Classes started for me today, and I believe that because I woke up and had a symmetrical breakfast, two cups of coffee with two pieces of toast and two apples, I entered this day with the true joy. Granted I could not initially find the building for my first class, and after stumbling into the correct room just after its beginning, everything was still looking up. The class was Reading and Writing Poetry, and as a side note the professor wore a sleek gray and black three piece suit complete with pocket square,and spoke with a very deliberate and almost theatrical aplomb (if you don't know me personally, these things garner a great amount of respect). You could actually tell that this man not only enjoyed the subject matter, but he loved to expand upon the idea of what a poem can say and he wanted to defend it from critics who found his love of poetic expression frivolous. But it was not what he said about poetry that I kept with me throughout the day. It starts as we were discussing the Ezra Pound poem, which I will place right here right now:
"In a Station of the Metro"
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
The words are beautiful in and of them self. In the discussion afterwards my professor said that sociological studies have shown in moments that we make eye contact with strangers, on the train or bus, in the grocery store, walking down the street, when we make that brief connection and "give them that closed lip smile", we (almost everyone) believe for a moment we connected to that person and that psychologically we are going through the same thing. We make instant eye contact and instant eye contact causes a moment of connection. I know little connections like this happen to me, though few and far between. But I have decided to let people know I will empathize, as long as they are willing to make eye contact.
Monday, January 5, 2009
confessions of a materialist
I recently applied as a transfer student to some of the UCs. One of the application essay questions asked very generally about me as a person, so I decided to write about this blog and how it shapes who I am. There are some bits that I have been meaning to post at the end, but here is the whole thing. I will highlight and organize it into bits.
The ways I view and interact with the world have changed significantly since I started to write for my blog, the big blanket. I felt that many of the people around me had grown disenchanted with their life and what it has to offer. Although I agreed with many of the pessimistic points they made, I realized that we all have the power to change our perceptions and be grateful, even mystified, by the chance we are given to live. One of the recurring posts my best friend, Patrick, and I write are lists of events, emotions or things that, while by most may be considered insignificant, are examples of the beauty, humor and poignancy that can be found in day to day life. Whether it is the rhythmic motion of the bus, the sensuality of cooking with your bare hands or the fleeting romance of making eye contact with strangers, I wanted to express to those around me that in every moment there is a chance to make art, find love and be happy. Through writing this blog, I have taken on the mindset I have hoped to bestow on its readers. I find myself constantly trying to keep my eyes, and heart, open to the world around me. Not only are films, essays and books chances to learn, but also conversations, solitary walks and chance encounters.
KNITTING
For instance, I had always thought of knitting as an incredibly passive activity that while relaxing, was rather redundant. My perception slowly changed, however, and I realized that by knitting, I am creating something beautiful and functional out of a series of knots. This was a good way to think about life's hardships, I realized, and that although times may be difficult, to keep in mind that by looking at the bigger picture, it is worth the struggle.
CASSETTES
In another instance, I was frustrated that my favorite band only sold musics on cassettes, which I found to be so archaic, inefficient and bulky. After finally buying the cassette, the chunky plastic rectangle started to grow on me. The good thing about tapes, I thought to myself, is that you are forced to listen to the album all the way through. With a tape you slowly build connections with each song and accept it as a whole entity, as opposed to gleaming out your favorites like with a MP3 player. This taught me a lesson about human relationships. No individual person is free of flaws or will complement your qualities perfectly. Friendship should not only take place when it is convenient- in fact it is most significant when it is not. Looking back on it, the healthiest relationships have the occasional weak spots and arguments as it proves each individuals dedication, patience and understanding to the other.
These are only a couple of examples of the small and large changes I have made in my thoughts, actions and interactions that have altered the way I view the world; I appreciate life's small rewards and accept life's big downfalls, while also living in the present moment. This has also helped me reconcile my spiritual beliefs. It is increasingly more and more difficult to find meaning in a world where we make friends with computer screens, run miles on a conveyor belt and prescribe well being in a pill. I have opened my eyes to the beauty that still exists in our world and only hope to help others do the same.
(the end).
On top of this, I would like to add the act of
COLLAGING
The other day I was joking with my friend Franny while I cut out pictures for a soon-to-be collage. I mentioned how collage is often seen as a lesser art form, if an art form at all. I understand why people think this, but I see something more romantic than stealing and rearranging others' paintings and photos. First of all, I like to think I am recycling artistically. Other than this, when I collage, I create whole new worlds out of what I usually assume is a stable world, how the world "is supposed to be". But I take these elements, remove them from their "natural home" and place them in a completely new environment. This gives me the courage to create, mold and alter my world and my views. Most of life and our relationships can also be seen as collages; as random assortments of colors, vocal points, national geographic clippings, all from different magazines and books but when they come together make something beautiful, bizarre, sometimes even eerie. Sometimes, maybe even most of the time, these images are even more beautiful in their new surroundings. They are no longer stiff and confined to the stiff pages of textbooks. They form a cacophony of paper that eventually learns to harmonize.
When I collage, it gives new meaning, purpose and beauty to otherwise discarded scraps of newspaper. They are given a second chance at infinity, immortality. Sometimes it makes me think that maybe I, too, in memory, in spoken word, may find some sort of immortality. That the words I speak will ring forever in the ears of my peers, like an echo in a cave caused by a rock that has long since quit tumbling but whose presence lingers on. That maybe all that I have done, said and felt may reverberate continuously through the world. These actions are the notes which cause(along with many many many others) the tuning fork (the world) to hum, and long after the key has been played, the vibrations can be felt.
The ways I view and interact with the world have changed significantly since I started to write for my blog, the big blanket. I felt that many of the people around me had grown disenchanted with their life and what it has to offer. Although I agreed with many of the pessimistic points they made, I realized that we all have the power to change our perceptions and be grateful, even mystified, by the chance we are given to live. One of the recurring posts my best friend, Patrick, and I write are lists of events, emotions or things that, while by most may be considered insignificant, are examples of the beauty, humor and poignancy that can be found in day to day life. Whether it is the rhythmic motion of the bus, the sensuality of cooking with your bare hands or the fleeting romance of making eye contact with strangers, I wanted to express to those around me that in every moment there is a chance to make art, find love and be happy. Through writing this blog, I have taken on the mindset I have hoped to bestow on its readers. I find myself constantly trying to keep my eyes, and heart, open to the world around me. Not only are films, essays and books chances to learn, but also conversations, solitary walks and chance encounters.
KNITTING
For instance, I had always thought of knitting as an incredibly passive activity that while relaxing, was rather redundant. My perception slowly changed, however, and I realized that by knitting, I am creating something beautiful and functional out of a series of knots. This was a good way to think about life's hardships, I realized, and that although times may be difficult, to keep in mind that by looking at the bigger picture, it is worth the struggle.
CASSETTES
In another instance, I was frustrated that my favorite band only sold musics on cassettes, which I found to be so archaic, inefficient and bulky. After finally buying the cassette, the chunky plastic rectangle started to grow on me. The good thing about tapes, I thought to myself, is that you are forced to listen to the album all the way through. With a tape you slowly build connections with each song and accept it as a whole entity, as opposed to gleaming out your favorites like with a MP3 player. This taught me a lesson about human relationships. No individual person is free of flaws or will complement your qualities perfectly. Friendship should not only take place when it is convenient- in fact it is most significant when it is not. Looking back on it, the healthiest relationships have the occasional weak spots and arguments as it proves each individuals dedication, patience and understanding to the other.
These are only a couple of examples of the small and large changes I have made in my thoughts, actions and interactions that have altered the way I view the world; I appreciate life's small rewards and accept life's big downfalls, while also living in the present moment. This has also helped me reconcile my spiritual beliefs. It is increasingly more and more difficult to find meaning in a world where we make friends with computer screens, run miles on a conveyor belt and prescribe well being in a pill. I have opened my eyes to the beauty that still exists in our world and only hope to help others do the same.
(the end).
On top of this, I would like to add the act of
COLLAGING
The other day I was joking with my friend Franny while I cut out pictures for a soon-to-be collage. I mentioned how collage is often seen as a lesser art form, if an art form at all. I understand why people think this, but I see something more romantic than stealing and rearranging others' paintings and photos. First of all, I like to think I am recycling artistically. Other than this, when I collage, I create whole new worlds out of what I usually assume is a stable world, how the world "is supposed to be". But I take these elements, remove them from their "natural home" and place them in a completely new environment. This gives me the courage to create, mold and alter my world and my views. Most of life and our relationships can also be seen as collages; as random assortments of colors, vocal points, national geographic clippings, all from different magazines and books but when they come together make something beautiful, bizarre, sometimes even eerie. Sometimes, maybe even most of the time, these images are even more beautiful in their new surroundings. They are no longer stiff and confined to the stiff pages of textbooks. They form a cacophony of paper that eventually learns to harmonize.
When I collage, it gives new meaning, purpose and beauty to otherwise discarded scraps of newspaper. They are given a second chance at infinity, immortality. Sometimes it makes me think that maybe I, too, in memory, in spoken word, may find some sort of immortality. That the words I speak will ring forever in the ears of my peers, like an echo in a cave caused by a rock that has long since quit tumbling but whose presence lingers on. That maybe all that I have done, said and felt may reverberate continuously through the world. These actions are the notes which cause(along with many many many others) the tuning fork (the world) to hum, and long after the key has been played, the vibrations can be felt.
the view/throwing rocks at trees
the gist of the lyrics:
Your gun went off.
Well you shot off your mouth and look where it got you.
My mouth runs on too.
Shouts from both sides,
"Well we've got the land but they've got the view!"
Well now here's the clue.
Life it rents us.
And yeah I hope it put plenty on you.
Well I hope mine did too.
As life gets longer, awful feels softer.
Well it feels pretty soft to me.
And if it takes shit to make bliss,
then I feel pretty blissfully.
We are fixed right where we stand.
For every invention made how much time did we save?
We're not much farther than we were in the cave.
If life's not beautiful without the pain,
well I'd just rather never ever even see beauty again.
Well as life gets longer, awful feels softer.
And it feels pretty soft to me.
For every good deed done there is a crime committed.
We are fixed.
For every step ahead we could have just been seated.
We are fixed.
We are fixed.
We are fixed.
We are fixed right where we stand.
I was listening to this song while I was on a walk and some of the lyrics really struck me. It relates to a post that I have been brewing up in my mind for an awful long while and so this was the straw on the camel's back to get me to start writing it. I know a while back I wrote that the only thing keeping yourself from being what you want to be is yourself and if you want to you could easily bridge that gap. Also, that happiness is attainable if you so choose, you just need to tweak your definition of it. In my opinion, these are all true, but it is not like happiness is a point you reach and then stay there forever after. It is not something you can hold onto for very long or ever fully comprehend. And, to be honest, would happiness be all that it is worked up to be if you could so easily bask in it at your leisure once you reached that level? No, it would be taken for granted. People would still be searching for that next high, that bliss that is another step above where they already are. So then, if these last few statements are true, happiness is for the most part unattainable, save for momentary glimpses. The closest we can get to happiness is striving for it. To always be working towards it, changing yourself, inventing new contraptions to reach it. As long as we are constantly toiling and yearning, we are getting closer, and in a sense, already there. I know I have contradicted myself several times, but something as complex as happiness, I'm sure, folds onto itself repeatedly so that any mere mortals words of reason can only claw at the surface. Here is an excerpt from an essay I wrote about utopia for my science fiction class that is applicable:
"...Furthermore, it may not be possible for a true Utopia to exist. Not only does everyone have a different definition of Utopia, but living within an actual perfect, peaceful, constant world might even be considered Dystopian by some. It is not a state that can be reached and maintained by reforming some laws or rearranging our genes; even after these changes, a constant struggle would still be necessary. Attempting to reach Utopia is similar to Shevek's example of throwing a rock at a tree because “[i]t doesn't matter how far it's gone, there's always a place, only it's a time really, that's halfway between the last place it was and the tree” (29). As Shevek exclaims when on Urras: “[t]he means are the end” (296), and therefore, the closest we can actually get to Utopia is striving for it."
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