There is something about home that I have a hard time describing. It's a feeling that no other place seems to give me. I would be lying if I said being at school makes me unhappy but, being home makes me happy. There is just things about home that school can never really have. Not too be confused, my home is not my house. Though my house is conveniently located at my home. It's hard to explain but, I can't help but smile when I'm here. When I'm home, even though it's not the most ideal place to live, is my ideal my ideal place to live.
I remember when my friends brought me back from school for winter break. They told me that they actually saw a physical difference in my mood from school too home.They said they could see a happier me that I apparently was not showing at school. They also were excited to see me drive. At school most who know me, know that I walk everywhere at any time. Whether it is to class,a friend's place,into town, whether it is freezing, snowing, raining, or whether it is 3 in the morning, 11 at night, or 6:27 am I'am walk. So when I started to drive at home they actually took pictures of me. Its funny how such a basic and mundane thing, driving, can turn into such a novelty that it is actually considered an accomplishment to see me drive.
It would be too easy and wrong too say that my family( this includes friends because they are family ) is the reason this is home and why I feel so good. I have a family down at school and they are beautiful. I'm not going to compare people up here with down there because that would be wrong. Seeing the family back home is an odd sensation because it is a mix of novelty, I haven't seen them in a long time, and an old familiarity that allows me to pass out on their couch without thinking twice. If you don't already know, I'm one to live in the past. My nectar is nostalgia and I bask in it whenever I get the chance. Home has a built in nostalgic factor that simply makes almost anything that happens here better. Coming home is like walking into a warm embrace that you know will always be there waiting.
I came home on a Saturday night. My brother and I drove through a lot of rain, stopped to visit some friends, and then drove through some more rain. Once back I got to say hi to mom and pops which was cool. Later I visited some friends. That night... morning I was laying in my own bed, so weird not being a couch, when I realized that my computer could be place on my desk next to my bed. Other words, I could lay in bed and be on the computer at the same time. Awesome. But after a few hours I noticed a storm had found me again. I decided to close my computer and listen to the storm. The soft pitter patter of the rain rolling across the house was soothing. As time passed the rain fell harder but would periodically dip back to a soft hum. Thunder punctuated the lovely sheet of rain with deep resonating echos that blended ever so wonderfully with the rain. Never too loud to take away from the rain, just a nice pinch of spice that lifted me like a wave and slowly brought me back into the ocean. It was a perfect way to begin my spring break. And while it's still relitavily fresh; The storm was a soft cradle song that would bring me into dream world though I would make the argument that coming home is a dream in of its self.
The next day I went to my friends house with a shop-vac. His basement partely flooded from the mornings storm (maybe it wasn't as pleasant as I rememberd it). So we sucked water out of the carpets and brushed water into a drain for a few hours and you know what? I was really enjoyed myself. What was infact tedious manul labor was, too me, one hell of a time. I can't really describe why I was having such a good time but its was beautiful. This also apllies to my mother yelling at me to get a hair cut and her attempting to wake me up before 12. Though they are extremly annoying and bothersome, there is something about them that make them ok. I don't like or really miss being yelled at but, its someting that has to be for it too be home.
Another great hope for me this break is the prospect of seeing a few of my friends that I haven't seen in a year, or in some cases a few years. Though I cherish seeing all my friends and try not too make any of them more important than the rest, seeing one of these people will be really rewarding. It's like seeing a relitave you were close too but haven't seen in a long time. I hope to see these people and remind them that it doesn't matter that I have't seen them in a long time, they will always be in my family. I know alot of what I'm writing probably sounds cheesey but I don't care. Family is everything and I truly miss them. They will, in esscene, be coming home.
I decided not to write this at the end of my break becasue I don't nessecarily want this blog to be a journal. I'm writing now because I think that this has more feeling and thought behind it than just a report of break. That and it is fresher in my mind. I do hope to see my good friends and just be home. It is beautiful when I don't have to do anything but there is things to do if I want to. For all my family back at school, I'll see you soon. I hope anyone who read this can think or feel what home is too you. Like I said, your house isn't your home, though in my case it is closely tied. Or if you got nothing from this, I'm sorry. That and for any bad English. So everyone, take care and enjoy your spring break whenever it may be. Stay safe.
P.S. Fire Monkey Dave was actaully in MY hosue!
~Love~
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Dan+Chinese+English= 不好
It's that time again where I take another nonalcoholic drunken swing at this nifty thing called Chinese. To start off were going to attempt some sentence making with the aid of a Chinese character book (thank you 林老师）Here we go!
1. 我晚上比她。
2。学校不是不图书馆吗？
3。她吃四鹿！
4。我有林老师与聿。
5。小高丢失他越排箫。
Wasn't that fun? Well let me translate or rather tell you what I was trying to say.
1. At night I confronted her.
2. The school has a library?
3.She ate 4 deer!
4.I have lin Lao Shi's paintbrush.
5.Xiao Gao lost his panpipes.
Fun fun! As it is probably evident I'm still rather weak in my Chinese grammar but I hoping that, do too recent events ,this will changed. What recent events you ask but don't really care? Well the last Chinese test I took was... 不好. Very 不好. But thanks too the amazing teacher I'm seeing a way too climb out of this hole. It actually reminded me of the time I went to China Town in Chicago last semester. I was so completely overwhelmed it was almost scary. Just like this test. But from this complete destruction of my confidence I found myself striving forward with renewed vigor in hopes of conquering or at least bettering myself in the hopes of attaining a higher knowledge. Some times a swift kick to the crotch is in necessary. It's not pleasant but it is important. Once I catch my breath and stand back up I hope to learn from my mistakes and strive forward.
Today's topic of Chinese culture that I'm going to take a peak at is Character writing. To try and cover it all is a fools game so I'll just be hitting a few things that have cropped up recently. One of my favorite part s of learning the Chinese language is the Chinese characters. This is also one of the most frustrating and difficult parts as well. What I love about it so much is the combination of art and writing. Two of my favorite things. Each character is different though they share similar parts. Though this sounds helpful it can be extremely confusing especially when there is only a very small variation is different or when the same characters are used but have completely different meanings. An example is the xiōng 兄 and 只. xiōng means brother while tīng has 22 different strokes 聽 . The simplified version only has 7 different strokes听 . liàng traditional 亮 becomes 亮. The argument of which should be used, traditional or simplified, is a huge battle that I don't fully understand. I will say this though, I found that when writing the characters, I actually prefer the traditional over simplified even though there is more strokes to remember. I find that it is easier and flows better when there is more strokes (most of the time) Also when the characters are simplified, they begin to look like other characters. Though the traditional may have more, they are more unique and can be more easily identified. Though, like in the tīng example, sometimes simplified is better. Not only is traditional easier to remember and has a better flow, I think in general they are much more asteticlly pleasing. An example is yuè or music. Traditional 樂 Simplified 乐 .
I know that I'm extremely young into the world of Chinese characters and I don't fully understand both sides. My opinions might change but these are what they are now. As this is an extremely interesting and enjoyable subject I will probably talk about this subject after I had a little time to become better informed and well versed in it. I will leave with this one last thought. The traditional character for love or ài is 愛 and the simplified version is 爱 . I know its real small and most probably don't understand so I will point it out. The simplified version takes the heart xīn 心 out. Other words, the heart of love has been taken out. Thanks for reading everyone, take care and stay safe. zàijiàn
p.s. due too editing problems I had to change all the font red. Sorry if that bothers you.
~Love~
1. 我晚上比她。
2。学校不是不图书馆吗？
3。她吃四鹿！
4。我有林老师与聿。
5。小高丢失他越排箫。
Wasn't that fun? Well let me translate or rather tell you what I was trying to say.
1. At night I confronted her.
2. The school has a library?
3.She ate 4 deer!
4.I have lin Lao Shi's paintbrush.
5.Xiao Gao lost his panpipes.
Fun fun! As it is probably evident I'm still rather weak in my Chinese grammar but I hoping that, do too recent events ,this will changed. What recent events you ask but don't really care? Well the last Chinese test I took was... 不好. Very 不好. But thanks too the amazing teacher I'm seeing a way too climb out of this hole. It actually reminded me of the time I went to China Town in Chicago last semester. I was so completely overwhelmed it was almost scary. Just like this test. But from this complete destruction of my confidence I found myself striving forward with renewed vigor in hopes of conquering or at least bettering myself in the hopes of attaining a higher knowledge. Some times a swift kick to the crotch is in necessary. It's not pleasant but it is important. Once I catch my breath and stand back up I hope to learn from my mistakes and strive forward.
Today's topic of Chinese culture that I'm going to take a peak at is Character writing. To try and cover it all is a fools game so I'll just be hitting a few things that have cropped up recently. One of my favorite part s of learning the Chinese language is the Chinese characters. This is also one of the most frustrating and difficult parts as well. What I love about it so much is the combination of art and writing. Two of my favorite things. Each character is different though they share similar parts. Though this sounds helpful it can be extremely confusing especially when there is only a very small variation is different or when the same characters are used but have completely different meanings. An example is the xiōng 兄 and 只. xiōng means brother while tīng has 22 different strokes 聽 . The simplified version only has 7 different strokes听 . liàng traditional 亮 becomes 亮. The argument of which should be used, traditional or simplified, is a huge battle that I don't fully understand. I will say this though, I found that when writing the characters, I actually prefer the traditional over simplified even though there is more strokes to remember. I find that it is easier and flows better when there is more strokes (most of the time) Also when the characters are simplified, they begin to look like other characters. Though the traditional may have more, they are more unique and can be more easily identified. Though, like in the tīng example, sometimes simplified is better. Not only is traditional easier to remember and has a better flow, I think in general they are much more asteticlly pleasing. An example is yuè or music. Traditional 樂 Simplified 乐 .
I know that I'm extremely young into the world of Chinese characters and I don't fully understand both sides. My opinions might change but these are what they are now. As this is an extremely interesting and enjoyable subject I will probably talk about this subject after I had a little time to become better informed and well versed in it. I will leave with this one last thought. The traditional character for love or ài is 愛 and the simplified version is 爱 . I know its real small and most probably don't understand so I will point it out. The simplified version takes the heart xīn 心 out. Other words, the heart of love has been taken out. Thanks for reading everyone, take care and stay safe. zàijiàn
p.s. due too editing problems I had to change all the font red. Sorry if that bothers you.
~Love~
Monday, March 2, 2009
A Lullaby Encore
Alright we’re back! That’s right we. As in me and Steve or rather Steve and I. Yeah for all of you who don’t know who Steve is....good. If you really want to know come and talk to me and I’ll try(ha) to tell you. But just so there is no real confusion, Steve really isn’t a real person(ha). With Steve aside, welcome to another addition to this ..... what would be an appropriate adjective to go in front of the word blog? Like meandering, stupid, pointless, witty, insightful, boring, meat cleaving, eye candy (don’t think this is an adjective but I still like it) could all well describe this blog. How about all encompassing? Na that’s not true. Maybe ... just blog. My blog. Our Blog. Your blog...... right.
As many of you ( all 4 or 5) have probably have heard me talking about through my countless plugs (if you haven’t or even if you have, peruse the rest of my blog for some more info), my friend/teacher/co-conspirer in art theft/ slasher/ professor Stacy Lynn Brown had another reading of her book length poem “Cradle Song” here at S.I.U.E tonight.....errr last night. This time she was a special guest of the “Live Nude Girl In The Devil’s Territory” book tour. She threw down some hot verses to kick off the whole shindig. Needless to say it was enjoyable. She read from “Cradle Song” which, after reading it three times myself, was a breath of fresh air to hear it in “THE” voice of the book rather than the voice in my head. Don’t get me wrong, I highly enjoy the voice(s) in my head but it is good to hear outside voices as well. Anyways, like before, I decided to draw a picture based off of what I was feeling based off of what I was hearing. I find that this helps me pay attention. I’ll show the picture after I’m done writing about the night. It was a short read but really enjoyable.
The next reader was Kyle Minor. This cat was interesting to say the least. I’m not sure how I can really describe what his reading was like but I can say he defiantly paints with his words. Very strong and moving, I had no trouble drawing with him and his story. The story was cynical in the kind of way that, like after you have your 6th chocolate doughnut you say, “I want another one,” yeah like that. I wanted another one. It was dark but not in a dark way. If you understand that I applaud you.
The last reader was Kathleen Rooney and she started off by taking our picture. It may or may not make it onto her blog, unfortunately I didn’t get the name of that blog or I would have linked it, but its good too know I’ve been immortalized in the writing world (even if it’s not for writing anything) Then we had a room vote for too see where our reader would begin. We found our decision in the middle. That is in the middle of the story. The story told of a young women modeling nude for a photographer. Again we had another extremely polished story/reader and it was like a live book on tape. Funny and witty, the story played across my mind like a movie I might see while standing in a waiting room of a writers guild who wanted their collection of Sestinas back that I had never taken in the first place so they tried to send me home but I stayed anyways because the movie was well worth the accusations and the trip up the 47 flights of stairs that it had taken me to get too this particular waiting room. Yeah it was like that.
The picture I drew turned out alright I guess. Interesting too me was that I drew 3 main figures. I don’t know why but each reader had a figure and a surrounding. Don’t get me wrong, these our not portraits of the readers just that came from my mind as they were reading. Stacy Lynn Brown’s drawing is the top left, Kyle Minor is the middle right, and Kathleen Rooney is the bottom left. Here it is.
If you looked closely at the top you can see the three words, “Homicidal Homophobic Homophones”. (You’ll find out soon if you haven’t already that I have a thing for alliterations) This came to me right before I had come to the event. I was taking a shower and I was playing around with words when it hit me. They probably will be used in a later poem or so I hope. I did come up with another neat one but I quickly learned that one of the words I was using was not really a word. This put a damper on that idea but I can say one of the real words was condescending. I’ll let you figure out which made up word I use.
There is reason why I chose to title this blog “A Lullaby Encore”. Though not exactly an encore, my friend/professor/boating enthusiast Stacy Lynn Brown had the chance to read “Cradle Song” again and I was lucky enough to be able to go too this reading as well. A cradle song is more or less ( too my understanding) a lullaby and if one were to have an encore of a lullaby it would probably be shorter and quieter than the first lullaby. Her reading tonight was shorter than when she read on her own but, like a lullaby, it was the all important set up for the world of dreams. It was a nice lullaby followed my two nice ( if not bizarre) dreams. Thank you.
Another note on “Cradle Song”, if you read my earlier blog you would have known that I had tried something brand new when reading “Cradle Song”. I turned off my head phones and just let the poem itself paint a world for me. The next time I read it I did the same. At the reading I had decided to honor/commemorate/ tribute (or whatever the word is) “Cradle Song” and my friend/teacher/kite expert/ Mrs. Stacy Lynn Brown. I wanted to do something cool and something that had meaning. Something that was unique that could stand alone as well as stand for something else. I decided that I was going to paint a picture purely based off how I felt after reading the book. I read the book in its entirety and then went to work. I took over an hour or so which, with spray paint, is kind of long. This picture was in a way a small return to art as I hadn’t done any art outside of class in months. At first I wasn’t the happiest with it but it grew on me. The more I looked at it the more it showed itself to me (even though I’m the one who painted it). I think my favorite part of the painting was that it was strictly “Cradle Song”. But instead of confusing/ boring you with odd details I’ll just show you a few pics of it. Keeping with a “Cradle Song” feel it was titled, “Cradle Song Interpretation #11" (though it would have been oddly fitting if I didn’t title it either). Here you go.
Well I got to give her the picture last night and she seemed to like it. If not, and as I tell everyone else you I give a painting, at least you scored a free canvas. It was cool seeing her again and all of the other readers. It has reinforced this idea that was first started when I went to the first “Cradle Song” reading. It is the idea of stepping away from my work and seeing it as a presentation piece. Other words, stop only thinking about the content but how one would receive it. As I’m still a young toddler in the writing world, I’m blind to many of the deeper and more intricate layers of writing. Slowly I’m beginning to see more and more each day. I’ve always strictly worried about the content but not necessarily how that content was delivered. I’ve almost always written for myself but now I’m beginning to change. After watching others read I’ve noticed that I have been missing out on a whole aspect of writing. An example is when I read something of mine in class. I got comments that my micro story had a powerful shift when I read it opposed to when they read it themselves. I was able convey much more of my meaning by reading it then in my words alone. I learned that The full impact of what I was saying was only convayed through “telling” and not “showing”. Though not your typical “showing” “telling” still the same message. If you are confused I’m not saying I should read out loud but rather I should think about constructing my pieces so that it grasps others as it grasps me. I’m not sure if I can change anything in my writing to address this ( or even if I want to) but at least I’m aware of this new perspective of my writing.
So to wrap it all up I’d like to say thank you for everyone who read last night, everyone who is reading this now, and everyone in general. I apologize as always for my atrocious grammar and wish you not too throw heavy objects at me. I really appreciate you reading so stay tuned and you might me rewarded. Now I’m going to write about The Tooth Fairy and The Easter Bunny. Take care everyone and stay safe. Zia Jian!
~Love~
As many of you ( all 4 or 5) have probably have heard me talking about through my countless plugs (if you haven’t or even if you have, peruse the rest of my blog for some more info), my friend/teacher/co-conspirer in art theft/ slasher/ professor Stacy Lynn Brown had another reading of her book length poem “Cradle Song” here at S.I.U.E tonight.....errr last night. This time she was a special guest of the “Live Nude Girl In The Devil’s Territory” book tour. She threw down some hot verses to kick off the whole shindig. Needless to say it was enjoyable. She read from “Cradle Song” which, after reading it three times myself, was a breath of fresh air to hear it in “THE” voice of the book rather than the voice in my head. Don’t get me wrong, I highly enjoy the voice(s) in my head but it is good to hear outside voices as well. Anyways, like before, I decided to draw a picture based off of what I was feeling based off of what I was hearing. I find that this helps me pay attention. I’ll show the picture after I’m done writing about the night. It was a short read but really enjoyable.
The next reader was Kyle Minor. This cat was interesting to say the least. I’m not sure how I can really describe what his reading was like but I can say he defiantly paints with his words. Very strong and moving, I had no trouble drawing with him and his story. The story was cynical in the kind of way that, like after you have your 6th chocolate doughnut you say, “I want another one,” yeah like that. I wanted another one. It was dark but not in a dark way. If you understand that I applaud you.
The last reader was Kathleen Rooney and she started off by taking our picture. It may or may not make it onto her blog, unfortunately I didn’t get the name of that blog or I would have linked it, but its good too know I’ve been immortalized in the writing world (even if it’s not for writing anything) Then we had a room vote for too see where our reader would begin. We found our decision in the middle. That is in the middle of the story. The story told of a young women modeling nude for a photographer. Again we had another extremely polished story/reader and it was like a live book on tape. Funny and witty, the story played across my mind like a movie I might see while standing in a waiting room of a writers guild who wanted their collection of Sestinas back that I had never taken in the first place so they tried to send me home but I stayed anyways because the movie was well worth the accusations and the trip up the 47 flights of stairs that it had taken me to get too this particular waiting room. Yeah it was like that.
The picture I drew turned out alright I guess. Interesting too me was that I drew 3 main figures. I don’t know why but each reader had a figure and a surrounding. Don’t get me wrong, these our not portraits of the readers just that came from my mind as they were reading. Stacy Lynn Brown’s drawing is the top left, Kyle Minor is the middle right, and Kathleen Rooney is the bottom left. Here it is.
If you looked closely at the top you can see the three words, “Homicidal Homophobic Homophones”. (You’ll find out soon if you haven’t already that I have a thing for alliterations) This came to me right before I had come to the event. I was taking a shower and I was playing around with words when it hit me. They probably will be used in a later poem or so I hope. I did come up with another neat one but I quickly learned that one of the words I was using was not really a word. This put a damper on that idea but I can say one of the real words was condescending. I’ll let you figure out which made up word I use.
There is reason why I chose to title this blog “A Lullaby Encore”. Though not exactly an encore, my friend/professor/boating enthusiast Stacy Lynn Brown had the chance to read “Cradle Song” again and I was lucky enough to be able to go too this reading as well. A cradle song is more or less ( too my understanding) a lullaby and if one were to have an encore of a lullaby it would probably be shorter and quieter than the first lullaby. Her reading tonight was shorter than when she read on her own but, like a lullaby, it was the all important set up for the world of dreams. It was a nice lullaby followed my two nice ( if not bizarre) dreams. Thank you.
Another note on “Cradle Song”, if you read my earlier blog you would have known that I had tried something brand new when reading “Cradle Song”. I turned off my head phones and just let the poem itself paint a world for me. The next time I read it I did the same. At the reading I had decided to honor/commemorate/ tribute (or whatever the word is) “Cradle Song” and my friend/teacher/kite expert/ Mrs. Stacy Lynn Brown. I wanted to do something cool and something that had meaning. Something that was unique that could stand alone as well as stand for something else. I decided that I was going to paint a picture purely based off how I felt after reading the book. I read the book in its entirety and then went to work. I took over an hour or so which, with spray paint, is kind of long. This picture was in a way a small return to art as I hadn’t done any art outside of class in months. At first I wasn’t the happiest with it but it grew on me. The more I looked at it the more it showed itself to me (even though I’m the one who painted it). I think my favorite part of the painting was that it was strictly “Cradle Song”. But instead of confusing/ boring you with odd details I’ll just show you a few pics of it. Keeping with a “Cradle Song” feel it was titled, “Cradle Song Interpretation #11" (though it would have been oddly fitting if I didn’t title it either). Here you go.
Well I got to give her the picture last night and she seemed to like it. If not, and as I tell everyone else you I give a painting, at least you scored a free canvas. It was cool seeing her again and all of the other readers. It has reinforced this idea that was first started when I went to the first “Cradle Song” reading. It is the idea of stepping away from my work and seeing it as a presentation piece. Other words, stop only thinking about the content but how one would receive it. As I’m still a young toddler in the writing world, I’m blind to many of the deeper and more intricate layers of writing. Slowly I’m beginning to see more and more each day. I’ve always strictly worried about the content but not necessarily how that content was delivered. I’ve almost always written for myself but now I’m beginning to change. After watching others read I’ve noticed that I have been missing out on a whole aspect of writing. An example is when I read something of mine in class. I got comments that my micro story had a powerful shift when I read it opposed to when they read it themselves. I was able convey much more of my meaning by reading it then in my words alone. I learned that The full impact of what I was saying was only convayed through “telling” and not “showing”. Though not your typical “showing” “telling” still the same message. If you are confused I’m not saying I should read out loud but rather I should think about constructing my pieces so that it grasps others as it grasps me. I’m not sure if I can change anything in my writing to address this ( or even if I want to) but at least I’m aware of this new perspective of my writing.
So to wrap it all up I’d like to say thank you for everyone who read last night, everyone who is reading this now, and everyone in general. I apologize as always for my atrocious grammar and wish you not too throw heavy objects at me. I really appreciate you reading so stay tuned and you might me rewarded. Now I’m going to write about The Tooth Fairy and The Easter Bunny. Take care everyone and stay safe. Zia Jian!
~Love~
Saturday, February 28, 2009
In the words of George Carlin,"I'm a balloon guy"
Well hello everyone. It has been awhile since my last post so I thought I was due to write something. This post will be small but something bigger is soon to come. Today I went too Eden Nursing home with my brothers from A.P.O. We were volunteering to help with the Alzheimer's ward. Today we got too play with Balloons!
Circled around a big screen T.V. was around 11 of some of the sweetest old people you could find. Sure not all of them were awake but most were. Though the movie, "Mrs. Doubtfire" was on, no one seemed to notice. The entertainment for the day was two colorful balloons and some kind of squishy toys. Now the scary thing was that after I joined in playing I didn't know who was having a better time, me or the old people I was playing with. Really I was having a blast. So much so I almost pulled my right hamstring. It was kind of sad because all of the old ladies were moving quite well for their advanced age and I was filling tightness after five minutes of play.
My group and I were there for about 2 hours and the entire time we just played with balloons with an occasional dance or two. Normally it's not the greatest idea to think that these people are reverting back to a kids mentality but in some instances it is. The fact that a balloon can keep them busy, entertained, and happy is actually really cool. When we grow older we loose innocents in many ways. We start to see that everything won't end up ok, we noticed that everyone is not the same as we are, and we start to see the world in a much bigger and deeper way. No longer can a Balloon hold our attention for long, we need something more stimulating or more thought provoking to keep our attention than preventing the balloon from hitting the ground. When we were kids we didn't notice what the other kid looked like or what was going on around us. Neither did we really care. When we are having fun that's all that mattered. Old and young folks couldn't care less about anything going on as long as they got a balloon. They don't care about the big screen T.V., no need for video games,don't need to go out, and need no outside stimulus as some fuel for fun except maybe another person. We get so wrapped up in our own world that sometimes we forget just how cool and fun a balloon is. I took a step out of my daily life and just marveled at the beauty of the whole thing.
Now I've been frequenting Nursing homes ever since I can remember, having various family members in a few, that this was not an entirely new experience for me. I have a easiness or a sense of familiarity whenever I'm in a nursing home that is not shared by everyone. It's actually interesting to see people who aren't use too the experience. Its an unknown that is scary because there is the prospect of ending up in that situation. But given time you'll quickly realize that these people are just that. People. They don't care hold old you are, what skin color you are, where your from or who your with. Just coming to say "hi" puts a smile on their face. Even if they won't remember you in five minutes, it doesn't matter. Bringing joy to someone is always worth it.
I apologize. This has gone a bit different than I had imagined and I'm not sure where this is going so I'm going to bring this to an end. I have written a story about a nursing home called "Record Store" that I might post up if anyone would like too read it. All in all I guess I just want everyone to just remember when all it took to be entertained was a Balloon. Its simple, only costs a few cents, some free air and you could have hours of fun. It is truly a beautiful thing. I think that since I'm still entertained by balloons so easily, if I have to make my trip too a nursing home than it won't be that much of a transition. Also, just because someone is old are can't remember who or even what you are, doesn't make them any less of a person. Actually the more I write about people in nursing homes I see myself describing myself. Forgetful, frail body, and easily entertained by balloons for hours. Maybe I'll be making my trip there sooner than I think. Hope you all come to visit me and bring a balloon. I'll leave you with this link that is a small snippet from George Carlin talking about balloons. He hits the nail on the head with this one. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siSsB_apB8U I apologize also for the worser grammar. At one point I had 4 tense changes in one sentences. Thanks for reading everyone hope too see you soon. Take care and stay safe. And remember
~Love~
Circled around a big screen T.V. was around 11 of some of the sweetest old people you could find. Sure not all of them were awake but most were. Though the movie, "Mrs. Doubtfire" was on, no one seemed to notice. The entertainment for the day was two colorful balloons and some kind of squishy toys. Now the scary thing was that after I joined in playing I didn't know who was having a better time, me or the old people I was playing with. Really I was having a blast. So much so I almost pulled my right hamstring. It was kind of sad because all of the old ladies were moving quite well for their advanced age and I was filling tightness after five minutes of play.
My group and I were there for about 2 hours and the entire time we just played with balloons with an occasional dance or two. Normally it's not the greatest idea to think that these people are reverting back to a kids mentality but in some instances it is. The fact that a balloon can keep them busy, entertained, and happy is actually really cool. When we grow older we loose innocents in many ways. We start to see that everything won't end up ok, we noticed that everyone is not the same as we are, and we start to see the world in a much bigger and deeper way. No longer can a Balloon hold our attention for long, we need something more stimulating or more thought provoking to keep our attention than preventing the balloon from hitting the ground. When we were kids we didn't notice what the other kid looked like or what was going on around us. Neither did we really care. When we are having fun that's all that mattered. Old and young folks couldn't care less about anything going on as long as they got a balloon. They don't care about the big screen T.V., no need for video games,don't need to go out, and need no outside stimulus as some fuel for fun except maybe another person. We get so wrapped up in our own world that sometimes we forget just how cool and fun a balloon is. I took a step out of my daily life and just marveled at the beauty of the whole thing.
Now I've been frequenting Nursing homes ever since I can remember, having various family members in a few, that this was not an entirely new experience for me. I have a easiness or a sense of familiarity whenever I'm in a nursing home that is not shared by everyone. It's actually interesting to see people who aren't use too the experience. Its an unknown that is scary because there is the prospect of ending up in that situation. But given time you'll quickly realize that these people are just that. People. They don't care hold old you are, what skin color you are, where your from or who your with. Just coming to say "hi" puts a smile on their face. Even if they won't remember you in five minutes, it doesn't matter. Bringing joy to someone is always worth it.
I apologize. This has gone a bit different than I had imagined and I'm not sure where this is going so I'm going to bring this to an end. I have written a story about a nursing home called "Record Store" that I might post up if anyone would like too read it. All in all I guess I just want everyone to just remember when all it took to be entertained was a Balloon. Its simple, only costs a few cents, some free air and you could have hours of fun. It is truly a beautiful thing. I think that since I'm still entertained by balloons so easily, if I have to make my trip too a nursing home than it won't be that much of a transition. Also, just because someone is old are can't remember who or even what you are, doesn't make them any less of a person. Actually the more I write about people in nursing homes I see myself describing myself. Forgetful, frail body, and easily entertained by balloons for hours. Maybe I'll be making my trip there sooner than I think. Hope you all come to visit me and bring a balloon. I'll leave you with this link that is a small snippet from George Carlin talking about balloons. He hits the nail on the head with this one. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siSsB_apB8U I apologize also for the worser grammar. At one point I had 4 tense changes in one sentences. Thanks for reading everyone hope too see you soon. Take care and stay safe. And remember
~Love~
Monday, February 9, 2009
Chinese Illiteracy - A cultural note
It would seems that my mind is up to its old tricks again and has committed a mild suicide on its self and erased majority of my memory. Well at least the memory of having to write a paragraph or so on an aspect of Chinese culture. Luckily I was creeping through blogs and I started to so a few of these paragraphs when I vaguely remembered being told to do such a thing. I don’t remember exactly what we had to do but I’m going to make a stab at the assignment and talk about Chinese culture.
Asia has always been a source of wonderment and interest of mine since I can remember. Being 25% Filipino(always puzzled me when they switch the P to an F) I always claimed to be Asain. Technically I am though I’m one of the few who would actually consider me Asian. Besides my mother’s influence, probably the fact that I lived in a household that put a heavy emphasis on History is probably where I got the start for my thirst of knowledge. That and video games. Oh those wonderful video games that opened so many doors for me.
My first interest lay in Mogolia and Japan. To this day I have a deep fascination with both but now have growing interest in China. Ever since I was little my mom has been taking me to Chicago’s China Town and this is probably my biggest immersion into their culture. Before taking Chinese class however, it never dawned on how complex and intricate everything was. When I was ignorant it was like going to some interesting fantasy land but now its like going to a fantasy land that overwhelms me in the fact that I know so little. When you don’t know anything the fact isn’t so bad. When you learn a little and realize how much you don’t know it can be horrifying. But the day I went back with my little puddle of knowledge I was overwhelmed but also inspired to pursue my goal of obtaining Chinese literacy. I’m still drowning in my little puddle but I’m making small ripples of progress so maybe one day I could float or even go in the deep end!
I realize I went off topic as I normally do and that my thoughts are very scattered. So without turning this small assignment into a maze of thoughts I’m just going to say that many aspects of Chinese culture catches my attention. Music, art, ideas, people, anything and everything. So I’m going to keep my little floatis on a little longer as I try to wade through this puddle in the hopes of deep sea diving into the Ocean that is the Chinese language.
~Love~
Asia has always been a source of wonderment and interest of mine since I can remember. Being 25% Filipino(always puzzled me when they switch the P to an F) I always claimed to be Asain. Technically I am though I’m one of the few who would actually consider me Asian. Besides my mother’s influence, probably the fact that I lived in a household that put a heavy emphasis on History is probably where I got the start for my thirst of knowledge. That and video games. Oh those wonderful video games that opened so many doors for me.
My first interest lay in Mogolia and Japan. To this day I have a deep fascination with both but now have growing interest in China. Ever since I was little my mom has been taking me to Chicago’s China Town and this is probably my biggest immersion into their culture. Before taking Chinese class however, it never dawned on how complex and intricate everything was. When I was ignorant it was like going to some interesting fantasy land but now its like going to a fantasy land that overwhelms me in the fact that I know so little. When you don’t know anything the fact isn’t so bad. When you learn a little and realize how much you don’t know it can be horrifying. But the day I went back with my little puddle of knowledge I was overwhelmed but also inspired to pursue my goal of obtaining Chinese literacy. I’m still drowning in my little puddle but I’m making small ripples of progress so maybe one day I could float or even go in the deep end!
I realize I went off topic as I normally do and that my thoughts are very scattered. So without turning this small assignment into a maze of thoughts I’m just going to say that many aspects of Chinese culture catches my attention. Music, art, ideas, people, anything and everything. So I’m going to keep my little floatis on a little longer as I try to wade through this puddle in the hopes of deep sea diving into the Ocean that is the Chinese language.
~Love~
Cradle of Meat Cleavers
You know, it’s a weird thing when you don’t know what to write about so you mention Meat Cleavers. Like now. Some say I have a stabbing problem. Well I do. Not that I do have one but that I’m one of the people who says it. Actually the only person. Though by me saying that I have a stabbing problem I’m saying that I in fact do have one. I do. Not that I stab things but I always seem to bring it up or write about it. I was going to bring a meat cleaver to school and put it in my box of “me” but I think I would have gotten in trouble. But it would have been cool. Its weird because it sounds like something I would do, but I didn’t. So is what I did what I would do or an off chance of doing something I wouldn’t have done but did it anyway.... Hi
Now that that’s over I’m going to write about something worth reading about. Two things really. My teacher reading her book and the book itself.
I’m sure everyone has seen my first ( that’s because I’m probably the only one to look at this blog without exiting it within five seconds) blog on how my teacher published her first book and had a reading on January 29th. To start the sidetracking, I noticed that whenever I’m doing anything that involves creative writing class weather it was this semester or last ( even highschool now that I think of it) always comes at the end a very long day. I always seem to be past the 24 hour mark of being up which is odd. Not that I’m up that long but I never seem to “awake” for my writing classes. Not that I’m sleeping (way too much fun) but my mind state is altered. Perspectives off and Meat cleavers appear more frequently. Even as I write this now at 4:01 in the morning sleep is taking the back seat. I miss sleep so much but yet I always make up stupid excuses to stay up like school and responsibilities. I know my body loves me so much. What this sidetrack is trying to get at was that when I went to this reading I was yet again chasing that 30 hour beast. But I was far from tired as I had been looking forward to this for a very long time.
I was going to skip my class to go to this which would have been major problems as the class I was going to skip was only one a week and said that we were allowed only one day of absents. But as I say “Sometimes there is more important things than school”. The difference was that this was a much more legitimate reason to cut class though staying up to play video games is also a very good excuses as well. But thanks to my irregularly long days, I sometimes forget what day it actual is. So I was all pumped and ready to skip my class when it dawned on me that my class was Wednesday and the reading was Thursday. This was much better though I admit it would have been awesome to skip class to go to this. But I’m content with not failing. Though I was contemplating getting a class for that time slot just to skip it.(Tired of the sidetracking yet?) I get to the reading and I manage to snag a sweet front row seat. Boss. The seating area filled up so that there was actually 65 or so people there.
Now I have to say when I listen to poetry I have the bad habit of letting my mind wander. I typically hear something interesting and my mind creates its own world revolving around it. Honestly I don’t listen or read poetry that often but I’m trying to change that. So I feel weird every time I talk about poetry when my experience in reading and writing in it is so limited. Keep that in mind. What I did to combat my wandering mind was to draw a picture. The idea actually came from Professor Brown...my teacher....the author...friend....writer... how do I refer to her? Anyways we were talking about art and writing and about combining them. We did a canvas exchange. I made a picture (which is my profile picture) and she was going to write a poem (which you still owe me ☺). Then I was to paint a picture based off the poem. Well I applied that to her reading. When she read I drew what came to mind.
She started off with a nice intro that gave some background info and cautioned that she was a bit on the ill side of things. This was going to interrupt the normally melodious rhythm of her dictation but in all honestly I didn’t notice save for a cough or two. I don’t know how to describe listening to the poems but I really enjoyed myself. She peppered the readings with comments in between poem sections that was actually really pretty cool. What was cool was she was telling the crowd things that she told us in class. She explained a few things that I remember in class making this reading that much cooler. Yes teacher if your reading this I did pay attention in class. But it was really cool hearing her work as well as hearing what she said at work rolled up into something enjoyable and something I wasn’t going to be graded on.
After the reading she talked a bit more and then she was going to sign her books. I got my copy and did not get in line to get my book signed. I hate lines. I sat until I was the last one which if you think of it I was more or less in the line just not physically in the line. We talked a little and I showed her the picture. Actually I’ll show you. Here!
I would love to say more on this fun day but I was up for a real long time and it was 2 weeks ago. I was going to write that night but I passed out on the couch involuntarily and I kept up on my procrastination streak.
Now here comes the real scary part. I’m going to talk about the actual book itself. As I said earlier I’m not even a toddler in the world of poetry but I’m going to review a published work. Not only do I have little experience but as I know the person who wrote it so it’s going to be slightly biased.
I wanted to read this book when I had time and was not worried about doing anything so I could concentrate on the book. It never came until the day I had to ride back on the train. Perfect. I also was going to try doing something for this book that I never do. Read without music. Typically I listen to music when I write or read but I wanted to let the book paint pictures purely on its own. It was cool because I started to read the book in the lamp light as I was sitting on the train platform. It felt like I was in a movie.
“CRADLE SONG a poem Stacy Lynn Brown”. First I really like the title of the book as it sets a calmer softer feeling that is only reinforced by the lovely cover picture. The book is one long poem but divided into sections or mini poems (sorry I can’t explain it well). What is striking is the fact that the poems don’t have titles. To me this would be cutting a large part of the fun. I love making titles and to not have one would be just wrong. I would name each poem and I’m glad to say she did not. This poem has a lot to do with feel and has its own sense of delivery that would actually be hindered with the inclusion of titles. Titles tend to set up feelings or images in my mind while this was different. The only thing that gave me feeling is what I previously read. Each poem built on each other, though not deathly linked, which was like being a leaf and traveling on the wind. I was always in the same world but my perspective would always be changing giving new insight and its own feel. Each section felt like it belonged and when each new poem was read it made a clearer picture. Nothing sticking too far out and nothing too similar. A beautiful coffee blend for the mind.
The poems were more than enough too keep my attention and actually made me think quite a bit. I always enjoyed when I could visualize my teacher actually doing these things then chuckling on the word “I”. It was an experience of getting to know my teacher in a unique way. I don’t feel that I know her that much better but I understand where she is coming from. I finished the book in one sitting which took around hour. I also read the book from beginning to end on the ride back as well. It’s a great feeling when you wish that the train ride was longer so you can just sit there and read more. But alas everything comes too an end. Especially the good things it seems.
It’s hard to pick a favorite section but the poems that stuck out the most were IV, XIV, XVIII, XIX, XXIX, IXL, and my favorite being XVI. Want to read them? Buy the book! http://crpress.notilt.com/Cradle-Song.aspx It is definitely worth it in my opinion. Though I’ve been in a writing mood this semester this book has only made my desire to write even more. I actually wrote that review on the read that I was suppose to write awhile ago and actually have a few ideas for a poem or two. So I thank you teach, writer, friend, Mrs. Brown, and or whatever you are for providing a great source of entertainment and inspiration... you still owe me that poem. I will hunt you down and shake my fist vigorously at you... though after reading your book I know you can scrap, your something of a dead eye with firearms, you have both a height and reach advantage, and are no stranger to a blades... actually you know what, I’m just going to let you work at your own pace. I will leave snide comments on my blogs... that no one reads...and you have your own so you could do the same.... Actually I’m just going to stick with the Thank you part.
I’m beginning to wonder if this stream of consciousness is a good thing as it gets really convoluted and stupid rather quickly. Whatever. I deeply apologize to everyone who managed to wade through that sea of horrific grammar and managed to make it this far. Thank you very much. I don’t know what I’m going to put up next but it might have a poem involved. I have a meeting with my current English teacher in a few hours so I should go chase some Z’s. In all seriousness “Cradle Song” was great and you should check it out. Good morning everyone.
~Love~
Now that that’s over I’m going to write about something worth reading about. Two things really. My teacher reading her book and the book itself.
I’m sure everyone has seen my first ( that’s because I’m probably the only one to look at this blog without exiting it within five seconds) blog on how my teacher published her first book and had a reading on January 29th. To start the sidetracking, I noticed that whenever I’m doing anything that involves creative writing class weather it was this semester or last ( even highschool now that I think of it) always comes at the end a very long day. I always seem to be past the 24 hour mark of being up which is odd. Not that I’m up that long but I never seem to “awake” for my writing classes. Not that I’m sleeping (way too much fun) but my mind state is altered. Perspectives off and Meat cleavers appear more frequently. Even as I write this now at 4:01 in the morning sleep is taking the back seat. I miss sleep so much but yet I always make up stupid excuses to stay up like school and responsibilities. I know my body loves me so much. What this sidetrack is trying to get at was that when I went to this reading I was yet again chasing that 30 hour beast. But I was far from tired as I had been looking forward to this for a very long time.
I was going to skip my class to go to this which would have been major problems as the class I was going to skip was only one a week and said that we were allowed only one day of absents. But as I say “Sometimes there is more important things than school”. The difference was that this was a much more legitimate reason to cut class though staying up to play video games is also a very good excuses as well. But thanks to my irregularly long days, I sometimes forget what day it actual is. So I was all pumped and ready to skip my class when it dawned on me that my class was Wednesday and the reading was Thursday. This was much better though I admit it would have been awesome to skip class to go to this. But I’m content with not failing. Though I was contemplating getting a class for that time slot just to skip it.(Tired of the sidetracking yet?) I get to the reading and I manage to snag a sweet front row seat. Boss. The seating area filled up so that there was actually 65 or so people there.
Now I have to say when I listen to poetry I have the bad habit of letting my mind wander. I typically hear something interesting and my mind creates its own world revolving around it. Honestly I don’t listen or read poetry that often but I’m trying to change that. So I feel weird every time I talk about poetry when my experience in reading and writing in it is so limited. Keep that in mind. What I did to combat my wandering mind was to draw a picture. The idea actually came from Professor Brown...my teacher....the author...friend....writer... how do I refer to her? Anyways we were talking about art and writing and about combining them. We did a canvas exchange. I made a picture (which is my profile picture) and she was going to write a poem (which you still owe me ☺). Then I was to paint a picture based off the poem. Well I applied that to her reading. When she read I drew what came to mind.
She started off with a nice intro that gave some background info and cautioned that she was a bit on the ill side of things. This was going to interrupt the normally melodious rhythm of her dictation but in all honestly I didn’t notice save for a cough or two. I don’t know how to describe listening to the poems but I really enjoyed myself. She peppered the readings with comments in between poem sections that was actually really pretty cool. What was cool was she was telling the crowd things that she told us in class. She explained a few things that I remember in class making this reading that much cooler. Yes teacher if your reading this I did pay attention in class. But it was really cool hearing her work as well as hearing what she said at work rolled up into something enjoyable and something I wasn’t going to be graded on.
After the reading she talked a bit more and then she was going to sign her books. I got my copy and did not get in line to get my book signed. I hate lines. I sat until I was the last one which if you think of it I was more or less in the line just not physically in the line. We talked a little and I showed her the picture. Actually I’ll show you. Here!
I would love to say more on this fun day but I was up for a real long time and it was 2 weeks ago. I was going to write that night but I passed out on the couch involuntarily and I kept up on my procrastination streak.
Now here comes the real scary part. I’m going to talk about the actual book itself. As I said earlier I’m not even a toddler in the world of poetry but I’m going to review a published work. Not only do I have little experience but as I know the person who wrote it so it’s going to be slightly biased.
I wanted to read this book when I had time and was not worried about doing anything so I could concentrate on the book. It never came until the day I had to ride back on the train. Perfect. I also was going to try doing something for this book that I never do. Read without music. Typically I listen to music when I write or read but I wanted to let the book paint pictures purely on its own. It was cool because I started to read the book in the lamp light as I was sitting on the train platform. It felt like I was in a movie.
“CRADLE SONG a poem Stacy Lynn Brown”. First I really like the title of the book as it sets a calmer softer feeling that is only reinforced by the lovely cover picture. The book is one long poem but divided into sections or mini poems (sorry I can’t explain it well). What is striking is the fact that the poems don’t have titles. To me this would be cutting a large part of the fun. I love making titles and to not have one would be just wrong. I would name each poem and I’m glad to say she did not. This poem has a lot to do with feel and has its own sense of delivery that would actually be hindered with the inclusion of titles. Titles tend to set up feelings or images in my mind while this was different. The only thing that gave me feeling is what I previously read. Each poem built on each other, though not deathly linked, which was like being a leaf and traveling on the wind. I was always in the same world but my perspective would always be changing giving new insight and its own feel. Each section felt like it belonged and when each new poem was read it made a clearer picture. Nothing sticking too far out and nothing too similar. A beautiful coffee blend for the mind.
The poems were more than enough too keep my attention and actually made me think quite a bit. I always enjoyed when I could visualize my teacher actually doing these things then chuckling on the word “I”. It was an experience of getting to know my teacher in a unique way. I don’t feel that I know her that much better but I understand where she is coming from. I finished the book in one sitting which took around hour. I also read the book from beginning to end on the ride back as well. It’s a great feeling when you wish that the train ride was longer so you can just sit there and read more. But alas everything comes too an end. Especially the good things it seems.
It’s hard to pick a favorite section but the poems that stuck out the most were IV, XIV, XVIII, XIX, XXIX, IXL, and my favorite being XVI. Want to read them? Buy the book! http://crpress.notilt.com/Cradle-Song.aspx It is definitely worth it in my opinion. Though I’ve been in a writing mood this semester this book has only made my desire to write even more. I actually wrote that review on the read that I was suppose to write awhile ago and actually have a few ideas for a poem or two. So I thank you teach, writer, friend, Mrs. Brown, and or whatever you are for providing a great source of entertainment and inspiration... you still owe me that poem. I will hunt you down and shake my fist vigorously at you... though after reading your book I know you can scrap, your something of a dead eye with firearms, you have both a height and reach advantage, and are no stranger to a blades... actually you know what, I’m just going to let you work at your own pace. I will leave snide comments on my blogs... that no one reads...and you have your own so you could do the same.... Actually I’m just going to stick with the Thank you part.
I’m beginning to wonder if this stream of consciousness is a good thing as it gets really convoluted and stupid rather quickly. Whatever. I deeply apologize to everyone who managed to wade through that sea of horrific grammar and managed to make it this far. Thank you very much. I don’t know what I’m going to put up next but it might have a poem involved. I have a meeting with my current English teacher in a few hours so I should go chase some Z’s. In all seriousness “Cradle Song” was great and you should check it out. Good morning everyone.
~Love~
Chinese illiteracy!
Good Morning! As some of you might know I have been delving into the fascinating world that is Chinese. This is actually one of the main reasons why I made this blog, that and for the Power trio. In Chinese I’m known as 孔大宁 ! Our assignment is to type five sentences in Chinese characters and post them on my blog so that is exactly what I’m going to do. I’m horrible at English so I might as well butcher another language for fun. So I apologize if anything is wrong and it is so bad I offend. Also I tired to have a little fun as I was probably not going to get 100%.
1. 小=E 9 的 影 视 ！
2．我晚喜欢听音乐跟舞
3．她常常看外书
4．我中国课椅听见对了
5．您不掺电和水
Ok time for notes. My Chinese name is spelled wrong? The second character is wrong but I'm not sure if that is called a spelling error or something else.I would simply go and fix it but I'm on my labtop and I don't have characters. I finished the assignment on Thursday but never posted. Instead I copied and pasted what I wrote in an email but I forgot that I never actually posted it. What Line one is trying to say is "xiao Gao has Shadow Vision! Line two is suppose to say "I like to listen to music and dance at night." Line three is suppose to be "She often reads books" Line 4 is suppose to be "In Chinese class I rarely hear "Correct". Line 5 was suppose to say "Don't mix water and electricity". I have a feeling I was pretty off but I tried. More blogging fun too come soon. Keep looking for more ramblings and remember
~Love~
1. 小=E 9 的 影 视 ！
2．我晚喜欢听音乐跟舞
3．她常常看外书
4．我中国课椅听见对了
5．您不掺电和水
Ok time for notes. My Chinese name is spelled wrong? The second character is wrong but I'm not sure if that is called a spelling error or something else.I would simply go and fix it but I'm on my labtop and I don't have characters. I finished the assignment on Thursday but never posted. Instead I copied and pasted what I wrote in an email but I forgot that I never actually posted it. What Line one is trying to say is "xiao Gao has Shadow Vision! Line two is suppose to say "I like to listen to music and dance at night." Line three is suppose to be "She often reads books" Line 4 is suppose to be "In Chinese class I rarely hear "Correct". Line 5 was suppose to say "Don't mix water and electricity". I have a feeling I was pretty off but I tried. More blogging fun too come soon. Keep looking for more ramblings and remember
~Love~
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