my last day at my summer job. Thursday was my last day of summer classes. I will very soon be loading up and moving back to the town where I attend Uni. This is the final time I will make this journey; this is the year I graduate, come spring.
I've done so many things wrong in just the last two days, it's frustrating. I'm trying to brush it off and get on with looking forward, but there are a good dozen little things that have gotten under my skin and irritated me.
There is so much to do!
I've never been happier and, conversely, I've never been more frustrated. The high valence of emotions running through this year seem to be a theme, an indication of the polarization of life. Yet, the more polarized everything becomes, the more obvious it is that opposites are inseparably related. It's all very good in theory; the dark and light, the orange and blue-- there's a reason why they're called complementary colors-- the wrong and right, but there is a strange feeling when it is actually experienced. I would love to shudder off this dark feeling and become carelessly happy, but I know that would only lead to more mistakes, and a loss of understanding.
The duality of experience is an inexplicable emotion. It really brings into perspective the saying, 'it's all in your point of view.'
Yesterday was my last day at my summer job. Thursday was my last day of summer classes. I will very soon be loading up and moving back to the town where I attend Uni. This is the final time I will make this journey; this is the year I graduate, come spring.
I've done so many things wrong in just the last two days, it's frustrating. I'm trying to brush it off and get on with looking forward, but there are a good dozen little things that have gotten under my skin and irritated me.
There is so much to do!
I've never been happier and, conversely, I've never been more frustrated. The high valence of emotions running through this year seem to be a theme, an indication of the polarization of life. Yet, the more polarized everything becomes, the more obvious it is that opposites are inseparably related. It's all very good in theory; the dark and light, the orange and blue-- there's a reason why they're called complementary colors-- the wrong and right, but there is a strange feeling when it is actually experienced. I would love to shudder off this dark feeling and become carelessly happy, but I know that would only lead to more mistakes, and a loss of understanding.
The duality of experience is an inexplicable emotion. It really brings into perspective the saying, 'it's all in your point of view.'
Giraffe and Moon Sketch, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Living for Happiness
A rather simple concept, really. Smile, even when you don't feel like it.
I nearly gave up yesterday. Granted, 'nearly' is a very subjective assessment, as I wasn't anywhere close to the verge of abandoning my identity and becoming a street musician, but I was still pretty frustrated.
Today shows a radical change in attitude. I just finished a final that ensured the attainment of one of my minors, and the stress seems irrelevant in retrospect. Worrying about where I am and what I'm doing shouldn't be such a massive factor in my life. It seems that most of my concerns come from placing too high an importance on time, the short-term, the long-term, their intricacies; really, it's all a matter of needing to be in control, to regulate everything in regards to what's temporally important, not necessarily what's eternally important. I place far too much importance on what's intellectual, reducing life to equations, causes and effects, rather than allowing emotional needs to be nourished and developed. The thing is, just because I don't allow them to 'grow' doesn't negate the need to have them.
I've planted a picket fence and killed all the flowers.
Still, maybe I can resist the urge to tear up the morning glory that's beginning to grow, so I can have something in common with the neighbors who place more importance on social time than on tending their lawns. Not to say that they allow their properties to become derelict; rather, they've found a balance of sorts between their yard work and their recreation. They've found a balance between their intellectual needs and their emotional requirements.
It's always interesting to find out that, while I'm not necessarily wrong, I have been misinterpreting my own answers to life.
Untitled Sketch, 2009
I nearly gave up yesterday. Granted, 'nearly' is a very subjective assessment, as I wasn't anywhere close to the verge of abandoning my identity and becoming a street musician, but I was still pretty frustrated.
Today shows a radical change in attitude. I just finished a final that ensured the attainment of one of my minors, and the stress seems irrelevant in retrospect. Worrying about where I am and what I'm doing shouldn't be such a massive factor in my life. It seems that most of my concerns come from placing too high an importance on time, the short-term, the long-term, their intricacies; really, it's all a matter of needing to be in control, to regulate everything in regards to what's temporally important, not necessarily what's eternally important. I place far too much importance on what's intellectual, reducing life to equations, causes and effects, rather than allowing emotional needs to be nourished and developed. The thing is, just because I don't allow them to 'grow' doesn't negate the need to have them.
I've planted a picket fence and killed all the flowers.
Still, maybe I can resist the urge to tear up the morning glory that's beginning to grow, so I can have something in common with the neighbors who place more importance on social time than on tending their lawns. Not to say that they allow their properties to become derelict; rather, they've found a balance of sorts between their yard work and their recreation. They've found a balance between their intellectual needs and their emotional requirements.
It's always interesting to find out that, while I'm not necessarily wrong, I have been misinterpreting my own answers to life.
Untitled Sketch, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Deeper than Skin
Waterford stared at the toothbrush, bewildered. "And you put this implement in your mouth?" he questioned, his wide eyes scanning the face of his host. "Doesn't it bite?"
Between attending the AIGA Y Design Conference in San Diego (the last week of March), a rather quiet birthday on the first of April, and a portfolio review on the third of April I've found myself quite turned around. With only a few weeks left in school, I'm forced to reconsider where I've found myself.
First, I've been far too focused on what needs to be done. Too often I look at things as an objective, with defined paths toward accomplishment. Once something is done, it is time to move on to the next problem. The in-between has stopped mattering to me so much, and I look at things less for the journey and more for the purpose.
I've almost stopped looking at things poetically; they've become a series of events, with automatic perceptions and judgments that like to snap at a conclusion and leave it be after that.
I've even forgotten why I started a blog. It wasn't to report on concrete things, like a journal to inform what was happening; rather, it was to facilitate a return to a former, more poetic way of thinking.
I'm going to try harder to make this more of a conversation, and less of a report.
This blog will become a response to reality, a literal conversation with the actions and perceptions that fill every day.
So, here's to many glorious tomorrows, and the journeys they will take us on, and the words and thoughts they will lend to us.
Kate, 2009
Between attending the AIGA Y Design Conference in San Diego (the last week of March), a rather quiet birthday on the first of April, and a portfolio review on the third of April I've found myself quite turned around. With only a few weeks left in school, I'm forced to reconsider where I've found myself.
First, I've been far too focused on what needs to be done. Too often I look at things as an objective, with defined paths toward accomplishment. Once something is done, it is time to move on to the next problem. The in-between has stopped mattering to me so much, and I look at things less for the journey and more for the purpose.
I've almost stopped looking at things poetically; they've become a series of events, with automatic perceptions and judgments that like to snap at a conclusion and leave it be after that.
I've even forgotten why I started a blog. It wasn't to report on concrete things, like a journal to inform what was happening; rather, it was to facilitate a return to a former, more poetic way of thinking.
I'm going to try harder to make this more of a conversation, and less of a report.
This blog will become a response to reality, a literal conversation with the actions and perceptions that fill every day.
So, here's to many glorious tomorrows, and the journeys they will take us on, and the words and thoughts they will lend to us.
Kate, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Rocks in the Fast Lane
Stimmford pulled the little white mouse from his pocket, and the dear thing only hummed to himself, ignoring the expectant crowd.
This week is Spring Break for my Uni. So, life has developed a much needed change of pace. Not necessarily that there's less to do, just that there's a different environment and schedule to work with.
Things have been going extremely well. Between designing some new shirts for a well known marathon in my region, homework, and club activities, there has been hardly any room to think outside of school. With Spring Break, I've come back to my childhood home and began to move from the 'dungeon' downstairs (the smallest room in the house, used for storage) into a larger room upstairs. I've filed my taxes, continued work on the marathon shirts, and contemplated how to move forward with my other required tasks.
Today I'm leaving to go trilobite hunting with my parents. We'll be spending three nights out in the desert, and that's time with just us, sky, rocks, two four-wheelers, a trailer and a dog. No internet and probably no cell phone reception. (Hopefully I'll get my design work done too, but let's take everything just one item at a time.)
Next week, on Wednesday, I'll be going with 17 of my classmates to attend the AIGA Y Conference; it's a professional design conference being held in San Diego, CA, from Thursday until Saturday.
After that it's back to the regular schedule at school for the last few weeks before finals.
It's interesting to consider the contrasts that I'll be faced with over the next few weeks. If I believed in karma, I'd be forced to believe that I must have done something incredibly good to deserve all these wonderful opportunities.
This week is Spring Break for my Uni. So, life has developed a much needed change of pace. Not necessarily that there's less to do, just that there's a different environment and schedule to work with.
Things have been going extremely well. Between designing some new shirts for a well known marathon in my region, homework, and club activities, there has been hardly any room to think outside of school. With Spring Break, I've come back to my childhood home and began to move from the 'dungeon' downstairs (the smallest room in the house, used for storage) into a larger room upstairs. I've filed my taxes, continued work on the marathon shirts, and contemplated how to move forward with my other required tasks.
Today I'm leaving to go trilobite hunting with my parents. We'll be spending three nights out in the desert, and that's time with just us, sky, rocks, two four-wheelers, a trailer and a dog. No internet and probably no cell phone reception. (Hopefully I'll get my design work done too, but let's take everything just one item at a time.)
Next week, on Wednesday, I'll be going with 17 of my classmates to attend the AIGA Y Conference; it's a professional design conference being held in San Diego, CA, from Thursday until Saturday.
After that it's back to the regular schedule at school for the last few weeks before finals.
It's interesting to consider the contrasts that I'll be faced with over the next few weeks. If I believed in karma, I'd be forced to believe that I must have done something incredibly good to deserve all these wonderful opportunities.
Contemplation, 2008
Monday, March 2, 2009
Stress and Finances
Roadblocks are meant to inspire solutions.
This semester has been pretty tough. The news of a recession has hit many American pockets pretty hard, and it definitely disappointed some expectations of the Graphic Design Club on my campus. Being unable to rally needed funds from the school's Assembly, we have had to turn to desperate money-making in a way we were hoping to avoid.
Next week is our self-proclaimed 'Graphic Palooza' week on campus. We're hosting everything from Halo, Wii mini-game and Guitar Hero tournaments, to an improv comedy night (generously donated by our local improv group), to a raffle, to car washes, to tie-dying... and yes, some of our members are seriously discussing donating plasma at the nearest facility, which is fifty miles away.
Why all this activity? So we can send eighteen students to an AIGA design conference in San Diego. We've already paid our entry fees, and all that's left is to garner enough funds to defray the other costs.
This all comes at a rather inconvenient time for many of the students; midterms are here, and we're all working with already overloaded schedules. Add to that the stress of designing to advertise for all of these added events, along with somehow scheduling time to assist at these events, and you're met with a rather frazzled, highly sleep-deprived group of students.
They're all heroes. Faced with a challenge, they've bucked up and stepped up to the demands with a grim smile and an undeterred determination. They're tenacious, and well-deserving of the opportunity to spend some quality time in California, working on a professional opportunity.
This semester has been pretty tough. The news of a recession has hit many American pockets pretty hard, and it definitely disappointed some expectations of the Graphic Design Club on my campus. Being unable to rally needed funds from the school's Assembly, we have had to turn to desperate money-making in a way we were hoping to avoid.
Next week is our self-proclaimed 'Graphic Palooza' week on campus. We're hosting everything from Halo, Wii mini-game and Guitar Hero tournaments, to an improv comedy night (generously donated by our local improv group), to a raffle, to car washes, to tie-dying... and yes, some of our members are seriously discussing donating plasma at the nearest facility, which is fifty miles away.
Why all this activity? So we can send eighteen students to an AIGA design conference in San Diego. We've already paid our entry fees, and all that's left is to garner enough funds to defray the other costs.
This all comes at a rather inconvenient time for many of the students; midterms are here, and we're all working with already overloaded schedules. Add to that the stress of designing to advertise for all of these added events, along with somehow scheduling time to assist at these events, and you're met with a rather frazzled, highly sleep-deprived group of students.
They're all heroes. Faced with a challenge, they've bucked up and stepped up to the demands with a grim smile and an undeterred determination. They're tenacious, and well-deserving of the opportunity to spend some quality time in California, working on a professional opportunity.
When faced with courage like that, there's little doubt that we'll make it somehow.
Outlet, 2008
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Lost :: Taken
Depression is never a good enough reason for giving up.
Last week I found out that I had the highest score on my second 20th Century Art History exam. A 108 percent is satisfying. Today I got full points on a project. Another gratifying sensation, even if there are frequent disagreements with the professor. I also made it to the Dean's List last semester, much to my surprise and pleasure.
In fact, that project I got full points on was stolen from the classroom (I found out about that today as well). This past summer someone stole another project of mine; a poster that I had been planning to give to my brother for his birthday (needless to say he didn't get it, because I couldn't afford to print it again). I just have to laugh at the experience, because there is nothing else to be done. It's almost flattering to think that my work is worthy of being stolen.
Why am I saying this? Not to brag, because I have a justification to discount everything that happens. The honest answer is that I am frequently dissatisfied with my efforts, even when I've done wonderfully well. I've had so many people express their jealousy, their wishes regarding a talent that I have, but I am often blinded by my own disregard of personal positive traits. The point? Even successful people get depression. People with all the reasons in the world to be happy could very possibly be struggling with negative demons.
I battle frequently with comparisons to those with a greater talent, whether that be in drawing (quite a common case, there), writing, designing, creating, singing, accomplishing, socializing-- in short, when measured against the strengths of people around me, I find myself looking up into someone else's castle in the sky and wondering how I could get there.
I catch myself daydreaming about someone else's castle quite often. As tempting as it is to throw hands up in defeat and slump into a miserable depression, never being satisfied with where I am and how far I've come, I have to remind myself that where I am and where they are happen to be entirely different paths to different outcomes. It's not wrong to want to be where someone else is, but it's not enough to wish for it. One has to take initiative and figure out how to plot their course to find a similar situation. If it's worth having, then it's worth working for.
One thing people say that, quite honestly, gets on my nerves, is the declaration "I can hardly (or only) draw stick figures." I had a friend, a marvelous artist who I looked up to very much, who couldn't draw a successful stick figure. Comparing one's stick figures to another's drawing is extremely inappropriate, and excludes other factors about the individual. There are so many wonderful facets to each individual, and I am constantly in awe of how amazing each person is. It doesn't matter if their talents are highly visible, or seemingly imperceptible. There are talents there. For everyone.
It's not inappropriate to want a talent. It is inappropriate to dwell on that desire, to the exclusion of what one already has. The best way to get a talent is to work like you have it. It's harder for some people to gain certain skills than others, but if it's worth having... well, then nothing should stand in the way of developing it. When faced with discouragement, the best remedy is to do something that comes naturally, and can be done well. Even just something enjoyable can cure discouragement. Laugh at mistakes, because it's okay to make mistakes and be discouraged; just don't ever stop building goals.
Don Fishote, 2007
Last week I found out that I had the highest score on my second 20th Century Art History exam. A 108 percent is satisfying. Today I got full points on a project. Another gratifying sensation, even if there are frequent disagreements with the professor. I also made it to the Dean's List last semester, much to my surprise and pleasure.
In fact, that project I got full points on was stolen from the classroom (I found out about that today as well). This past summer someone stole another project of mine; a poster that I had been planning to give to my brother for his birthday (needless to say he didn't get it, because I couldn't afford to print it again). I just have to laugh at the experience, because there is nothing else to be done. It's almost flattering to think that my work is worthy of being stolen.
Why am I saying this? Not to brag, because I have a justification to discount everything that happens. The honest answer is that I am frequently dissatisfied with my efforts, even when I've done wonderfully well. I've had so many people express their jealousy, their wishes regarding a talent that I have, but I am often blinded by my own disregard of personal positive traits. The point? Even successful people get depression. People with all the reasons in the world to be happy could very possibly be struggling with negative demons.
I battle frequently with comparisons to those with a greater talent, whether that be in drawing (quite a common case, there), writing, designing, creating, singing, accomplishing, socializing-- in short, when measured against the strengths of people around me, I find myself looking up into someone else's castle in the sky and wondering how I could get there.
I catch myself daydreaming about someone else's castle quite often. As tempting as it is to throw hands up in defeat and slump into a miserable depression, never being satisfied with where I am and how far I've come, I have to remind myself that where I am and where they are happen to be entirely different paths to different outcomes. It's not wrong to want to be where someone else is, but it's not enough to wish for it. One has to take initiative and figure out how to plot their course to find a similar situation. If it's worth having, then it's worth working for.
One thing people say that, quite honestly, gets on my nerves, is the declaration "I can hardly (or only) draw stick figures." I had a friend, a marvelous artist who I looked up to very much, who couldn't draw a successful stick figure. Comparing one's stick figures to another's drawing is extremely inappropriate, and excludes other factors about the individual. There are so many wonderful facets to each individual, and I am constantly in awe of how amazing each person is. It doesn't matter if their talents are highly visible, or seemingly imperceptible. There are talents there. For everyone.
It's not inappropriate to want a talent. It is inappropriate to dwell on that desire, to the exclusion of what one already has. The best way to get a talent is to work like you have it. It's harder for some people to gain certain skills than others, but if it's worth having... well, then nothing should stand in the way of developing it. When faced with discouragement, the best remedy is to do something that comes naturally, and can be done well. Even just something enjoyable can cure discouragement. Laugh at mistakes, because it's okay to make mistakes and be discouraged; just don't ever stop building goals.
Don Fishote, 2007
Monday, February 2, 2009
Philosophy of Problems
Well, it's only a problem if you admit that it is. Perhaps, if it's ignored long enough, it will disappear, like the winter into spring, and the spring into summer, and the summer into fall. Maybe winter won't come back at all after that.
Having been a member of the rather dubious crew known as 'tech support', I can emphatically attest that yes, there are problems in this world. Some real, some self-made, some almost wholly inconceivable. I once had a customer ask me, 'so, tell me, do people often call with problems?'
What other answer is there to that question? Yes, people call with problems. There will always be problems. Crashes, bugs, glitches, mistakes, not to mention I-D-10-T errors, are all omnipresent in any industry, with any system, with any profession.
Now, having said that, I can also claim understanding and empathy for those on the side of the problem. Not that the person experiencing the problem is stupid, because I spoke with many brilliant and wonderful people, but because they just did not know the answer and were rightfully turning to someone who knew more. I've had my fair share of issues, and I've spoken with plenty of (admittedly, overseas) tech support employees from at least two different companies. They've annoyed me, and sometimes I've felt even more stuck in a problem after speaking with them. It's awful to not get a convenient answer when the world is full of conveniences.
The best thing to do is build a network of support. Whether that network is based in tech supports, or friends, or family, it's a good network of information to have. It's not often that a perfect answer is found, and it's even rarer to find an easy and convenient answer, especially when the problem has grown to large proportions. Ignoring problems only allows that problem to engorge itself on time, and it will rarely disappear if it is allowed a free meal like that.
Vanity (2007)
Having been a member of the rather dubious crew known as 'tech support', I can emphatically attest that yes, there are problems in this world. Some real, some self-made, some almost wholly inconceivable. I once had a customer ask me, 'so, tell me, do people often call with problems?'
What other answer is there to that question? Yes, people call with problems. There will always be problems. Crashes, bugs, glitches, mistakes, not to mention I-D-10-T errors, are all omnipresent in any industry, with any system, with any profession.
Now, having said that, I can also claim understanding and empathy for those on the side of the problem. Not that the person experiencing the problem is stupid, because I spoke with many brilliant and wonderful people, but because they just did not know the answer and were rightfully turning to someone who knew more. I've had my fair share of issues, and I've spoken with plenty of (admittedly, overseas) tech support employees from at least two different companies. They've annoyed me, and sometimes I've felt even more stuck in a problem after speaking with them. It's awful to not get a convenient answer when the world is full of conveniences.
The best thing to do is build a network of support. Whether that network is based in tech supports, or friends, or family, it's a good network of information to have. It's not often that a perfect answer is found, and it's even rarer to find an easy and convenient answer, especially when the problem has grown to large proportions. Ignoring problems only allows that problem to engorge itself on time, and it will rarely disappear if it is allowed a free meal like that.
Vanity (2007)
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Freckles
It wasn't a distasteful goodbye. It wasn't sweet either. It was a rather numb and blind goodbye. The sort that ends with a 'talk to you soon,' but usually means a permanent change, whether or not talking is involved in the future.
I'm a blend of English-Germanic heritage, comprising of Scottish, Welsh, British, German, Swedish, Swiss, and a variety of zests that can only be guessed at. I'm rather proud of my genetics, as they afford me my dark cow-puckey green eyes as well as the funny brown spots all over my pale skin. Sure, it has made scholarship applications difficult, and a number of people have all sorts of preconceptions about my opinions just because I'm a dominantly pink-and-yellow hue. That doesn't mean that I regret the contributors to my DNA.
The book of family memoirs is full of strange stories, ranging from a who-knows-how-many-greats great uncle who was the only one to successfully steal the crown jewels of England from the tower of London, to an immigrant who came over on the Mayflower, to converts who gave much of what they had in order to join the Latter Day Saints. These and many more, including wet-backs, settlers, performers, geniuses, and unknowns. Each one of them trying to make their way as individuals in this world, many of them trying to improve the world in whatever small way they could.
But this isn't just one individual's heritage. This is the inheritance of the human race. No matter appearance, status, successes, failures, no matter any personal factor, we all share a rich legacy of survival, adaptation, and knowledge. We are constantly building on our past, and relying on each other.
I'm a blend of English-Germanic heritage, comprising of Scottish, Welsh, British, German, Swedish, Swiss, and a variety of zests that can only be guessed at. I'm rather proud of my genetics, as they afford me my dark cow-puckey green eyes as well as the funny brown spots all over my pale skin. Sure, it has made scholarship applications difficult, and a number of people have all sorts of preconceptions about my opinions just because I'm a dominantly pink-and-yellow hue. That doesn't mean that I regret the contributors to my DNA.
The book of family memoirs is full of strange stories, ranging from a who-knows-how-many-greats great uncle who was the only one to successfully steal the crown jewels of England from the tower of London, to an immigrant who came over on the Mayflower, to converts who gave much of what they had in order to join the Latter Day Saints. These and many more, including wet-backs, settlers, performers, geniuses, and unknowns. Each one of them trying to make their way as individuals in this world, many of them trying to improve the world in whatever small way they could.
But this isn't just one individual's heritage. This is the inheritance of the human race. No matter appearance, status, successes, failures, no matter any personal factor, we all share a rich legacy of survival, adaptation, and knowledge. We are constantly building on our past, and relying on each other.
In the end, it's not the freckles or the eye and skin color or the great things that have been done that distinguish who I am in this world. It's what I do to take my place in it, and to help everyone else in their place.
Visits Into the Woods (2008)
Monday, December 8, 2008
Beginnings and Finales
Lavender could feel the thrum in the air, the marvelous crescendo, the intense humming of anticipation as the cymbals tickled the air. The frog was about to jump.
It's a marvelous experience to come to the end of a semester, and to feel the thrill of a soon-to-come break, as well as reflect upon the efforts of the last few months. This isn't a guiltless time, because inevitably there are projects that could have been done better and time that could have been spent more wisely. Often it seems as if all the time were spent in preparation, and now, drawing to the end, there are still more preparations, and very few climaxes with satisfying closing resolutions.
Life experiences often amount simply to a preparation for the next stage, the next step, the next thing coming.
This week marks a closing, a beginning, and a segue into the next thing coming. As one semester ends, and classes dissipate, it's a strange stage at which to consider all that has been accomplished, and all that has yet to be done. For my University this week marks the last week of the semester, the ever so famous 'finals week', which is the moment in the year with both the most and the least amount of time to relax. The rhythm that has been rehearsed for the past few months is startlingly disrupted, regular class times aren't attended but a summation is required.
When it's all over, a short respite begins.
It's a cycle of beginnings and finales. The beginning of a day, a week, a semester, a year, and the finale of each successive event as it comes to its close.
Watching the Door (2008)
It's a marvelous experience to come to the end of a semester, and to feel the thrill of a soon-to-come break, as well as reflect upon the efforts of the last few months. This isn't a guiltless time, because inevitably there are projects that could have been done better and time that could have been spent more wisely. Often it seems as if all the time were spent in preparation, and now, drawing to the end, there are still more preparations, and very few climaxes with satisfying closing resolutions.
Life experiences often amount simply to a preparation for the next stage, the next step, the next thing coming.
This week marks a closing, a beginning, and a segue into the next thing coming. As one semester ends, and classes dissipate, it's a strange stage at which to consider all that has been accomplished, and all that has yet to be done. For my University this week marks the last week of the semester, the ever so famous 'finals week', which is the moment in the year with both the most and the least amount of time to relax. The rhythm that has been rehearsed for the past few months is startlingly disrupted, regular class times aren't attended but a summation is required.
When it's all over, a short respite begins.
It's a cycle of beginnings and finales. The beginning of a day, a week, a semester, a year, and the finale of each successive event as it comes to its close.
Watching the Door (2008)Monday, November 24, 2008
Favorites :: Fancy
"Gracious, no." The bear rolled his grizzled head. "Chasing stars is not an appropriate activity for a creature of my age."
Jiji cupped his chin in his hands, and cocked his face toward the blackening sky. "I wondered about that."
They say that parents can't, or won't, choose a favorite child. I may not be a parent, but I can attest that I have plenty of favorites. Favorite foods, ideas, characters, stories, words, phrases, and so forth. Though people don't generally agree with me most of the time.
For instance, a long-time contender for the the title of my favorite food would have to be a dish called Hermit Salad. It's a pasta salad, made with small shell noodles, peas, imitation crab (white fish), and mayonnaise mixed with ranch powder. It's called 'hermit' because the peas often 'hide' in the shells. My mother concocted it a number of years ago as a variation to some obscure recipe; at least, that's how I think it came to be. I wouldn't know. I don't believe that I was there.
Recently, and I was there for this one, I've taken a strong fancy to a new name. Names sometimes precede the character, and it's a long trying-on process with different character types which inevitably causes alterations to the original intentions of the name. This particular name is Jiji Bippins.
Jiji has changed quite a bit since his initial conception, and has even gained a friend through the gracious charity of my roommate. His friend would be Pippin LaRue, and they sail the world in a 'wooden shoe'. Why? Well, because Jiji is looking for his dog Juro, of course.
It's a whimsical, juvenile look at the world. Through constructing Jiji and his circumstances I've been reminded to always look at the magic of things. I'm never more harshly reminded of my own mundane point of view than when I try to remove myself from it. Sometimes it takes a ridiculous fellow like Bippins to pull me away from my incessant logic, and remind me of my love for the impossible dreams in folklore and fancy.
I've always loved legends, mythology, fairy tales, nursery rhymes, and other such pieces of culture. They remind us of one way to look at how to understand a question, even if it isn't scientifically feasible.
Jiji cupped his chin in his hands, and cocked his face toward the blackening sky. "I wondered about that."
They say that parents can't, or won't, choose a favorite child. I may not be a parent, but I can attest that I have plenty of favorites. Favorite foods, ideas, characters, stories, words, phrases, and so forth. Though people don't generally agree with me most of the time.
For instance, a long-time contender for the the title of my favorite food would have to be a dish called Hermit Salad. It's a pasta salad, made with small shell noodles, peas, imitation crab (white fish), and mayonnaise mixed with ranch powder. It's called 'hermit' because the peas often 'hide' in the shells. My mother concocted it a number of years ago as a variation to some obscure recipe; at least, that's how I think it came to be. I wouldn't know. I don't believe that I was there.
Recently, and I was there for this one, I've taken a strong fancy to a new name. Names sometimes precede the character, and it's a long trying-on process with different character types which inevitably causes alterations to the original intentions of the name. This particular name is Jiji Bippins.
Jiji has changed quite a bit since his initial conception, and has even gained a friend through the gracious charity of my roommate. His friend would be Pippin LaRue, and they sail the world in a 'wooden shoe'. Why? Well, because Jiji is looking for his dog Juro, of course.
It's a whimsical, juvenile look at the world. Through constructing Jiji and his circumstances I've been reminded to always look at the magic of things. I'm never more harshly reminded of my own mundane point of view than when I try to remove myself from it. Sometimes it takes a ridiculous fellow like Bippins to pull me away from my incessant logic, and remind me of my love for the impossible dreams in folklore and fancy.
I've always loved legends, mythology, fairy tales, nursery rhymes, and other such pieces of culture. They remind us of one way to look at how to understand a question, even if it isn't scientifically feasible.
Genesis (2008)
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Introductions :: Flight
There was never a morning, at least none that can be remembered, where I woke up and decided that I wanted to fly. But I've always wanted to.
There's a way to look at the world that makes everything remarkable. Growing up, the tendency to take things for granted will grow, and eclipse this former way of seeing. It's perfectly natural. Associations and generalizations are made in the brain in order to better organize and make sense of our interpretation of the world.
Every time there is something stunningly new there is a flash of remembrance, and a response ever so fleeting that may struggle to be recognized before being taken over by automatic processes that the mind has taken years to construct and refine.
In a transition from my old, comfortable world to the relatively new sphere of University, I was startled to discover things about myself that made me evaluate the way I perceive things.
It wasn't the education that was so different from what I was accustomed to, but the environmental temperature was just enough of a change to remind me of the way I had been observing my world. I left the home and neighborhood I had grown up in and moved startlingly far away from my beloved family. Spending my first semester as a sort of fish stuck in the sky, I had to extend my thoughts out of their comfort zone and into the broader range of possibilities.
When I stopped drowning, I began to fly.
It was merely a change of perspective, and immediately my life began to fall into order. Where I followed before, I began to implement the guidance received, and to leap into my own voids.
This semester sees me as a sort of premature Senior Graphic Design student, with ambitions to graduate in a few short semesters, hopefully armed with a BFA as well as minors in English Literature and Psychology.
Though I'm not sure if I'm ready to leave my bubble of education, I know that, no matter the events to follow, I'll certainly have a great new view to learn from.
There's a way to look at the world that makes everything remarkable. Growing up, the tendency to take things for granted will grow, and eclipse this former way of seeing. It's perfectly natural. Associations and generalizations are made in the brain in order to better organize and make sense of our interpretation of the world.
Every time there is something stunningly new there is a flash of remembrance, and a response ever so fleeting that may struggle to be recognized before being taken over by automatic processes that the mind has taken years to construct and refine.
In a transition from my old, comfortable world to the relatively new sphere of University, I was startled to discover things about myself that made me evaluate the way I perceive things.
It wasn't the education that was so different from what I was accustomed to, but the environmental temperature was just enough of a change to remind me of the way I had been observing my world. I left the home and neighborhood I had grown up in and moved startlingly far away from my beloved family. Spending my first semester as a sort of fish stuck in the sky, I had to extend my thoughts out of their comfort zone and into the broader range of possibilities.
When I stopped drowning, I began to fly.
It was merely a change of perspective, and immediately my life began to fall into order. Where I followed before, I began to implement the guidance received, and to leap into my own voids.
This semester sees me as a sort of premature Senior Graphic Design student, with ambitions to graduate in a few short semesters, hopefully armed with a BFA as well as minors in English Literature and Psychology.
Though I'm not sure if I'm ready to leave my bubble of education, I know that, no matter the events to follow, I'll certainly have a great new view to learn from.
If Fish Could Fly (2006)
From my deviantART account, www.hakidasu.deviantart.com
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