This reading is unlike the previous readings we have done. ‘The Art of Immemorability’ is something I would expect to find in a journal of academic standing. It is different from the others readings we have done in that it is entirely in prose, there isn’t a single poem to be had. The reading was highly informative and lucid, explaining the myriad connections between poetry, the written word, Greek plays, the alphabet, and the march of progress. This reading shared a lot in common with previous writings as well. I assumed the paper would be purely informative after several pages but in the parting words a message revealed itself. The reading states that poetry has moved away from what it once was and that now poetry needs to move forward in physicality, temporality, and dynamism.
I found this reading easy, despite the many new terms I had to look up. I felt as though the author really tries to make the article engaging and interesting. I liked how the statements and ideas offered by the author had tons of background information so that I didn’t just have to take what was said at face value. The article explained how the different time frames in which poetry was written affected the medium. Additionally the medium of the language affects what is produced and how. The writing made me think a lot of the poem “Arcadia” because I think they had a similar subject. The reason the article gives for why poetry should be experimented with is the fact that poetry has not been static historically and that it needs to stay current with hyper-literate world. The writing acknowledges resistance toward modern poetry, but reassures us on the top of page then that “change is not corruption”.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Mandala: Dilemma
I read Mandala: Dilemma after being rejected from the online options. I usually dislike poems that are so simple, because the ideas are given emphasis by standing alone, but the attention placed on the few words are too much for the substance to uphold. Instead it just seems flimsy and needing to me. But Mandala: Dilemma surprised me by making me think quite profoundly on the nature of writing, which is the exact reaction I think the author intended. The piece is a circle of words, so it can be started to be read anywhere, but I read the piece as ‘-the pen is mightier than-‘, which then repeats itself infinitely.
The saying ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’ has a very definite lesson. The dilemma in Mandala: Dilemma is that the pen is then mightier than the pen as well, which is a sort of logical fallacy. I didn’t think that I could find five hundred words in such a short piece, but I had tried to use ‘Untitled’ and ‘Outward Bound’, but one didn’t make much sense to me and the other made me feel betrayed after I realized it had nothing to do with pets returning home after an arduous journey. I will not lie to you; I did think it had the word penis in it the first three times I read it. But the poem breaks just enough conventions in my mind to be interesting but also remain accessible.
I actually had to do some researching for this assignment in the form of a Google search for the word mandala after I deciphered the circle-text and realized I still didn’t understand much. Turns out mandala is Sanskrit for circle and in the Hindu and Buddhist religions, their sacred art usually take the form of a mandala. The mandala was used as a spiritual teaching tool for focusing the attention of adapts. Keeping the title in mind on my second read-through, I found a plethora of new meanings. The nature of the circle changed from that of a witty play on a popular saying into a question about the Tao of writing.
I think it is fairly self-explanatory why the author didn’t use a more traditional style for this poem. If the poem were to be read from left to right it could not convey the infinite loop that the author is trying to convey. At best it could go on for a very long time, or it could have something in parenthesis that states it goes on forever. Neither of these options is as powerful as the simplicity of the circle and the connotations the title draws along with it. The cyclical nature of the poem draws many questions to mind, like if there are two pen’s in constant struggle or if every pen is defeated by another pen or if all pens are bested by a pen in some way.
I thought about the layout of the poem and came to a consensus with myself that the circle was right in being alone on the page. Any other writing would not only detract from the circle and seem more important but it would upset the flow and make a general nuisance of itself. In fact I felt very appreciative to the poem for being so likable. Now I can feel confident that when I dislike the vast majority of experimental poetry I can find solace in the fact that I liked one so I do not hate them all and it is clearly it’s fault and not mine.
The poem speaks to me about the power of creativity as well as the power of time. The pen bests the sword but another pen bests that pen. And ideas will always contest and triumph over each other. I really like the meanings I was able to draw from the piece and I don’t think that there is one right answer for what the poem is saying. In that respect it is even more reminiscent of a religious tool, in that it was a question for me to find my own answers from myself rather then a argument for one point of view.
The saying ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’ has a very definite lesson. The dilemma in Mandala: Dilemma is that the pen is then mightier than the pen as well, which is a sort of logical fallacy. I didn’t think that I could find five hundred words in such a short piece, but I had tried to use ‘Untitled’ and ‘Outward Bound’, but one didn’t make much sense to me and the other made me feel betrayed after I realized it had nothing to do with pets returning home after an arduous journey. I will not lie to you; I did think it had the word penis in it the first three times I read it. But the poem breaks just enough conventions in my mind to be interesting but also remain accessible.
I actually had to do some researching for this assignment in the form of a Google search for the word mandala after I deciphered the circle-text and realized I still didn’t understand much. Turns out mandala is Sanskrit for circle and in the Hindu and Buddhist religions, their sacred art usually take the form of a mandala. The mandala was used as a spiritual teaching tool for focusing the attention of adapts. Keeping the title in mind on my second read-through, I found a plethora of new meanings. The nature of the circle changed from that of a witty play on a popular saying into a question about the Tao of writing.
I think it is fairly self-explanatory why the author didn’t use a more traditional style for this poem. If the poem were to be read from left to right it could not convey the infinite loop that the author is trying to convey. At best it could go on for a very long time, or it could have something in parenthesis that states it goes on forever. Neither of these options is as powerful as the simplicity of the circle and the connotations the title draws along with it. The cyclical nature of the poem draws many questions to mind, like if there are two pen’s in constant struggle or if every pen is defeated by another pen or if all pens are bested by a pen in some way.
I thought about the layout of the poem and came to a consensus with myself that the circle was right in being alone on the page. Any other writing would not only detract from the circle and seem more important but it would upset the flow and make a general nuisance of itself. In fact I felt very appreciative to the poem for being so likable. Now I can feel confident that when I dislike the vast majority of experimental poetry I can find solace in the fact that I liked one so I do not hate them all and it is clearly it’s fault and not mine.
The poem speaks to me about the power of creativity as well as the power of time. The pen bests the sword but another pen bests that pen. And ideas will always contest and triumph over each other. I really like the meanings I was able to draw from the piece and I don’t think that there is one right answer for what the poem is saying. In that respect it is even more reminiscent of a religious tool, in that it was a question for me to find my own answers from myself rather then a argument for one point of view.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Brought to you by the Letters N and K along with the number 3
I found the letters K and the letters N to be extremely expressive letters. The K kicked the crap out of the air, jazzercise-style, and ended with doing the splits. The K just looked pumped up and ready to go to me. It had spunk.
The N was on a trampoline and was jumping. At the pinnacle of each bounce he would wiggle, or flex. It was clear to me that this N was having a good time. It was extremely clear.
I guess I picked the letters with the most energy because I like to see that in a letter. There was a G that was animated very deftly in my eyes, which juggled itself. I liked it but it had ability, not emotion.
There was a Q that ended up crying a single tear but I abstained from picking it because that type of behavior is not to be encouraged.
The N was on a trampoline and was jumping. At the pinnacle of each bounce he would wiggle, or flex. It was clear to me that this N was having a good time. It was extremely clear.
I guess I picked the letters with the most energy because I like to see that in a letter. There was a G that was animated very deftly in my eyes, which juggled itself. I liked it but it had ability, not emotion.
There was a Q that ended up crying a single tear but I abstained from picking it because that type of behavior is not to be encouraged.
Reaction to O rolling around
I think that my O works because of the motion implied by the landscape behind it. I liked looking at everyone's works and it did not escape me that a great deal of students have a much better grasp of flash than I do. But I still am loyal to my O.
The o is seen rolling up a hill and then down it, into a wall. The speed lines make the circle look like it is moving along with the fact the hill rolls by. I think that it is easy to think the o is rolling because of how it is drawn slightly differently in each frame. I wanted to have the circle tilt sideways like a tire on a vehicle in a cartoon.
The o is seen rolling up a hill and then down it, into a wall. The speed lines make the circle look like it is moving along with the fact the hill rolls by. I think that it is easy to think the o is rolling because of how it is drawn slightly differently in each frame. I wanted to have the circle tilt sideways like a tire on a vehicle in a cartoon.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Postulating Preliminary Plans
Now that I've read about my letter's history and also played around with the flash I'll be using I think I have a much better idea how my first project will look like. I will still have the letter o rolling and bouncing but I might have it morph from an eye or perhaps an omega or zero.
I don't know if I want to include other letters as secondary characters. Maybe my O could be a runnaway zero. I am not at a loss for ideas in this endevor but the restrictions of my flash abilities has put a cap on my more outlandish expectations.
I don't know if I want to include other letters as secondary characters. Maybe my O could be a runnaway zero. I am not at a loss for ideas in this endevor but the restrictions of my flash abilities has put a cap on my more outlandish expectations.
The History of O
The history of the letter o can be traced back to semitic adjads, a type of writing system that is made up of mostly consonants. It is thought that the letter was derived from the Egyptian hieroglyph for ‘eye’. In Greek the letter O came to have both it’s long pronunciation and it’s short one. It came to Britain around the 6th or 7th century when the Romans standardized Old English.
Similar to the letter X, O does not change shape when it changes case. Besides that there isn’t very much information on the letter O, it took me a while to think up how to get four sources. Interestingly enough, zero originated as a marking to ‘hold the row’ when a number was less than ten and was grouped with other number that had two digits. By placing a zero in front of the digits, confusion was avoided. So zero and o don’t come from anywhere remotely similar.
I read a short story that had a Neolithic man and his daughter creating sounds for things and after hearing the man say “Oh!” the daughter quickly decided to have an egg or rock represent the sounds, as it coincided with the shape of her father’s mouth.
An animation with an O could have it rolling or bouncing. It could hover or shuffle about as well but that would be a waste of the letter’s unique talents. I made a short animation of the letter O rolling along and posted it.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2010/mar/16/story-of-letter-o-design
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O
http://www.alphabetandletter.com/
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/O
Similar to the letter X, O does not change shape when it changes case. Besides that there isn’t very much information on the letter O, it took me a while to think up how to get four sources. Interestingly enough, zero originated as a marking to ‘hold the row’ when a number was less than ten and was grouped with other number that had two digits. By placing a zero in front of the digits, confusion was avoided. So zero and o don’t come from anywhere remotely similar.
I read a short story that had a Neolithic man and his daughter creating sounds for things and after hearing the man say “Oh!” the daughter quickly decided to have an egg or rock represent the sounds, as it coincided with the shape of her father’s mouth.
An animation with an O could have it rolling or bouncing. It could hover or shuffle about as well but that would be a waste of the letter’s unique talents. I made a short animation of the letter O rolling along and posted it.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2010/mar/16/story-of-letter-o-design
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O
http://www.alphabetandletter.com/
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/O
Sunday, September 5, 2010
O
The letter O reminds me of the cyclical nature of time, as well as any number of delicious foodstuffs. The letter "o" is a perfect circle, a hole, and a zero. I think that O will be interesting to animate, being able to roll and bounce. I didn't consider the case of the letter when I picked O and I don't think it matters much, shape-wise. I'd probably go with the lowercase because then it would be a little guy. It's always easy to root for an underdog. I was thinking that I might make my o be in a race of some sort, animating the background behind it to make it seem like moving, it thats at all possible. When I find that this is harder then I had imagined I will probably end up making him try to fit in with C and D. When he is rejected he can roll away real slow like so you know he's sad.
Myself as a writer
I decided to post a short story written by me as a way of posting a blog on myself as a writer. It is much easier for me and perhaps more informative to be shown a piece of my work than me to try to write about it. I like to read a great deal but other than the previous story I have not written much. I prefer the generes of science fiction, fantasy, and mystery.
“The Cowardly Little Toaster”
Waking for breakfast, I unfurl myself from layers of blankets and bedding, only to find a powerful melancholy awaiting me. I walk down the stairs, illuminated by the morning’s dawn and because of the bright new day’s promise of warming sunbeams I am tricked into a foolhardy optimism.
But my daydream falls falteringly when I am coldly (mind the linoleum floor) returned to lucidity and reminded of life’s futility. Our hero is already on the scene. I glare contemptuously for several seconds before casually accosting him into colloquial water-cooler type conversation.
“So, beautiful night, last. Go anywhere? Do anything? Anything at all?”
Stupid bastard didn’t know what hit him.
Silence
Occasionally I have the shadow of the doubt of a hunch of a gut feeling that my friend here is a ticking time bomb. Every morning I aggravate him as much as I please and his fuse burns that much lower. I’m not afraid of what he’ll do to me once the fuse runs out mind you, I’m so bored of his non-responsefullness that a murder attempt would brighten up my day. Put a spring in my step.
I’m pouring my coffee, allowing my unparalleled jape totally at his expense time to settle in. Once that one felt nice and at home I decided to gift him another. I was serenading his hatred.
“I saw a movie last night, curious as to what it was about?” I give my subject a sidelong glance. He knows what’s coming. His very essence is shaking, atoms vibrating with a quantum bloodlust.
“Well there’s this toaster you see, and this toaster has all these friends and can talk and think and feel. Anyway the toaster’s owner moves away, so this toaster, this tiny kitchen appliance with a giant heart charismatically rounds up all the other electronics and goes on a real page-turner, cinematically speaking.”
Oh if only you could see his face, livid. Absolutely livid.
“Anyhow, turns out the toaster has all sorts of character and determination up to here (gestures as high above my head as I can reach) and he has fun and the electronics have fun and the kid is reunited with the electronics and it has a happy ending.”
I turn over the victim trying to knock out some of the crumbs.
“What got me the most was how this toaster was so likeable, not like you. Plus he was always up for an adventure. The humans would find the toaster all kinds of places and just be weirded out. I mean, who leaves a toaster on the highway, toasters can’t just up and walk around can they?”(I whip around to add emphasis to my statement, also to see if he’s flipping me off, which I would be doing to him were I in his shoes right about now[a bit of coffee spills, is very hot, cannot show weakness in front of enemy{allow myself a momentary flinch, but get right back to the nitty gritty}])
I notice the sullenness of his frame; I had hit him where it counted. I had always been a little peeved that this toaster didn’t do anything like the toasters in the movies. I mean, sure, I knew Hollywood jazzed it up a lot, but this? What I had to live with every morning was a joke, a goddamned joke.
Here was a bottom of the line model if I ever saw one. He could Toast only two slices at a time, the minimum number that a toaster can, he has a painfully short extension cord, and visually his color was that of an aged photograph, he left toast unbrowned sometimes, other times burnt to a blackened crisp.
And don’t get me started on crumbs! Every inch of his disgusting innards are coated with a crumb lining. Turning him over and shaking him for upwards of 10 minutes 59 seconds does not even empty him of burnt bread kernels.
I doubt he could lead a single utensil on a quest, let alone half of my appliances in my kitchen. The eggbeater would eat him alive.
I had my fun though, enough was enough. This little guy was clearly hurting.
“Oh did you see the second one?” I warned myself in my head, this was really too far, “I think that the toaster goes to the Moon or Jupiter or something. Fancy that, just floating around in space, discovering things, charting the vastness of space, giant leap for man, and all that?”
I had done it now. He’ll probably hate me to the end of his life, insulting his dream of exploring the cosmos. All he wanted was to be an astronaut, who am I to judge or say he can’t do it. Whatever, I’m not feeling sorry for what I did.
He brought it on himself.
But my daydream falls falteringly when I am coldly (mind the linoleum floor) returned to lucidity and reminded of life’s futility. Our hero is already on the scene. I glare contemptuously for several seconds before casually accosting him into colloquial water-cooler type conversation.
“So, beautiful night, last. Go anywhere? Do anything? Anything at all?”
Stupid bastard didn’t know what hit him.
Silence
Occasionally I have the shadow of the doubt of a hunch of a gut feeling that my friend here is a ticking time bomb. Every morning I aggravate him as much as I please and his fuse burns that much lower. I’m not afraid of what he’ll do to me once the fuse runs out mind you, I’m so bored of his non-responsefullness that a murder attempt would brighten up my day. Put a spring in my step.
I’m pouring my coffee, allowing my unparalleled jape totally at his expense time to settle in. Once that one felt nice and at home I decided to gift him another. I was serenading his hatred.
“I saw a movie last night, curious as to what it was about?” I give my subject a sidelong glance. He knows what’s coming. His very essence is shaking, atoms vibrating with a quantum bloodlust.
“Well there’s this toaster you see, and this toaster has all these friends and can talk and think and feel. Anyway the toaster’s owner moves away, so this toaster, this tiny kitchen appliance with a giant heart charismatically rounds up all the other electronics and goes on a real page-turner, cinematically speaking.”
Oh if only you could see his face, livid. Absolutely livid.
“Anyhow, turns out the toaster has all sorts of character and determination up to here (gestures as high above my head as I can reach) and he has fun and the electronics have fun and the kid is reunited with the electronics and it has a happy ending.”
I turn over the victim trying to knock out some of the crumbs.
“What got me the most was how this toaster was so likeable, not like you. Plus he was always up for an adventure. The humans would find the toaster all kinds of places and just be weirded out. I mean, who leaves a toaster on the highway, toasters can’t just up and walk around can they?”(I whip around to add emphasis to my statement, also to see if he’s flipping me off, which I would be doing to him were I in his shoes right about now[a bit of coffee spills, is very hot, cannot show weakness in front of enemy{allow myself a momentary flinch, but get right back to the nitty gritty}])
I notice the sullenness of his frame; I had hit him where it counted. I had always been a little peeved that this toaster didn’t do anything like the toasters in the movies. I mean, sure, I knew Hollywood jazzed it up a lot, but this? What I had to live with every morning was a joke, a goddamned joke.
Here was a bottom of the line model if I ever saw one. He could Toast only two slices at a time, the minimum number that a toaster can, he has a painfully short extension cord, and visually his color was that of an aged photograph, he left toast unbrowned sometimes, other times burnt to a blackened crisp.
And don’t get me started on crumbs! Every inch of his disgusting innards are coated with a crumb lining. Turning him over and shaking him for upwards of 10 minutes 59 seconds does not even empty him of burnt bread kernels.
I doubt he could lead a single utensil on a quest, let alone half of my appliances in my kitchen. The eggbeater would eat him alive.
I had my fun though, enough was enough. This little guy was clearly hurting.
“Oh did you see the second one?” I warned myself in my head, this was really too far, “I think that the toaster goes to the Moon or Jupiter or something. Fancy that, just floating around in space, discovering things, charting the vastness of space, giant leap for man, and all that?”
I had done it now. He’ll probably hate me to the end of his life, insulting his dream of exploring the cosmos. All he wanted was to be an astronaut, who am I to judge or say he can’t do it. Whatever, I’m not feeling sorry for what I did.
He brought it on himself.
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