Regrets

I guess while I'm at it, I could add a couple of other things that slipped out over the past five and a half years:

bring down the fortress of cobwebs
shackles of ice and gossamer
break free the caged bird
return
5/29/2012

i try to go back
i need to go back
but sand is there
relentlessly, filling the space
in my mind where the sweet dream was
and all that's left for me
is one blue eye
and one green eye
sex and coffee and colorful sheets
laughter and sad longing and desire
8/29/2012

A promise made:
You will be my last thought,
she said, Before I die.
But then she died.
And I don't know if she ever thought of me, really.
Death, passing, everyday things;

How to let go,
How to say goodbye,
Acceptance,
...These are things I know nothing about
Life, small things, everyday things;
Brushing teeth, coffee, dogs on the bed,
Empty gas tank, mown lawn,
A kiss,
A phone call,
Regrets.  Regrets.
...These are things I know about, these are things I know.
But I will never know if she thought of me in the end.  
1/23/2013

The ride was side tracked...

Five and a half years later....

Oh, right - there was this ride I was supposed to get on.  And enjoy. 

But it seems I was side tracked.  Dis-tracked.  Got on a completely different ride and forgot all about the first one.  I just did a free writing exercise earlier today.  I've been frustrated and wired and feeling quite out of sorts.  When one doesn't use one's muscles regularly they deteriorate.  My brain is one such muscle.  I found my way back to this blog today by chance - I'd completely forgotten about it.  Or maybe I thought I'd unsubscribed.  I don't know. In any case, it was certainly not at the front of my thoughts at any point over the past half decade.

But today I finally decided to put words down.  Because I'm tired of being brain dead.  I'm tired of thinking about creating something, but not actually doing anything about it.  And then I stumbled back on this blog. I wasn't looking for it at all - it really was by chance - totally unconnected to my writing exercise.  Although I should know by now that nothing is by chance.

In any case, this is what I wrote.  I don't particularly like it - but it's a start.  And I need to make a commitment to write just a little every week.  Just a little.  We'll see where it goes...

Things Lost.

Somewhere along the way, I lost my spark.  It now sits somewhere in my memory, buried.  A flicker of a shadow of something.  I remember myself as an energetic, free, creative girl.  My imagination was boundless.  I remember recounting dreams to my dad…long, rambling, pointless dreams where the protagonist gets caught up in pink puffy dresses and kitten stockings and sledding matches on horseback.  “are you sure that was a dream, Tary?  It sounds more like a story”  I was embarrassed.  Was it a story?  Was I lying?  Because it wasn’t my dream, it was what I wanted my dream to be.  Lying is bad.  So, is storytelling lying?  Is that a bad thing?

I used to start projects with fever and passion.  One year I decided that parachute pants were my “thing”.  I must have made twenty pair.  Okay, maybe not twenty.  That’s perhaps a bit of a stretch.  There I go, lying again….but it does make for a good story.  Twenty pair of shiny parachute pants.   I probably only made three or four pair.  My mother thought they were ridiculous.  They were.  Wow, were they ever.  I think I made a pair out of green and brown vertical striped satin.  I looked like a circus tent.  But I made them.  They were mine.

I wonder what ever happened to all of the things I made?  I would love to have a big room just for my ‘projects’.  I’m quite good at starting them.  Planning them out, getting all the pieces together.  Sketching the finished product – whatever it may be – a paper snowflake, a painted desk, a pair of parachute pants.  There’s so much I would love to be able to do – but never feel like I have the time or space to do it.  So I never even bother to start.  Because when I do start something – I rarely ever finish it.  I get bored quickly.  Or frustrated.  Or overwhelmed with the mess.  My easel has been very lonely these past seven years.  Not that I ever really used it much in the first place.  I remember hauling it home from the art store – I was SO excited!  I did use it – I maybe painted one or two things I liked.  But for about a year, I used it regularly.  But I stopped.  My paint box is in a closet – the paint tubes are probably all dried up.  I have a beautiful collection of yarn.  I was getting quite good at knitting. Lace was my favorite thing to knit.  Intricate and interesting.  Knitting is good, because you can do it while watching TV, sitting in a meeting, on a plane, listening to the radio.  I think I started to get carpel tunnel and stopped.  Now my yarn is collecting dust under the guest bed.  Every Christmas I endeavor to do something fun – make hand made decorations, snowflakes, table covers, pendants.  Whatever.  It overwhelms me.  I have a basket and a desk in the basement full of paper, glitter, sequins, paint, glue, ribbon….I have collected more beach stones and shells than I can count.  They were intended for jewelry, sculptures, projects.

Projects begun but never finished.  Because somewhere, I lost the spark to keep the momentum going.

Part of the ride...

I wonder if this thesis thing will ever get off the ground.

I know the answer to that already.

I've just been offered a "real" job. A really cool "real" job. Has nothing to do with my thesis or academic work. I sure do love a connection, but this is pretty unconnected.

Cross my fingers and knock on wood - but I should be out recruiting students and expanding a study abroad program that specializes in sending high-acheiving kids to Paris. Marketing, outreach, recruiting, travel. Yup. I can do that! Oh, and work from home. Yup. Can do that, too!

What room will be left for me to finish my thesis, then? Not much, I think.

We'll see...

Enjoy the Ride

Enjoy the ride.

That's what he said. Did he mention how frighteningly steep the drops were, and how unsurmountably high the subsequent climb?

Be in the moment. Feel the wind on your face as you pick up speed in the drop. Taste the sweat as you struggle upwards, eyes to the sun, blinded and thirsty. Is that what he meant?

Laugh as you realize you're about to spin out of control. Sing as you imagine the triumph of conquering that mountain. Is that what he was thinking?

It's what I'm thinking. It's what I have to think. Sometimes, I don't know if I'm falling, or climing. They're one and the same to me now. Is that what 'enjoy the ride' means?

Some high points:

Recent note to a friend:
"I've had a hard time of it over the last year, not very focused and not "feeling it". But I've since changed advisors, and we're on a neat direction...I hope. I'm at odds with the standard way of doing things in academia, in particular in the social sciences, where the wrtitten, 100 page, boring thesis reigns. I just don't believe that that's the only way to embody and display knowledge (if there is such a thing as knowledge). So, my advisor and I are working on a way to do something a little different - going to incorporate performace into it somehow. I want to be able to critique the current way of embodying knowledge - sort of critique by doing, instead of just writing. Performance studies is a relatively new branch for communication studies (Yes, I know it's existed elsewhere for a long time - but it's still "out there" for Comm). I love it. Harley is on my committee! Isn't that cool? So, even though I'm literally breaking new ground (as far as the Comm deptartment is concerned), and will be doing something more along the scope of a mini dissertation rather than a simple thesis - I'm excited about it."

And another:
"At this point I'm interested in examining how creative expression (e.g. artistic performance/product) is perceived and "commodified" as something extra-normal, heightened, or in the realm of the "other." Artists and their products - the process of artistic creation/production - seem to be commonly viewed as being able to access a realm of humanity that the "rest of us" can't quite "do" ourselves. I'm also particularly interested in the place of art in the academy: performance and art are clearly delineated as "other" than academic inquiry. The embodiment of knowledge takes all forms, and I believe that art is a powerful medium for knowledge production and dissemination - different in form than traditional social scientific academic inquiry - but no less valuable or important. So, ideally I want my thesis to confront these boundaries and to, in some way, bridge them. A big task, I know - but one that is fascinating to me."




http://www.un.org/Pubs/chronicle/tolerance/seminar.html

A colleague sent this link as a point of possible interest/study. I need to remember to watch the webcast.

Cats and Engineers

This doesn't really have anything to do with my thesis...but I don't want to forget it.

Cats and Engineers. Funny. Quite funny.

A Polite Conversation Between Burke, Locke, and Hume.

Stephen sent me this link a few weeks ago. It's an animated conversation between Burke, Locke, and Hume. My first thoughts on my thesis were inspired by Burke's "Prologue in Heaven" - the epilogue to Rhetoric of Religion - in which Satan and The Lord discuss (in dramatic form) the giving of language to humans. I thought how interesting it would be to see it performed, and from there emerged the idea of bringing theorists together at a round table discussion, a la Meeting Of Minds. But, as is apparent from this video, the possibility of tediousness is high unless one already has a very deep understanding of the theories these men are known for. Hmmm....what next?

Baby Steps...

Alrighty then. Just wrote something really great. And I lost it.

One of the things I was writing about was my technophobia, and sure 'nuff, erased the whole damn thing! Lesson learned.

First, want to share this video about the Young At Heart Chorus. Came across it online and it struck a chord (no pun intended, really). I think this says a lot about creativity, embodied knowledge, and language ideologies. It's late for me, so I can't explain. But I hope to come back to it soon.

In the erased post, I also brought up my conversation this afternoon with Brion re: my thesis. Embodied knowledges, privileged forms in academia, and how to present a thesis in a non-traditional way while still being able to make an argument for its authenticity. A performance of my knowledge is not "real" science (ahem, according to whom? and what about the question of whether science is an art...). In any case, he suggested looking at emerging technologies as a way to acheive this. My technophobic self had already had that thought, but I'd just as quickly disposed of it since it would require me to do a LOT of learning between now and next year. But in fact, that's exactly what I'm here to do - learn. The process of getting to this thesis is, I think, not only as important as the thesis itself (and is part and parcel of the 'final' product), but it also informs what happens after and through the thesis - and beyond.

So, here I am back at the blog. My first baby steps into the techno world. How will this inform me? What steps do I need to take next? Who knows, I will lead me where I go... (yes, that's not a typo: I will lead me where I go...)

"It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters in the end." Ursula K. LeGuin.

Brilliant. Simple.