doctoral candidate in rhetoric and scientific and technical communication
just a thought
blessing and curse
05 years ago
I love snow. I really do. I like how the untouched snow blankets the earth and makes it appear pristine and beautiful.
Snow is glorious.
But it’s also a pain. Only because we have too many people moving here who have NEVER driven in snow.
I’ve been driving in snow my entire adult life. I know how to do it and how to do it well. Okay, well can be subjective, I suppose.
I don’t think people realize that when they are going 10mph down a highway because they don’t know how to drive in snow that it is just as dangerous as driving as if there were no road hazards.
I don’t think they understand that.
And what is this thing about driving as close as possible to one another, in single file lines, down a road? There are 2 lanes, people! Use them! Don’t make it dangerous for the rest of us simply because you don’t know how to drive in snow!
Sheesh.
On a cheerful note, we got our first snowfall last night. And it’s beautiful.
dreaming
05 years ago
by dawn
in just a thought
In three weeks, I’ll be 40 years old. Forty. Wow. Frankly I have never thought of myself at that age. It seems old to me. But I’m not old. At least, I don’t think I am (and Willow tells me I’m not!).
In my family, I’m not even at middle age. Grandparents and great aunts have lived well past 80 years old. One great aunt died last year at the ripe old age of 101.
In those terms, I’m still a youngster.
So, am I allowed to still dream? Is that okay?
When does dreaming stop and we have to live in the here and now, paying attention only to reality?
I dream.
I dream of living in Spain, soaking in a whole new culture.
I dream of photographing beautiful Basque towns and amazing architecture and beautiful people.
I dream of traveling to Germany and Italy and Ireland…and maybe even France.
I dream of immersing myself into new communities.
I dream of being someone…someone people admire or look up to.
I dream of a life that is different than the one I currently live (which isn’t so bad, truth be told).
Is it okay to dream? My dreams don’t stay dreams for long. I tend to make them realities because I think that’s what life is about.
So is it okay to dream about something so drastically different that would take me away from all that I know?
My sister-in-law said that she’d visit me in Spain.
So I dream.
you’re it
05 years ago
I’m at odds on the banning of tag in the small suburban city of Attleboro, Massachussetts.
On one hand, I see it as another nail in the coffin of childhood.
We have these games we play as kids. Ring around the Rosey. Olly Olly Oxen Free. Hide and Seek. Tag.
These games help us understand social order and how to interact with one another on different levels than playing with dolls and racing cars in our safe homes allow us. They encourage interaction, confrontation, and diplomacy.
On the other hand, they encourage confrontation and aggression and one-ups-manship.
I wonder if the civic leaders who implement these rules are thinking about how this will affect the futures of these kids.
Will banning tag lead to kids who don’t understand how harsh and cruel the world can be? Or will it foster kids who grow up to be adults who think that there are other means of solving problems than physical violence?
Or are they mostly concerned with the issues of litigation? And if that is the case, aren’t they promoting a more litigious community? If these kids grow up thinking that yelling loud enough will get them what they want (no matter how irrational) and that if they don’t get it, they’ll sue, are we better off for it?
I really do understand the banning. But it also leaves me in a quandary.
negative capability
05 years ago
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk :
‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness, -
That thou, light winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
John Keats, Ode to a Nightingale
John Keats wrote about a theory he called negative capability.
I had not a dispute but a disquisition, with Dilke on various subjects; several things dove-tailed in my mind, and at once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously – I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason-Coleridge, for instance, would let go by a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the Penetralium of mystery, from being incapable of remaining content with half-knowledge. This pursued through volumes would perhaps take us no further than this, that with a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration. (source: http://www.mrbauld.com/negcap.html)
Keats’ theory was that great people, and great poets in particular, reach a point where they can transcend the need to resolve everything. They know that it cannot be done, that at some point a higher authority takes over.
It is at this point that the greatest artistic endeavors are undertaken – that point of in-between. The artist is not wholly cemented to the ground in reality nor so flighty as to not be accepted.
I wonder if that is still possible in this day and age. Are we able to transcend belief in what we see, to go a bit further? Do artists do this today? Or is it the scientists and the dreamers who create new and fantastical technology who are now able to transcend that grounded space?
What does it take to make a person great? What does it take to make someone a genius in their field? What kind of drive or natural abilities are held by a person who reaches that status. And is genius or greatness accepted universally? Do we all agree that Keats was a genius poet? Do we all agree that Einstein was a great man? If we do, why are these beliefs universal?
Keats continued on in his letter to say that Shelley was out. His poetry didn’t quite meet the criteria. But would we, today, consider Shelley one of the great Romantic poets of that age? I would say that he is considered great. His poetry has lived on for more than 200 years. There is something to be said for that. But does it reach the great aspirations of Keats, Shakespeare, or Coleridge? Isn’t that subjective?
Isn’t it, then, conceivable that genius is subjective? That the honor of greatness that is bestowed upon people is subjective?
When does the line between negative capability cross over into madness or blind belief in something greater than yourself? Do you hold a responsibility to your patrons to stay within that realm of negative capability? I think that should a person follow blind faith in this way, it could not only result in losing patrons of a certain ilk but it may garner patrons of an entirely different breed.
Keats was a mere 26 years old when he died. He was tackling, at the time, theories that take lifetimes to comprehend, if it can be done at all. As the anniversary of his birth approaches (October 31, 1795), I am reminded of how much time I have squandered away on things that don’t matter to me. I am reminded of how much I love to read theory and bury myself in the words of people who make me think. Keats made his short life mean something. Can I say the same of my own?
beauty
05 years ago
On Saturday, I wrote about body issues and how I view myself because of what other people have said about me or described me.
This week, I’ve found that I’m not alone – not at all. I had a few people write and say that this is a problem for many people. It doesn’t matter if you’re overweight, underweight, average weight (for you) or not. It doesn’t matter how others view you or how you view yourself. It seems that many of us have issues with how we regard ourselves in the eyes of others.
Most of you have probably already seen the Dove Campaign for Beauty. Links and videos are all over the internet these days. Evolution is the newest one and chronicles the changes that a model’s face goes through before it is put up on a billboard. From a fresh-washed face to stylists working on her with makeup and hair products to photoshopping, she is transformed into a person entirely different from who she really is.
What strikes me about the campaign, however, is how they are reaching out to young girls. The images we give them every day in magazines and videos and tv are unrealistic and it is making them look at themselves in a way that young girls shouldn’t. I can’t imagine not liking my freckles. They are such a part of who I am. From the time I was a little girl, my grandfather would tell me that they were angel kisses and I was special to have them. I try to tell Willow the same thing as the freckles increase in number across her nose.
Should we be concerned with why Dove is doing this campaign? We know they are out to make money. Does that matter, though, if they are getting an important message out to the people who need it the most?
There are moments when I feel beautiful. There are moments when I feel dowdy and unattractive. I’m not someone who pays a lot of attention to a mirror or to buying the right products or wearing designer clothes. That’s not important to me.
I do, however, recognize that I make efforts to look good for certain people. I do realize that I will wear something because I know someone likes it or that I will pull my hair up or back because it makes me look a certain way. I also realize that when someone else thinks I’m attractive, I feel moreso.
Is this right? Probably not. I should feel it from within. But getting that acknowledgment is nice. It makes me feel good.
And while I hate that we, as a society, spend so much time and effort on the physical body and forget that beauty really does shine from within, I also realize that we are visually stimulated and what someone sees will mean that they assess me in a certain way.
If I can instill in my nieces that they are beautiful because of how they treat someone or how they react to adversity or what their minds create, then will this translate into physical beauty? I don’t know. But I think that both need to be nurtured. And I think Dove is on the right track. They are telling us something we already know but sometimes forget.
inequality
05 years ago
I’ve talked about the trend that I see in the photoblogging community to focus on men’s blogs predominantly and to ignore the validity of women’s blogs (for the most part).
Recently, Photoblogs.org started a series that they call the “Hall of Fame”. According to the Hall of Fame page,
“Photoblogs.org regularly adds outstanding photoblogs to its Hall of Fame. The intent of the Hall of Fame is to recognize those who have made a significant impact on the Photoblogs.org community. This list acts as a reference for anyone who wants to see fine examples of what can be accomplished through photoblogging. The selection of Hall of Fame members is determined automatically by a special algorithm that analyzes website influence. No more than one new site is added per day.”
When I looked through the list of twenty-one current “Hall of Famers”, there were two women’s blogs listed. Two out of twenty-one.
To me, this is a failure in the system. It fails to recognize that the inherent differences between how men and women see the world and how we photograph it are appealing in different ways. It also fails to take into consideration that if a blogger is not a part of the “boy’s club” (and most of these people comment on one another’s blogs but rarely go outside of that loop), then they will not be considered a “Hall of Famer.”
But why does it bother me? Am I concerned with being a Hall of Famer? No. I don’t think most people *get* my photography. And, quite frankly, I’m okay with that. I also don’t think that I will fit in with mainstream photobloggers. I’m not a mainstream sort of person – never have been. And I’m okay with that, too.
It bothers me because there are some amazing female photobloggers out there who are being overlooked simply because they are not hits on the popularity scale – and, essentially, that’s what that list is starting to look like.
–
The other day I had walked down to the local health food store to pick up some things for lunch. As I walked back to my office, I passed the geology building where a group of young men (all in their early 20s by my estimation) were standing.
One of them made a catcall whistle.
I looked around.
I was the only female within viewable distance.
And they were looking at me.
Then came another.
And I was confused.
I’m nearly twice their age and not what I would consider whistle material. So why were they whistling?
So, that’s what went through my mind first.
Then I wondered if I should be offended. They were treating me like a piece of meat walking down the street.
Or should I be flattered? I mean, I *am* almost twice their age and they were whistling.
Was the whistling meant in jest, to be mean? Was it sincere? Is that kind of whistling ever sincere?
And why am I giving it this much thought, even 3 days after the fact?
I think it bothers me. It bothers me that this sort of behavior is still taking place and that women are still being treated with such disdain.
What’s wrong with actually approaching someone and saying, “I just wanted to tell you that I find you attractive.”? Or saying, “I think you look very nice today.”? Why whistle and create this air of separatism? It’s not healthy.
dizzying
05 years ago
by dawn
in just a thought
Last night, as I talked to a friend, I couldn’t stop the tears. We were talking about our culpability in the ongoings in Iraq. Or Afghanistan. Or the Sudan.
The “where” doesn’t really matter. It’s the what that matters.
In the last six weeks, more than six fatal schoool shootings have occurred in North America. The executions of Amish school girls is the latest event and is, for me, that point where I can’t keep quiet.
And why are we being quiet about this? Why aren’t more bloggers writing about the violence that is going on?
Six school shootings in six weeks.
The San Francisco Chronicle is boasting about Oakland’s killings (emphasis is mine):
“America is reeling over school shootings in Pennsylvania, Colorado and Wisconsin that have killed five innocent victims in a week — but Oakland trumps them all.”
Every day, there are reports of service people and civilians being killed in Iraq. The numbers of Iraqi citizens are so high that the coroners can’t keep up with them.
People trying to make a better life for themselves and their families are dying by the hundreds as they cross the perilous deserts between Mexico and the Southwest.
And speaking of the border between the U.S. and Mexico: Congress has agreed to fund a wall between the two countries. We’re constructing our own Berlin wall, becoming the separatist nation that we’ve been accused of being since the World Wars.
And speaking of migrants trying to make a better life, how is this for a front page newspaper headline: Border crossers can be threat to environment . The local newspaper actually ran an article that blames environmental hazards on border crossers.
I have to say, I’m at the point of where I feel helpless. It’s so much. So much pain. So much destruction. So much death. So much blame.
It’s as if we’ve forgotten that people are, in the end, people. People who need to be supported and protected. People who need to be respected.
Borders are borders because we’ve decided that’s how they should be. It’s a completely human construct that creates an “us versus them” mentality.
As long as we’re okay, who cares about them?
I do.
making a difference
05 years ago
by dawn
in just a thought
I found this video on Irina’s blog. You can read more about the movement on her pages.
I found the video touched me. And it brought tears to my eyes.
Then it made me think.
I’ve often wondered, while going through my day, if the things I say, the things I do, can make a difference in someone’s life. For instance, say I go through a drive-through. If I’m treated poorly by the person at the window, how does that affect my day?
The thing I try to remember is that my contact with someone may be the only contact that person has with another human all day long. I know it happens for me more often than not. The grocery store clerk or the drive-through cashier or the bank teller may be the only person I talk to in a given day. That one person. And how that person treats me says something.
So if we gave more smiles or hugs or “atta boys”, would it be so bad? Does it hurt us to do that?
It could make a difference in someone’s day.
And it might even make us smile a bit more.
disturbed
05 years ago
by dawn
in just a thought
So, what is it about the tortured soul that seems to be the impetous to great works of art?
Is it a requirement? Do you need to be tortured to produce good works?
This all came to mind because a friend and I were discussing different artists. We were talking about Frida Kahlo, in particular. But I wonder if she was truly tortured or if her spirit was just too large for this world. She had a revolutionary heart and mind. She went against convention. Yes, she suffered physically (she had had polio as a child and endured many surgeries due to an accident). She was married to Diego Rivera – a love affair that was never quite easy.
And then I think about Sylvia Plath who, too, married a fellow artist. Who, too, was tortured by the demons that entered her mind.
And as we talked, I pondered how this bodes for my own arts. I flippantly said, “I’m not a tortured soul. I probably won’t amount to much.”
But I wonder (not that I consider myself on the level of Kahlo, Plath, or any other great artist).
My life is anything but conventional. I’ve never been one to follow trends or want to bask in the afterglow of a leader.
And yeah. It’s hard. It’s hard following your own beat rather than than the one society wants you to follow.
And yeah, I do get lonely or scared or worried over this. And yeah, I do feel left out – probably much more often than I should.
But, I think, that if I’m true to myself, then I’m just not the type to follow what everyone else thinks. I’m just not that person.
So, am I tortured? Do years of abuse and darkness and searching for the things that cannot be found in travel and losing entire stretches of my years to a strange darkness that descends over what is the history of my life count as tortured?
I don’t know.
But I’ve been told that I should write a book. That I should share my story.
I think, for me, my outlet is my photography. It allows me to paint the world as I see it.
I don’t make apologies for it. It is who I am. It’s not conventional. It’s not mainstream.
But it is true to me.
And, in the end, that is what matters.
mea culpa
05 years ago
This is another photo that has a lot of views on Flickr. I have no idea why. It’s not that great of a shot but I loved the lighting and I loved that I took it in a place that is very comfortable to me – my bedroom.
Yesterday’s entry came from a place of frustration. I was venting and I know I affected some people because of that.
It’s not the desktops that bother me. Well, I mean, it bothers me that people are getting low quality photos (because I don’t post the large sizes or the increased dpi on the internet). And it would be nice to know that people are using them for that – yeah, it is flattering.
I got a few emails from people apologizing for downloading images to their computers to use as desktops. And then I felt guilty for venting about that. I know that it means they like my photography. I know that it means that this is something they enjoy looking at everyday.
So, I apologize.
I think I was more upset about my photo being used by a corporate presence and by my photos being used by people who won’t ever speak to me or who don’t even acknowledge me as the photographer. I work hard on these, spending hours getting the right feel, the right words to go with them, and to get them posted in a timely manner.
My photography matters to me. I love doing it but I also love knowing that others are enjoying it, that they see the work that goes into it. Because, frankly, I don’t have many visitors and I don’t feel like my photography is well-received. So it is nice, just once in a while, to know that it is appreciated.
My apologies to those people I upset. I didn’t mean to do that.