Hello, all!
I just redesigned my blog. Though I loved the whole Eiffel Tower thing, I decided it was time I change it up again. This is kind of less pretty, but it's simple-- it kind of goes with me not knowing where this blog is going. It still has a bit of the Eiffel Tower, and the banner (I made it with Paint and Word...) is made up of some of my favorite pictures from France (and one from Italy). It's interesting, if anything.
Making that banner made me think that I should do a round-up of my favorite pictures from France. I already have a pretty good list, but I have THOUSANDS of pictures. Not really sure what else to do with them, so maybe sometime in the upcoming months, I'll make that.
I don't think I'll be posting daily in March. I have a few posts that I know will be coming up soon-- tomorrow, expect a round-up of all my February posts and on Wednesday, I'm participating in an FFB blogging event, so that will be posted then. But other than that, I really don't know what is in store.
I've really enjoyed writing every day for the last month, and I would definitely like to continue that. It's been awesome to see how many people have been reading my posts, and I've had so many great comments from you guys. I'm incredibly thankful, and I'm glad that my words made you feel the need to respond. I hope you continue with the commenting, because it makes my day every time! It's like I'm getting to know you guys, and part of me just wants to call you all my friends (some of you are already), but either way... thanks, friends :)
OKAY. I'm going to stop being ramble-y now, because I have things to go do (and books to read, I just got two more from the library today... it just feels like a reading week for me), but I'll see you back here tomorrow!
Questions for today:
- What do you think about the new blog design?
- What do you want me to write about in the future?
A demain!
-Aly
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Mindless Reading
Hello, all!
So, today is the second-to-last day of daily blogging! And I really did nothing of interest today. I wen to the library and re-shelved books for a while (volunteering is FUN.), and then I wandered down to the YA section to see if they had any of the books I've been wanting to read.
After yesterday, I was just thinking too much about too many things, which seems to be the norm for this month, so I purposefully sought out books by authors I like and some of the silly, mindless chick-lit that I gravitate towards when I am reading with the express purpose of NOT thinking too hard.
I hate to be a stereotypical teenage girl here, but... it's like Chick Flicks. A shameful secret, but I do kind of adore the sensation of engrossing myself in a cutesy-vaguely-romantic story, even if the writing is awful. Also, I'm completely okay with books that I can read quickly and not have to dwell on for long after. It's exhausting to have to analyze everything in a book, sometimes.
So today I picked up The Boyfriend List by E. Lockhart (I keep seeing it at the used bookstore that I love, but I didn't think it was worth spending money on...) and Kiss & Blog by Alyson Noel (I've read another of her books before, and I wondered if this was any better. And I admit, I kind of love books that have a main character that blogs, because I wonder if I can relate.) I got exactly what I bargained for: crappy teen romances with little substance. Kiss and Blog was particularly poorly-written and frustrating, and I'll probably be reviewing it on Goodreads later.
I don't feel bad about wasting several hours of my day on these books. It's nice to read for fun. But at the same time, some of the issues I found in the books are ones that rile up the feminist part of me and I wonder about the quality of literature and of female characters, and even the validity of "chick lit". What an awful name, too-- chick lit-- as though it's somehow inferior to other literature. (Though in this case, it was... I mean...)
I'll be participating in an FFB (Feminist Fashion Bloggers) event in a few days, so look for that. But I think that I could definitely write about Chick Lit and female protagonists sometime, but since today is my day of mindless reading, I am not going to go into a rant that requires actual brain power.
What do you do when you don't WANT to think? Do you have any shameful pleasures that you usually don't share?
(Also, if you know what goodreads is, you are AWESOME.)
A demain!
-Aly
So, today is the second-to-last day of daily blogging! And I really did nothing of interest today. I wen to the library and re-shelved books for a while (volunteering is FUN.), and then I wandered down to the YA section to see if they had any of the books I've been wanting to read.
After yesterday, I was just thinking too much about too many things, which seems to be the norm for this month, so I purposefully sought out books by authors I like and some of the silly, mindless chick-lit that I gravitate towards when I am reading with the express purpose of NOT thinking too hard.
I hate to be a stereotypical teenage girl here, but... it's like Chick Flicks. A shameful secret, but I do kind of adore the sensation of engrossing myself in a cutesy-vaguely-romantic story, even if the writing is awful. Also, I'm completely okay with books that I can read quickly and not have to dwell on for long after. It's exhausting to have to analyze everything in a book, sometimes.
So today I picked up The Boyfriend List by E. Lockhart (I keep seeing it at the used bookstore that I love, but I didn't think it was worth spending money on...) and Kiss & Blog by Alyson Noel (I've read another of her books before, and I wondered if this was any better. And I admit, I kind of love books that have a main character that blogs, because I wonder if I can relate.) I got exactly what I bargained for: crappy teen romances with little substance. Kiss and Blog was particularly poorly-written and frustrating, and I'll probably be reviewing it on Goodreads later.
I don't feel bad about wasting several hours of my day on these books. It's nice to read for fun. But at the same time, some of the issues I found in the books are ones that rile up the feminist part of me and I wonder about the quality of literature and of female characters, and even the validity of "chick lit". What an awful name, too-- chick lit-- as though it's somehow inferior to other literature. (Though in this case, it was... I mean...)
I'll be participating in an FFB (Feminist Fashion Bloggers) event in a few days, so look for that. But I think that I could definitely write about Chick Lit and female protagonists sometime, but since today is my day of mindless reading, I am not going to go into a rant that requires actual brain power.
What do you do when you don't WANT to think? Do you have any shameful pleasures that you usually don't share?
(Also, if you know what goodreads is, you are AWESOME.)
A demain!
-Aly
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Out of my Comfort Zone
Hello, all!
I'm emailing this to my blog from my phone because I kind of doubt I'll want to write it later when I get home. It's very possible I'd forget to post altogether.
If you know me in real life, you know I'm awkward. Even more so when you put me in a situation that is out of my comfort zone. Case in point: tonight.
Every year, Habitat for Humanity hosts these dances for local high schools, and the cost of the tickets goes towards their work. It's a win-win for area teenagers-- you get to socialize and "dance" with the added bonus of seeing people from other schools and pretending that all of that is merely to benefit charity.
I avoid such things on principle, but I kind of regret missing out on some of these events in the past. Tonight, however was the neon dance, and for the first time in my high school years, I went.
I can't say I was really impressed. It was exactly what I expected, and I was so far out of my comfort zone that I couldn't even fully enjoy it.
I fully believe that everybody should try something out of their comfort zone at least once. But, I understand the reluctance, too. Because doing something completely different from what you would normally is TERRIFYING. It's awkward and you look around constantly, searching some other option-- like escape.
There's nothing that quite makes you feel so powerless (and, again, awkward) as being in a room full of people that know what they're doing while you cross your fingers and your arms and try to maintain the carefully constructed mask of indifferent confidence. Especially when all you really want to do is bury your face in your hands and run from the room, maybe even screaming, but potentially crying because it's AWFUL.
But you don't and you walk around and breathe (in my case, breathing in the heavy scent of sweat, body heat, and booze...) and hope that by the end of the night you find some semblance of courage.
The thing is, even out of my comfort zone, horribly and awkwardly out of place like christmas carols in July, there is something to learn in moments like these. However, I have yet to know what, exactly. I'll let you know :)
A demain!
-Aly
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Friday, February 25, 2011
100 Happy Things
Hello, all!
Well, this is the 100th post. Not much, is it?
I wasn't sure what to write about today, but I keep posting relatively heavy things, so my friend Lindsey suggested I write a post about things to be happy about. I figured that was an appropriate celebration of my 100th post, so...
100 Things to Be Happy About:
Well, I could probably go on for a long time, but... this is just 100 things I thought of that I think you should be happy about. These are things I am happy about, anyway!
Thank you so much to Lindsey for inspiring this list, and to all the people that have inspired particular reasons to be happy on this list. To all the readers-- the one about being heard-- that's for you. Thank you all so much for commenting and reading!
A demain!
<3
-Aly
Well, this is the 100th post. Not much, is it?
I wasn't sure what to write about today, but I keep posting relatively heavy things, so my friend Lindsey suggested I write a post about things to be happy about. I figured that was an appropriate celebration of my 100th post, so...
100 Things to Be Happy About:
- The beauty of weather.
- The ability to see and interact with the world around you.
- Bizarre conversations that have no purpose.
- That moment when you realize that somebody else knows EXACTLY what you're talking about.
- Not failing at high-fives... or even better, high-tens.
- Unplanned meetings with friends in the middle of the hallway.
- Hearing a song that feels perfect for that moment.
- Knowing how to be alone.
- Planning for the next great adventure.
- Alternatively, planning nothing at all and just DOING.
- The moment right after a hard run or a hard day when you realize that you survived.
- The scent of spring on the air, and the first flower buds emerging from the ground.
- Writing poetry.
- Reading a book that distracts you completely from your life.
- When people listen to what you have to say and offer exactly what you need in response.
- Baking and cooking for pleasure.
- Dreams of the possibilities of the future.
- Meeting new people & making new friends.
- Getting past the awkward getting-to-know-you stage.
- Learning a new instrument and not even caring how terrible you are.
- Feeling confident.
- Stepping outside of your comfort zone and not regretting it.
- Days when worries are forgotten.
- When you find yourself smiling for no reason at all.
- Laughing uncontrollably.
- Chocolate.
- Dancing in the rain.
- Spending a day watching favorite movies.
- Reading outside.
- Creating something beautiful.
- The first moment of summer vacation.
- Reconnecting with old friends.
- Achieving a goal.
- Catching 11:11 and making a wish.
- Being reminded that you are loved.
- Overcoming a challenge.
- Having an epiphany.
- Eating the last bite of something delicious.
- Giving presents...
- Especially for no reason at all.
- Waking up and knowing that today will be a GOOD day.
- Fresh, clean towels.
- Modern medicine.
- Learning something new.
- Re-reading favorite books from your childhood.
- Following a recommendation.
- The warmth of sunlight.
- Cuddling with a pet.
- Finding a hidden treasure.
- Remembering something you had forgotten.
- Traveling by train.
- Feeling invincible.
- Dancing around the house when nobody else is around.
- Singing loudly in the shower.
- Feeling beautiful.
- Looking through photo albums.
- Wearing awesome socks.
- Expecting the worst but hearing the best.
- Pleasant surprises.
- Inside jokes.
- Sharing once-embarrassing stories.
- Forgiving somebody.
- Being forgiven.
- Volunteering for a worthy cause.
- Doing something for yourself, not because you expected to.
- Knowing that people have heard you.
- Finding the perfect "thinking spot".
- Reading old journals or stories.
- Going barefoot when the ground is damp.
- Snow days.
- Daydreaming.
- Blasting music in the car while driving.
- Staying up late and actually accomplishing something.
- Watching movies in the middle of the night.
- Counting down to an event.
- Watching movies with friends.
- Holding hands.
- Trying on silly hats.
- Having a clean room.
- Taking pictures of nature.
- Beautiful sunrises and sunsets.
- Picnics.
- Meeting somebody you admire.
- Receiving mail.
- Starting to write in a new notebook.
- Finding old notes from friends.
- Writing nonsense songs.
- Whispering secrets in the middle of the night.
- Filling your day with happy things.
- Walking through a park.
- Being optimistic.
- Beautiful quotes.
- The internet.
- Testing a new recipe and having it fail-- but enjoying the process anyway.
- Saying "I love you".
- Enjoying the silence.
- Being complimented.
- Having an honest debate about opinions without getting offended.
- Light.
- Just... living.
Well, I could probably go on for a long time, but... this is just 100 things I thought of that I think you should be happy about. These are things I am happy about, anyway!
Thank you so much to Lindsey for inspiring this list, and to all the people that have inspired particular reasons to be happy on this list. To all the readers-- the one about being heard-- that's for you. Thank you all so much for commenting and reading!
A demain!
<3
-Aly
Thursday, February 24, 2011
An Unsurprising Confession
Hello, all!
I'm not sure what to write about today. This is my 99th post and all I can think about is how today was just a good day. Not a memorable day, but just a good day-- or at least good enough that I feel good right now.
I have a confession to make. Nothing bad.
Tomorrow, I have to turn in the title to an essay I have to write for my Shakespeare class that is due in 4th quarter. I only had one idea-- the role of women in Shakespeare, particularly Ophelia in Hamlet and Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing. They're two VERY different characters, and it's kind of along the lines of feminism (which I've been thinking about MORE lately since I joined FFB). However, over the course of a quick conversation with my teacher, my new topic will be Sociology in Shakespeare, as in how does Shakespeare represent societal issues, stereotypes, and ideas in his works? Like antisemitism in the Merchant of Venice, religion in Hamlet, women in any of his plays (but particularly Taming of the Shrew), racism in Othello... I'm already really excited about writing it, though I wonder how I will fit all that I could find to say into a four or five page paper.
I'm sure it's obvious by now, my confession is that I'm a bit of a Shakespeare nerd. It's completely unsurprising, actually; I've talked about my Shakespeare class a lot over many posts, and I love spending time at the bookstore looking for books that are inspired by some of his works. I find his sonnets to be beautiful, his plays to be wonderfully complex, and his language to be enchanting. I love his characters, and they're written so well that I can't help but marvel at his mastery. I mean, granted, some of his characters annoy me to no end, but I think that's a good thing-- they're so real, enough that I respond emotionally to their stories.
Earlier this year, I had never read Shakespeare before (my education has been lacking; usually freshmen read Romeo and Juliet but my class didn't). I had only heard about the class from some of my friends over the years (all positive reviews), but I've also heard bad things about Shakespeare's works-- how it's confusing and complicated and overwhelming and the language is dull or hard to understand. My mom is particularly fond of informing me that she couldn't make it through three weeks of Shakespeare in high school and she thinks I'm insane because I love it.
The thing is, I wanted to learn Shakespeare. I wanted to take this class, if anything just to read classic literature (I love most classics); as a writer, I figured learning the stories that are ingrained into our culture would only help me. But taking this class has been one of the best decisions I've made in high school. I doubt that I could have started reading Shakespeare on my own, and I doubt that I would have loved it as much if I had just read that one play as a freshman; I fear that my view of it would be skewed by the opinions of my classmates and a general reluctance to understand. But as I spent time in France (and had to read a bit of Shakespeare to French class... in English...), I thought about how sad it was that I had never read anything of his. How sad it was that I was missing out on such an important part of English literature. So I signed up for Shakespeare 101 and 102, which turns a semester class into a two-semester class and I have enjoyed every second of it.
At the beginning of the year, my teacher asked us if we had read Shakespeare before-- most had read Romeo and Juliet-- and if we had a favorite. The answer was no, we didn't have a favorite, due to lack of exposure.
I still don't know what my favorite would be. I still can't choose. I love his comedies (we read the Taming of the Shrew and Much Ado about Nothing)-- the puns and insults are hilarious! The Tempest (one of his romances) was powerful and there's that one speech... The Merchant of Venice forced me to think and sparked incredibly interesting debates in my class. Henry V is a history, but the tale transcends generations (also, comparing the movies was fun). We spent too much time on Hamlet, but I really didn't mind because I still love it despite the fact that I spent 9 weeks working on it in English and in Shakespeare 101. And now we're reading Othello and there are mysteries to be solved in each character of the play. I'm intrigued. The point is, I don't know if I will ever be able to choose a favorite.
Anyway, now you know. I'm a Shakespeare nerd.
Confession time is fun. Any confessions about nerdy pursuits? I'd love to hear them, especially if you share my love for Shakespeare!
I'm not sure what to write about today. This is my 99th post and all I can think about is how today was just a good day. Not a memorable day, but just a good day-- or at least good enough that I feel good right now.
I have a confession to make. Nothing bad.
Tomorrow, I have to turn in the title to an essay I have to write for my Shakespeare class that is due in 4th quarter. I only had one idea-- the role of women in Shakespeare, particularly Ophelia in Hamlet and Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing. They're two VERY different characters, and it's kind of along the lines of feminism (which I've been thinking about MORE lately since I joined FFB). However, over the course of a quick conversation with my teacher, my new topic will be Sociology in Shakespeare, as in how does Shakespeare represent societal issues, stereotypes, and ideas in his works? Like antisemitism in the Merchant of Venice, religion in Hamlet, women in any of his plays (but particularly Taming of the Shrew), racism in Othello... I'm already really excited about writing it, though I wonder how I will fit all that I could find to say into a four or five page paper.
I'm sure it's obvious by now, my confession is that I'm a bit of a Shakespeare nerd. It's completely unsurprising, actually; I've talked about my Shakespeare class a lot over many posts, and I love spending time at the bookstore looking for books that are inspired by some of his works. I find his sonnets to be beautiful, his plays to be wonderfully complex, and his language to be enchanting. I love his characters, and they're written so well that I can't help but marvel at his mastery. I mean, granted, some of his characters annoy me to no end, but I think that's a good thing-- they're so real, enough that I respond emotionally to their stories.
Earlier this year, I had never read Shakespeare before (my education has been lacking; usually freshmen read Romeo and Juliet but my class didn't). I had only heard about the class from some of my friends over the years (all positive reviews), but I've also heard bad things about Shakespeare's works-- how it's confusing and complicated and overwhelming and the language is dull or hard to understand. My mom is particularly fond of informing me that she couldn't make it through three weeks of Shakespeare in high school and she thinks I'm insane because I love it.
The thing is, I wanted to learn Shakespeare. I wanted to take this class, if anything just to read classic literature (I love most classics); as a writer, I figured learning the stories that are ingrained into our culture would only help me. But taking this class has been one of the best decisions I've made in high school. I doubt that I could have started reading Shakespeare on my own, and I doubt that I would have loved it as much if I had just read that one play as a freshman; I fear that my view of it would be skewed by the opinions of my classmates and a general reluctance to understand. But as I spent time in France (and had to read a bit of Shakespeare to French class... in English...), I thought about how sad it was that I had never read anything of his. How sad it was that I was missing out on such an important part of English literature. So I signed up for Shakespeare 101 and 102, which turns a semester class into a two-semester class and I have enjoyed every second of it.
At the beginning of the year, my teacher asked us if we had read Shakespeare before-- most had read Romeo and Juliet-- and if we had a favorite. The answer was no, we didn't have a favorite, due to lack of exposure.
I still don't know what my favorite would be. I still can't choose. I love his comedies (we read the Taming of the Shrew and Much Ado about Nothing)-- the puns and insults are hilarious! The Tempest (one of his romances) was powerful and there's that one speech... The Merchant of Venice forced me to think and sparked incredibly interesting debates in my class. Henry V is a history, but the tale transcends generations (also, comparing the movies was fun). We spent too much time on Hamlet, but I really didn't mind because I still love it despite the fact that I spent 9 weeks working on it in English and in Shakespeare 101. And now we're reading Othello and there are mysteries to be solved in each character of the play. I'm intrigued. The point is, I don't know if I will ever be able to choose a favorite.
Anyway, now you know. I'm a Shakespeare nerd.
Confession time is fun. Any confessions about nerdy pursuits? I'd love to hear them, especially if you share my love for Shakespeare!
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Highway
Hello, all!
I was looking for unused journals the other day--- I have loads of those-- and I found the writing notebook I was keeping in 2009. It's a notebook from a friend; every so often a quote or lyrics from a song interrupt the still-blank pages, but this notebook holds poems (I don't remember what they're about) and the list I was keeping of Things I Learned in 2009. I never completed the list, mostly because I forgot the notebook at home when I went to France, which bothered me while I was there. Anyway, I apparently wrote this poem on January 18th of 2009 while riding in a car. (Because travel inspires me.) I'm going to type it up as it's written; nothing is altered.
The fading light
turns the dried dead
treetops
into branches
of red
reaching for the sky.
The indigo and peach
clouds
hover just
out of range,
untouchable
to me.
I so love
the pink hue
joining the two-tone
condensation rainbow.
Framed by shadowed
mountains
in this grassy valley
split by grey lanes
and yellow lines.
Trapeze wires
above suffocating
caged people
too distracted
to notice the
winged creatures
waiting for the
sunset.
The line of trees
sit
so bare
on the highest ridge
and a path
cuts in between
unwalked
by bared feet
in cold winter
mud deepened
by two days of
shadows and snow.
(Side note... unwalked? Not a word.)
Also, this is post number 98. The 100th post has already been written, and it's set up to publish on the 25th.
What do you think of my early 2009 poetry?
... I just found a different poem that works perfectly with a story idea I had in 2010. Wow. That's exciting!
A demain!
-Aly
P.S. Thank you for all the comments lately! I wish that blogger had threaded comments so that I could reply to each and it still make sense!
I was looking for unused journals the other day--- I have loads of those-- and I found the writing notebook I was keeping in 2009. It's a notebook from a friend; every so often a quote or lyrics from a song interrupt the still-blank pages, but this notebook holds poems (I don't remember what they're about) and the list I was keeping of Things I Learned in 2009. I never completed the list, mostly because I forgot the notebook at home when I went to France, which bothered me while I was there. Anyway, I apparently wrote this poem on January 18th of 2009 while riding in a car. (Because travel inspires me.) I'm going to type it up as it's written; nothing is altered.
The fading light
turns the dried dead
treetops
into branches
of red
reaching for the sky.
The indigo and peach
clouds
hover just
out of range,
untouchable
to me.
I so love
the pink hue
joining the two-tone
condensation rainbow.
Framed by shadowed
mountains
in this grassy valley
split by grey lanes
and yellow lines.
Trapeze wires
above suffocating
caged people
too distracted
to notice the
winged creatures
waiting for the
sunset.
The line of trees
sit
so bare
on the highest ridge
and a path
cuts in between
unwalked
by bared feet
in cold winter
mud deepened
by two days of
shadows and snow.
(Side note... unwalked? Not a word.)
Also, this is post number 98. The 100th post has already been written, and it's set up to publish on the 25th.
What do you think of my early 2009 poetry?
... I just found a different poem that works perfectly with a story idea I had in 2010. Wow. That's exciting!
A demain!
-Aly
P.S. Thank you for all the comments lately! I wish that blogger had threaded comments so that I could reply to each and it still make sense!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
The Senses
Hello, all!
I went to the hospital today to visit a friend that was recently in a car crash and is now recovering. He's partially blind in one eye now, and I can't help but think about sight. Not just the physical ability to see, but to "see" as in to understand, and of course the different ways in which we see each other.
Has anybody ever asked you which you would prefer-- to be blind or to be unable to hear? What about speaking? I still don't know how to answer that. I rely on my eyes; beautiful images inspire me, but I love music and the sound of voices. And honestly, I talk too much.
It's weird though, to think about how we take such things for granted-- the senses that build our world. I can't imagine living without one or the other; it is hard to imagine how my vision of the world would change with my ability to experience it in so many different ways. How would it be to be deprived of one of those senses? Would the world change dramatically? Would you miss the sense that you lost? Would your perception of yourself change?
That's the other question I have about sight. We all see the world differently, of course, but literally-- what is the difference? We don't have a way to tell. Do you ever wonder about how other people see you? Or the ways that you see other people? Do you see them clearly? Are the colors the same, the faces? How does that differ from how we see ourselves? I mean, not just physically-- when we are looking at others, do we perceive them as their physical selves or as something else? Do we see them through rose-tinted glass?
Are we capable of viewing people objectively?
I always wonder how people see me. I know well enough how I see myself and though I shouldn't care about what others think, I'm honestly curious about the way they perceive me. What am I to the people around me? To friends, acquaintances, family...?
Are our perceptions of people locked or do they change?
I think our perceptions can change, as our eyesight does. But as our eyes grow weaker with age, do we see better or worse than we did when we were younger, at least in the figurative sense? How would we perceive others if we could only "see" them through a certain sense?
Do we associate particular senses with particular people? Like, when we think of friends, or we notice something about somebody that is customary to somebody else, how do we associate it? (That didn't make sense. ... ha, punny.) For example, do you associate the scent of a person most with them or their voice? How do all of the senses come into play when we "see" somebody?
I wonder sometimes if I am seeing the world in a way that is clear-- do I see the people around me as blurry lines, or do I see them like I would characters in a novel? How does my perception of people interact with their reality and their perception of me?
I guess I'm trying to say that sight is complicated. "Seeing" physically and perceiving are different from each other, and even then, everything is skewed. Our senses allow us to "see" people, but we could be misunderstanding.
Sorry about the fifty million questions in this. If you have your own answer for any of them, I'd love to hear! (HA.)
Also, sorry about all the puns. :)
A demain!
-Aly
I went to the hospital today to visit a friend that was recently in a car crash and is now recovering. He's partially blind in one eye now, and I can't help but think about sight. Not just the physical ability to see, but to "see" as in to understand, and of course the different ways in which we see each other.
Has anybody ever asked you which you would prefer-- to be blind or to be unable to hear? What about speaking? I still don't know how to answer that. I rely on my eyes; beautiful images inspire me, but I love music and the sound of voices. And honestly, I talk too much.
It's weird though, to think about how we take such things for granted-- the senses that build our world. I can't imagine living without one or the other; it is hard to imagine how my vision of the world would change with my ability to experience it in so many different ways. How would it be to be deprived of one of those senses? Would the world change dramatically? Would you miss the sense that you lost? Would your perception of yourself change?
That's the other question I have about sight. We all see the world differently, of course, but literally-- what is the difference? We don't have a way to tell. Do you ever wonder about how other people see you? Or the ways that you see other people? Do you see them clearly? Are the colors the same, the faces? How does that differ from how we see ourselves? I mean, not just physically-- when we are looking at others, do we perceive them as their physical selves or as something else? Do we see them through rose-tinted glass?
Are we capable of viewing people objectively?
I always wonder how people see me. I know well enough how I see myself and though I shouldn't care about what others think, I'm honestly curious about the way they perceive me. What am I to the people around me? To friends, acquaintances, family...?
Are our perceptions of people locked or do they change?
I think our perceptions can change, as our eyesight does. But as our eyes grow weaker with age, do we see better or worse than we did when we were younger, at least in the figurative sense? How would we perceive others if we could only "see" them through a certain sense?
Do we associate particular senses with particular people? Like, when we think of friends, or we notice something about somebody that is customary to somebody else, how do we associate it? (That didn't make sense. ... ha, punny.) For example, do you associate the scent of a person most with them or their voice? How do all of the senses come into play when we "see" somebody?
I wonder sometimes if I am seeing the world in a way that is clear-- do I see the people around me as blurry lines, or do I see them like I would characters in a novel? How does my perception of people interact with their reality and their perception of me?
I guess I'm trying to say that sight is complicated. "Seeing" physically and perceiving are different from each other, and even then, everything is skewed. Our senses allow us to "see" people, but we could be misunderstanding.
Sorry about the fifty million questions in this. If you have your own answer for any of them, I'd love to hear! (HA.)
Also, sorry about all the puns. :)
A demain!
-Aly
Monday, February 21, 2011
The Inevitability of Death
Hello, all!
I have lots of thoughts in my head again today. I have songs that are reminding me of emotions and provoking thoughts, images that are causing me to dream, videos that are making me think, words that are spilling from crevices in my brain.
Did you ever realize how many poems and books are dedicated to the message that death is inevitable? Why is it?
I can only imagine that our fascination with death comes from our fear of it. Death is terrifying, the idea that all things end is an unpleasant truth. It's hard to think of loss, the void created by losing friends or losing yourself-- of everything you are familiar with coming to an end. There are so many things about death to be afraid of and to wonder about. The afterlife or lack thereof; what is it like, if it exists? How will we each die? What will our legacy be?
The other day my friend Kimm said, "In the end, the dates on your headstone will not be what matters-- the dash between them will be." If you take that literally, then it really says nothing important, but I understand what Kimm is trying to say: it isn't our death that matters, but the span of our lives. Even if our lives are cut short by one thing or another (there are far too many possibilities), what matters most is what we did with that life.
I think we're foolish to dwell on death the way we do. Death is coming, yes; everything is in the process of dying. It's depressing and overwhelming, but true. I think our problem (if it's even a problem at all) is that we only KNOW life. I mean, we know it as much as something unpredictable and illogical, but we enjoy LIVING.
I keep thinking about how many characters in literature seem to have this same fascination with death and dying. Think of Hamlet and Frankenstein. Voldemort. Classics and modern literature alike, characters frequently seem preoccupied with death-- or how to avoid it. How to become immortal in some way. Immortality is our poison, our addiction: the idea of living forever. Maybe it is because we think immortality is the same as power, or maybe we are just obsessed with the idea that we can avoid the Great Perhaps of death. (Looking for Alaska reference)
Maybe when we think about death, we think of how we aren't ready for death. What if we're NEVER ready? What then? Will we be okay with letting go of life?
I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing-- to be frightened by death. I think the reason it's so present in literature is because we can all relate; we know what it is like to think about it and to want to avoid it or to wonder about the value of our own lives. It's humbling and it's terrifying, but it reminds us to live-- to seek out whatever it is in life that will make us feel like our time here is valuable. One day we will seek a Great Perhaps, even if we're reluctant. But life is our first adventure.
Once again, I deviated from my point. I'm getting really bad about that...
(On the bright side, it's sort of relevant to the theme of character! :) )
A demain!
-Aly
I have lots of thoughts in my head again today. I have songs that are reminding me of emotions and provoking thoughts, images that are causing me to dream, videos that are making me think, words that are spilling from crevices in my brain.
Did you ever realize how many poems and books are dedicated to the message that death is inevitable? Why is it?
I can only imagine that our fascination with death comes from our fear of it. Death is terrifying, the idea that all things end is an unpleasant truth. It's hard to think of loss, the void created by losing friends or losing yourself-- of everything you are familiar with coming to an end. There are so many things about death to be afraid of and to wonder about. The afterlife or lack thereof; what is it like, if it exists? How will we each die? What will our legacy be?
The other day my friend Kimm said, "In the end, the dates on your headstone will not be what matters-- the dash between them will be." If you take that literally, then it really says nothing important, but I understand what Kimm is trying to say: it isn't our death that matters, but the span of our lives. Even if our lives are cut short by one thing or another (there are far too many possibilities), what matters most is what we did with that life.
I think we're foolish to dwell on death the way we do. Death is coming, yes; everything is in the process of dying. It's depressing and overwhelming, but true. I think our problem (if it's even a problem at all) is that we only KNOW life. I mean, we know it as much as something unpredictable and illogical, but we enjoy LIVING.
I keep thinking about how many characters in literature seem to have this same fascination with death and dying. Think of Hamlet and Frankenstein. Voldemort. Classics and modern literature alike, characters frequently seem preoccupied with death-- or how to avoid it. How to become immortal in some way. Immortality is our poison, our addiction: the idea of living forever. Maybe it is because we think immortality is the same as power, or maybe we are just obsessed with the idea that we can avoid the Great Perhaps of death. (Looking for Alaska reference)
Maybe when we think about death, we think of how we aren't ready for death. What if we're NEVER ready? What then? Will we be okay with letting go of life?
I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing-- to be frightened by death. I think the reason it's so present in literature is because we can all relate; we know what it is like to think about it and to want to avoid it or to wonder about the value of our own lives. It's humbling and it's terrifying, but it reminds us to live-- to seek out whatever it is in life that will make us feel like our time here is valuable. One day we will seek a Great Perhaps, even if we're reluctant. But life is our first adventure.
Once again, I deviated from my point. I'm getting really bad about that...
(On the bright side, it's sort of relevant to the theme of character! :) )
A demain!
-Aly
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