|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| I just saw an old friend. He’s married. I’m unsure of... I’m unsure of everything. Steve forwarded me the letter he wrote to Dom, Christina, and Tamie. I miss him. Not the Steve I've known this past year, but the boy I used to know, the boy that wrote that letter to his dear friends. I miss his honest desire to love everybody in the best way possible. Now I wonder if he was being selective. I suppose I shouldn’t think of his as two people. His faults are as much a part of him as his strengths. Mine are as well. Will our weaknesses always quarrel so? Will they always prevent ease between us? That letter was not written to me. He doesn’t speak to me like that anymore. I’m not just a friend; I’m an ex. I wish I could flush that title away. The note he left me seemed harsh and angry. As if he was chastising me for, yet again, underestimating his complex situation. I didn’t mean to. No one who read that letter could think lightly of his experience in Russia. At first when he wrote me it sounded like he was looking for warmth and color. Then he chastised me for giving it to him. Maybe it's not that he has changed at all. Maybe he is just closer with them. Maybe that's just how he is with friends that he loves. I wish I could say that I didn’t care anymore, that his opinion wasn’t so significant. I have become more confident about my reading selections on Sunday nights. There is no one left to look down upon me when I chose the same fairy tale that I’ve read three thousand times, or the introduction of a beautiful novel that I found on the New York Times BSL instead of the Cambridge literary canon. No one rolls their eyes when I overact the stories. It is still a heavy price to pay. I miss his presence; I miss his jokes and comments; I miss his books. Oh, do I miss his books! He has introduced me to some of my favorite writers; Wendell Barry, Milton, Nabokov… I found John Donne inside of a maroon book of poetry sitting on his dresser. I’ve snatched half of my favorite albums from his computer. It’s more than that. It’s so much more than that. Eventually, everything will be easy between us. I suppose it will happen when we grow up.
Written two days later...
It was nice to see Chris again. I feel warm and comfortable with him. I wish that we could always be like this, that we could joke and hug and have three-hour debates without slogging our whole friendship through the semi-romantic episodes that make everything so awkward. Maybe this time we can. He claims to be “talking” to a girl in Romeo and Juliet. He baits me with minute tidbits of information, hints that I know her, hopes that I will ask more. I do. I like this game. It reminds me of my brother Cameron. I miss Cameron. I should go. I'll finish this later. | | |
| So, as predicted, I have horridly neglected this poor "blog". I always think that blog is a funny word. There is something about the way it rolls out of my throat that reminds me of a large ball of gak. Does anyone remember gak? That green smelly slime that was marketed by Nickelodeon. Anyway, I think I'm going to start posting my discussion homework here. We are supposed to prepare a summary, personal response, connection, and question for the class. Perhaps that way I can get a few comments on it before class.
This is for Easter Wings by George Herbert (who, by the way, rocks my socks!):
Summary: Easter Wings is four stanzas of varying meter. The visual format of the poem gives the impression of two sets of angel's wings. It depicts the fall, and later redemption of man through God.
Response: The amount of detail Herbert put into this poem was amazes to me. The meter, rhyme, shape, and word placement express the meaning of the poet. The first stanza literally made me feel as if I were being reduced down to something less:
Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store, Though foolishly he lost the same, Decaying more and more, Till he became Most Poore:
It was a feeling reminiscent of being confronted by a friend whom I have wronged. The second stanza gives the feeling of relief and jubilation one knows upon forgiveness. The last line of the second stanza struck a particular chord in me. "Then shall the fall further the flight in me." The fall into darkness allows a true appreciation of light, like starvation will make that first bite of bread entirely luscious.
The fourth and fifth stanzas create a second pair of wings. Though the meter and rhyme scheme are identical to those of the first set of wings, the "feathers" appear unbalanced, tattered, and obviously unworthy of flight. Herbert claims that he must lean his wings on those of the Lord, who could be represented by the first two stanzas.
Or, perhaps, they represent the Old and New Testaments. The first set of wings would be the Old, depicting man's journey from his first fall from grace in the Garden of Eden to the life of the slaves in Egypt. If so, then the second stanza would represent God leading man out of Egypt to the Promised Land. The third would be man's repeated fall at the beginning of the New Testament. The fourth proclaims the creed of the New Testament: that man can only find healing by joining himself with Christ.
Herbert's attention to detail simply astounds me. I cannot imagine the genius that is able to create such a complex piece of art through words. Though his is a quieter passion than that of Donne or Milton, his control shows a strength that only comes with age, study, and dedication.
Connection: The comparison between Donne and Herbert reminded me of the transition from romanticism to impressionism in art, specifically, Van Gogh and Vermeer. Van Gogh's impetuous brush strokes will stir the viewer into a flurry, but Vermeer's subtle light will move one to stillness.
Question: What is the meaning of the transition between the first and second two stanzas? | | |
| I love psychology! I think I can do a lot of good with it. Lecture today was about the social-cognitive theory, and I found a lot of truth in it. It was introduced by Albert Bandura. He believed that someone's personality is the result of behavior, environment, and cognition (memory, self efficacy, and the general thinking process). I personally think that part of the personality is innate, but that's because I believe in a soul. So, he believed that each one of these factors directly influences the others. They create a cycle.
par exemple: Environment: a child's parents are getting divorced and he goes to a large public school. He gets little attention from his parents, because of everything they are going through at home.
Behavior: He seeks amusement on his own through television or video games or the computer. It also becomes an effective way to escape the turmoil present in his house. I know that this is assumptive, but to me it seems to be a popular trend.
Cognition: That glowing screen becomes a comfort to him. He escapes into it more and more often. He spends more time in front of "the tube" (that phrase makes me giggle) than books.
Environment: It becomes a social thing when his friends join him. They create a whole new "social community" around the X-Box. The problem is that while they are escaping, the world goes on. Classes get harder, relationships more complex, and when these things intimidate them- they seek escape.
Behavior: The more they play, the more they miss out. They have had no positive affirmation that they can do whatever they set their minds to. Maybe they do not even realize their own beautiful potential!
So it keeps looping back on itself, but the deal breaker in self-efficacy. It's the "I think there for I am" principal. It's what you know you can do. If you know that you can write an amazing personal statement for college, then you will. If you think that you can change the world, then you will. If you believe that the world is your oyster, then you with sword you shall slice it!
If you are intimidated by these things, then you will shrink away from your own potential.
So I think that the key might be in teachers. It seems like in public schools the students who seek attention get it, but they are not the ones that need it. It's like in the bible. Christ helped the slackers, because they were the people that needed it. A child needs inspiration. He needs attention. He will not accept it. He will complain- now, but, ten years you will be the teacher he references in his Nobel Prize speech. Even better, you will be the teacher he tells his child about.
I met a teacher like that, after I had graduated high school. She was my friend Steve’s English teacher. Her name is Cornelia. She seeks out students who are having a difficult time and re-guides them in a good direction. It’s not even the direction she would have chosen, but the golden path she thinks they might excel in. She is normally right. She listens to them and counsels them while introducing them to George MacDonald and Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and Soren Kierkegaard. I don’t even think that she thinks about it. She seems like a natural mother. I think I want to be like that one day. She’s like Miss Rumphius, but her lupines are books and hugs. I want to do something like that.
So there we go!
I think I've found my major.
I have a sudden urge to plant lupines all over Berkeley.
| | |
|