I would like to start off by saying I had pretty good time doing the “movie thing”. I spent yesterday afternoon taking pictures for the project with my good friend, Pat. You will find him in the final slide, down by the water’s edge. I had to tell him to pull his pants up for the shot because he had a “little plumber” showing, but don’t let that fool you… he came up with the great idea to pour water in the “feel good” on the sand to make them stand out more in the shot. So, I guess you could call him a set manager more than a plumber.
We drove around what seemed like forever looking for the perfect “fork in the road” photo opportunity (slide 19, I believe). Where are those things when you need one?? We finally ran into our fine and dandy just outside of Lake Alvin. As I was standing on top of my car to get a crippled bird’s eye view, this snack delivery truck drove by me. I wasn’t going to snap the shot while he was there, but when I saw how cool it looked in the lens, I quick took it. It was complete luck – there is never a soul on that road and I would never bet my Starbuck’s that a snack truck delivery guy would show up and make my picture say something I couldn’t say without him.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Decisions, decisions....
Over the last couple of days, I have been tormented by the choice of whether to write a 4-6 page essay or do an interpretive poetry video. My friend made a picture video a couple of weeks ago that touched my heart; he also paid $14 for it. I thought it was so creative and endearing but the price?? What a coincidence to discover through Intro to Lit that an interpretation of poetry can be expressed in a similar fashion.
I love the idea of making a video that marries my interpretation of a poem (or any work for that matter) with pictures, music and voice over, but just how does one go about deciding what pictures tell “it” best?? I gave this question deep consideration. Professor Murphy mentioned that just as in a music video, the images do not have to be a picture of exactly what’s on the line. Do I play the images to fit the sound that the author intended? Do I concern myself with how he would want me to interpret this or do I personalize it to fit what I see in my mind? Even if I wanted to remain true to the author’s era or intent, how could I verify that is what he had in mind without speaking to him personally? Asking these questions is making me entirely change my mind on which poem I will interpret.
This will be an interesting project; one that I am sure I will learn a lot from – if I can stir up the Creative Genius inside and force her to create outside of her comfortable box.
I love the idea of making a video that marries my interpretation of a poem (or any work for that matter) with pictures, music and voice over, but just how does one go about deciding what pictures tell “it” best?? I gave this question deep consideration. Professor Murphy mentioned that just as in a music video, the images do not have to be a picture of exactly what’s on the line. Do I play the images to fit the sound that the author intended? Do I concern myself with how he would want me to interpret this or do I personalize it to fit what I see in my mind? Even if I wanted to remain true to the author’s era or intent, how could I verify that is what he had in mind without speaking to him personally? Asking these questions is making me entirely change my mind on which poem I will interpret.
This will be an interesting project; one that I am sure I will learn a lot from – if I can stir up the Creative Genius inside and force her to create outside of her comfortable box.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
"To Paint a Water Lily" by Ted Hughes
The true artist in “To Pain a Water Lily” is Ted Hughes. The descriptive language he used was so interactive that I have no choice but to say, “please don’t quit your day job.” The poem begins with a description of the lily leaves on the pond, “Roofs the pond’ chamber…” (2) makes me feel they are actually doing work!
“The flies furious arena: study” (3) – does he mean study the sound of them with your ears or the flies study in their arena? Either way, I the painting is making its way to reality. He wastes no time at all incorporating sound to tweak the senses, “And death-cries everywhere hereabouts” (10). By this time, I feel I am in the middle of a secluded forest with so much happening around me.
Of course he wouldn’t leave out the nemesis: “Prehistoric bedragonned times Crawl that darkness with Latin names Have evolved no improvements there, Jaws for heads, the set stare” (17-20) gives the image of the baddest crocodile in the land.
This poem was a treat, and more than a lesson in how to play words to mean more than what you expect them to. As for Hughes, I think the painting wouldn’t do his poem justice.
“The flies furious arena: study” (3) – does he mean study the sound of them with your ears or the flies study in their arena? Either way, I the painting is making its way to reality. He wastes no time at all incorporating sound to tweak the senses, “And death-cries everywhere hereabouts” (10). By this time, I feel I am in the middle of a secluded forest with so much happening around me.
Of course he wouldn’t leave out the nemesis: “Prehistoric bedragonned times Crawl that darkness with Latin names Have evolved no improvements there, Jaws for heads, the set stare” (17-20) gives the image of the baddest crocodile in the land.
This poem was a treat, and more than a lesson in how to play words to mean more than what you expect them to. As for Hughes, I think the painting wouldn’t do his poem justice.
"Morning" Billy Collins
I chose to write about this poem because of its refreshing change of pace. The speaker is so excited about getting out of bed and starting the morning that it made me smile at my own past, reminiscing on the days when I had no responsibilities but to enjoy my morning jo and to “catch up “ with friends, the order of my home and projects that brought me peace. Though when I read this poem, it was the middle of the night and I was overwhelmed with responsibilities, the tone brought me immediately to an emotion of happiness – as if I were there instead.
“But mostly buzzing around the house on espresso” (line 12) made me laugh because my happy mornings always have a wonderfully flavored coffee (not small) to get the day started right.
“Dictionary and atlas on the rug, the typewriter waiting for the key of the head” (line 13-14) gave me a sense of limitless possibilities waiting for me in each day. Of course, when the day is almost over, there is disappointment (especially if it is the only day off that week) that the hours are creeping away.
Being a person who adores new beginnings, I cherish this little piece. And there is nothing that makes you cherish a new beginning more than describing the thing that precedes it. “Why do we bother…” (line 1), “The swale of the afternoon, the sudden dip into evening” (line 1-2) were the lines that opened the poem. They combined with stanza 2 to form a question (the only question in the poem) that set up a melancholy mood only to surprise you with the sudden shift of alertness and happiness in line 6: “This is the best- (sounds childlike) throwing off the light covers”. It made me want to “just wake up” myself.
“But mostly buzzing around the house on espresso” (line 12) made me laugh because my happy mornings always have a wonderfully flavored coffee (not small) to get the day started right.
“Dictionary and atlas on the rug, the typewriter waiting for the key of the head” (line 13-14) gave me a sense of limitless possibilities waiting for me in each day. Of course, when the day is almost over, there is disappointment (especially if it is the only day off that week) that the hours are creeping away.
Being a person who adores new beginnings, I cherish this little piece. And there is nothing that makes you cherish a new beginning more than describing the thing that precedes it. “Why do we bother…” (line 1), “The swale of the afternoon, the sudden dip into evening” (line 1-2) were the lines that opened the poem. They combined with stanza 2 to form a question (the only question in the poem) that set up a melancholy mood only to surprise you with the sudden shift of alertness and happiness in line 6: “This is the best- (sounds childlike) throwing off the light covers”. It made me want to “just wake up” myself.
"Hanging Fire" by Audre Lorde
The speaker of this poem is in high need of some reassurance from her mother. The poem expresses her aloneness on this unstable road of puberty while hinting at her consideration of suicide: “There is nothing I want to do and too much that has been done” (line 19-21). It appears that she can’t picture her future because it is so overwhelming for her in this time yet each stanza she attempts to see herself living longer: “What if I die before morning” (line 8-9), “suppose I die before graduation” (line 15), “will I live long enough to grow up” (line 32-33).
If there were an adult there for her, she would be told that these feelings are normal and that she will get thru it; instead, being alone likely adds to the pressure she feels. The speaker makes references to both immediate problems and all encompassing problems but she is unable to discern between the two: “I have nothing to wear tomorrow will I live long enough to grow up” (line 31-33) “The boy I cannot live without (typical of pubescent love spells) still sucks his thumb in secret” (line 3-5) It’s possible she has considered her boyfriend as her rescue from her situation but gets very little comfort from it since he is only a kid himself.
Every question she asks, which are never ending, (evidenced by no question marks signaling the end of the any question as well as that every stanza is a single run-on sentence) falls upon no one's ears but her own; a fact, I am sure, she wishes to escape.
If there were an adult there for her, she would be told that these feelings are normal and that she will get thru it; instead, being alone likely adds to the pressure she feels. The speaker makes references to both immediate problems and all encompassing problems but she is unable to discern between the two: “I have nothing to wear tomorrow will I live long enough to grow up” (line 31-33) “The boy I cannot live without (typical of pubescent love spells) still sucks his thumb in secret” (line 3-5) It’s possible she has considered her boyfriend as her rescue from her situation but gets very little comfort from it since he is only a kid himself.
Every question she asks, which are never ending, (evidenced by no question marks signaling the end of the any question as well as that every stanza is a single run-on sentence) falls upon no one's ears but her own; a fact, I am sure, she wishes to escape.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
"Woodchucks" by Maxine Kumin
At first glance, I thought I was reading about a farmer failing at clearing out a rodent problem in one of his barns: “The knockout bomb from the Feed and Grain Exchange” (line 2). Not much else appeared to be developing in the second stanza, although my suspicions were anxiously starting to mount (“Gassing” line 1, “cyanide” line 8). The “rebellion” faded quickly by the 3rd; my emotions were boiling, my senses on overload. Everything I read up to that point was aggressively confirmed, and as much as I hated what I was reading, I wanted to know if anyone got away.
The narrator describes the escalation of his methods (and emotions) in assisting his fellow Germans in the occupation efforts during the holocaust of WWII. The choice to use woodchucks, another word for groundhog, to symbolize the Jewish people carried an array of intense suggestions, not limited to the obvious (Jewish associations with pork, rodents, land-hogs, people referred to as animals).
But I can not think of a way that true hatred be more perfectly portrayed than in the description of the exhilaration one race feels toward the killing, even with bare hand, of another: “O one-two-three the murderer inside me rose up hard,” (line 23), “I dream I sing along the barrel in my sleep.” (line 27-8)
The power of this poem forced me to look into a single mind propelled by that era. Regardless of how I feel about the poem, I can not deny the emotion of its accuracy.
The narrator describes the escalation of his methods (and emotions) in assisting his fellow Germans in the occupation efforts during the holocaust of WWII. The choice to use woodchucks, another word for groundhog, to symbolize the Jewish people carried an array of intense suggestions, not limited to the obvious (Jewish associations with pork, rodents, land-hogs, people referred to as animals).
But I can not think of a way that true hatred be more perfectly portrayed than in the description of the exhilaration one race feels toward the killing, even with bare hand, of another: “O one-two-three the murderer inside me rose up hard,” (line 23), “I dream I sing along the barrel in my sleep.” (line 27-8)
The power of this poem forced me to look into a single mind propelled by that era. Regardless of how I feel about the poem, I can not deny the emotion of its accuracy.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
6/3/09 "The Lame Shall Enter First" by Flannery O'Conner
Flannery O’Conner ramps the intensity in this dramatic irony involving a widowed man who maladaptively copes with the loss of his wife by immersing himself in the salvation of a troubled 14yr old. Though you’d never guess by his dialect, the boy possesses an impressive 140 IQ which lends to a “universe” of possibilities that the widower is obsessively determined to make the teen aware of. The name Sheppard, not so strangely resembling “Shepherd”, proves to be a disturbing tag for the adult who is totally incapable of caring for his 10yr old in the presence (or absence) of his humanitarian project, Johnson.
Receiving an open invitation (in the form of a key to the front door – with no regard to his history of vandalism), Johnson shows up just as Norton begins to sense his own isolation. Sheppard pushes his son continually further into the shadows aloneness (…”like a fugitive from Sheppard’s kindness” p385, par 163), a place so far away that the only one who can reach him is the Johnson that Sheppard is trying to save. The constant search for approval that Sheppard seeks from Johnson gives this Masterful Manipulator of Persons Unaware a world of power that he can not help but indulge in (impervious to those as unaware as Sheppard). “Sheppard was not deceived. Secretly [Johnson] was learning what he wanted him to learn – that his benefactor was impervious to insult and that there were no cracks in his armor of kindness and patience…” (p386, par 164) Norton gives up his hope, submitting to the power that has overtaken his father.
The psychological banter between Sheppard and Johnson repeatedly proves not only who had control of the moment but who doesn’t have control over his life. Sheppard attempts to stand his ground by telling Johnson he is mortally confused and doesn’t have to use his lame foot as an excuse. But Johnson’s last words, “The lame’ll carry off the prey!” (p399, par 404) echo deep into the house, long after Sheppard is delivered from him. Being the only one to take notice of Norton’s search for the truth in what happened to his mother after her passing, Johnson, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, already directed Norton to his own salvation.
Receiving an open invitation (in the form of a key to the front door – with no regard to his history of vandalism), Johnson shows up just as Norton begins to sense his own isolation. Sheppard pushes his son continually further into the shadows aloneness (…”like a fugitive from Sheppard’s kindness” p385, par 163), a place so far away that the only one who can reach him is the Johnson that Sheppard is trying to save. The constant search for approval that Sheppard seeks from Johnson gives this Masterful Manipulator of Persons Unaware a world of power that he can not help but indulge in (impervious to those as unaware as Sheppard). “Sheppard was not deceived. Secretly [Johnson] was learning what he wanted him to learn – that his benefactor was impervious to insult and that there were no cracks in his armor of kindness and patience…” (p386, par 164) Norton gives up his hope, submitting to the power that has overtaken his father.
The psychological banter between Sheppard and Johnson repeatedly proves not only who had control of the moment but who doesn’t have control over his life. Sheppard attempts to stand his ground by telling Johnson he is mortally confused and doesn’t have to use his lame foot as an excuse. But Johnson’s last words, “The lame’ll carry off the prey!” (p399, par 404) echo deep into the house, long after Sheppard is delivered from him. Being the only one to take notice of Norton’s search for the truth in what happened to his mother after her passing, Johnson, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, already directed Norton to his own salvation.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)