tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33278015993347525762024-03-14T09:07:55.796-04:00The Empty Round TableAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-65822591967595336742016-05-16T17:42:00.001-04:002016-05-16T18:05:40.153-04:00Love is our cross to bear...<div style="text-align: center;">
When I was 18 , I lived with my sister Danielle for a month. She was in her last year of college at BYU- Provo and I was getting ready for my first quarter at Utah State in Logan, Being the baby of the family, I had spent the last 6 years at home as a kind of only child battling out the terms and conditions of my teenage existence with two exhausted but stubborn parents. I am, and always have been, an introvert while Danielle was a sparkling social butterfly with a no nonsense form of honesty that meant you either loved her or thought she was hiding her broomstick somewhere rather uncomfortable.She had a passion for trying new things and possessed the confidence to meet strangers and become friends. We were as dissimilar as sisters can be.... except when we laughed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTat_hMNBmCowbfDhxsCp7ENH2tBgVkxhMA869gFYQS6YbDDyDYyV7OIMCzopoX6m_MgSA7oGhNkd6Yq0Hb1VRBh9lov2OG7d3Gim2lDFnFGJ6ZWfps32BVyB1t2Pquk2C-_EFWq5YHCXI/s1600/dan+and+jen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTat_hMNBmCowbfDhxsCp7ENH2tBgVkxhMA869gFYQS6YbDDyDYyV7OIMCzopoX6m_MgSA7oGhNkd6Yq0Hb1VRBh9lov2OG7d3Gim2lDFnFGJ6ZWfps32BVyB1t2Pquk2C-_EFWq5YHCXI/s320/dan+and+jen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Danielle and I were drastically different and yet we could,and often did, crack ourselves up laughing over the most ridiculous things. We got that from our mom, I think, The month I slept on Danielle's couch we did a lot of laughing. I remember she would come home from class and I would have been working on a story I was writing at the time and she would make me read her what I had written that day. She was my cheerleader. I never thought my writing had any real potential other than for my own satisfaction until my big sister showed me with her love and support that what I had to say was interesting, sometimes even entertaining. While she saw me as the smart little sister who had a hard time finishing anything, I knew she was the brave one determined to overcome her learning challenges and make a difference in other people's lives and I knew she had the brains to succeed.</div>
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Having someone like Danielle in your life was a blessing. Like all blessings it came with a myriad of challenges and frustrations and made you a better person for loving and being loved by her.</div>
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There is a hauntingly poignant song by John Gorka that talks about love being a cross to bear. I didn't fully comprehend what that meant until my sister died. While the lyrics may be for some lost love I never fail to think of my big sis Danielle when I listen to these words:</div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">And so it is until we meet again</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">And I throw my arms around you</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">You can count the gray hairs in my head</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">I'll still be thankful that I found you</span></i><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-73970825141543441842015-06-24T21:12:00.001-04:002015-06-24T21:12:36.530-04:00 Claron "Monk" Bailey Obituary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpO1GW9BCbPogniNvuIuRPPz5ttEl692D0QaPJEblL3WdO62vqiErUKTf6eQYKJfgqfjvHjnq3jQnO8f0ZME9fKWzA6dYsoh85eNbu3-gmTA3flICr87TvPXuCrXPf3kPV5oIpTOxaZ2U/s1600/11222012_861435303940467_1485516519762102610_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpO1GW9BCbPogniNvuIuRPPz5ttEl692D0QaPJEblL3WdO62vqiErUKTf6eQYKJfgqfjvHjnq3jQnO8f0ZME9fKWzA6dYsoh85eNbu3-gmTA3flICr87TvPXuCrXPf3kPV5oIpTOxaZ2U/s320/11222012_861435303940467_1485516519762102610_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Irc9IqoGG4grGLrY6_vzbixAJ5ocglxzrYHnRNYW6UtZlbk1ievwxpmHwF0oz0Htg2_tKD22KwpZJpXikGJtvtcnDNAkh2nS2IKZCEMr4YeRN3BXxhqsHgrXshEbiQs51wPUKlAKzgJZ/s1600/11405534_859771700773494_205234173394003070_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Irc9IqoGG4grGLrY6_vzbixAJ5ocglxzrYHnRNYW6UtZlbk1ievwxpmHwF0oz0Htg2_tKD22KwpZJpXikGJtvtcnDNAkh2nS2IKZCEMr4YeRN3BXxhqsHgrXshEbiQs51wPUKlAKzgJZ/s320/11405534_859771700773494_205234173394003070_o.jpg" width="240" /></a> On June 18, 2015 Claron Everett “Monk” Bailey passed away in
his home in Queen Creek AZ after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in
March. Monk was born on April 22, 1938 in Los Angeles CA. He grew up in Moab Utah and graduated from
Grand High School where he was a four sport letterman. He attended and played football (FB/DB) for
the University of Utah from 1956-1960 and was an All-Conference selection in
1959. After college Monk played with the
St. Louis Cardinals (1963-1965). He also
played one year (1966) with the Toronto Argonauts (CFL). After moving to Long Island NY, Monk played
for several semi-pro football teams including the Long Island Bulls, Bridgeport
Jets, and the Jersey Jays. After
retiring from football, Monk sold medical supplies and later started his own
auto top business. He continued to coach
football part-time and was the head football coach at Floral Park HS and
Plainview JFK HS in New York. He was an
assistant football coach at Bloomsburg University (PA), Bucknell University,
Hofstra University, the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy, New Haven University,
C.W. Post University, Maritime SUNY, Southern Virginia University, Weber State
University, and Dixie State College.
After moving to Queen Creek AZ he was an assistant football coach at San
Tan Valley HS.<br />
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After joining the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saints in 1966, Monk was an active member until his death. He had a zeal for missionary work and loved
sharing the gospel by befriending and serving others. He served in several callings in the Church but
his favorite was as the Branch President of the Young Single Adult Ward in
Plainview NY (1999-2005). Monk was a kid
at heart and loved working with the young adults. He loved people, his family and the gospel of
Jesus Christ. He is survived by his wife
Kristine Soltau and his children, Michell Shane (Mark) of Cody WY, Everett
(Robin) of Mesa AZ, Noel Houghton (Tim)
of Aurora IL, Jenielle of Aurora IL, and also by his 12 grandchildren and 3
great-grandchildren. He was preceded in
death by daughter Danielle Gomez, sister Sandra Robinson, and parents Claron
and Sue Bailey. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-90194134667565513052014-04-04T23:00:00.000-04:002014-04-05T01:52:05.145-04:00Someone else's words explain it all....<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.1pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #878787; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-language: JA;">Final Notations</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #878787; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-language: JA;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.1pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #878787; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-language: JA;"><i>Adrienne
Rich</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.1pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #878787; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-language: JA;">it will not be simple, it will not be long it will
take little time, it will take all your thought it will take all your heart, it
will take all your breath it will be short, it will not be simple<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.1pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #878787; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-language: JA;">it will touch through your ribs, it will take all your
heart it will not be long, it will occupy your thought as a city is occupied,
as a bed is occupied it will take all your flesh, it will not be simple<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.1pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #878787; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-language: JA;">You are coming into us who cannot withstand you you are
coming into us who never wanted to withstand you you are taking parts of us
into places never planned you are going far away with pieces of our lives<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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not be simple, it will become your will</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #878787; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-language: JA;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #878787; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-language: JA;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #878787; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-language: JA;">*********************</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #878787; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Reading poetry has always been a pleasure for me and has become a profound source of comfort during a time of great distress. It has taught me something of the universal nature of sorrow and grief. I know God lives and loves me ; I find great strength in my faith but life is hard and difficult things happen that will break your heart and reshape it into a wholly different organ. While I work on my relationship to my Father and my Savior, who always watch over us, and whose presence I feel in my life, my soul acknowledges and responds to the depth of human emotions found in studying the artistic expressions birthed from the struggle of another on life's journey.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-30654312739627549682014-02-15T18:56:00.003-05:002014-02-23T20:42:49.722-05:00“Those who cannot conceive of Friendship as a substantive love but only as a disguise or elaboration of Eros betray the fact that they have never had a Friend.” ― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiihobDhxMCJWiW2ksYEPYVNIEl6WRuRAh7S7RwJdXeA3OzEtjB4D6AN3OZtkWmWjbKt7my9O-TIUhHQZnAaAMFvQbRbVBNLlFNoUn5Gq4Mm_U8kRGVdgcnjqnLe5wcFMbybp0IxYiMp0j4/s1600/boy+girl+friends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiihobDhxMCJWiW2ksYEPYVNIEl6WRuRAh7S7RwJdXeA3OzEtjB4D6AN3OZtkWmWjbKt7my9O-TIUhHQZnAaAMFvQbRbVBNLlFNoUn5Gq4Mm_U8kRGVdgcnjqnLe5wcFMbybp0IxYiMp0j4/s320/boy+girl+friends.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Henri J Nouwen wrote: <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: left;">When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GkiJVczYi8p0IiViJDpsm161b6upi7Hcvt5sK4-ExFKZ2_I_M_8sEUgkelZTmBCdXuur1LduYBbk0hzc-Mhn7xfuZfUNDCRi81pWdkUPliDj_Z6Z_8EXJNTBf6VQPMqx9QpiE9xSyB-Q/s1600/WP_20140111_003%255B2%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GkiJVczYi8p0IiViJDpsm161b6upi7Hcvt5sK4-ExFKZ2_I_M_8sEUgkelZTmBCdXuur1LduYBbk0hzc-Mhn7xfuZfUNDCRi81pWdkUPliDj_Z6Z_8EXJNTBf6VQPMqx9QpiE9xSyB-Q/s1600/WP_20140111_003%255B2%255D.jpg" height="223" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have been blessed to spend time over the past few months with some of those whom God has bestowed upon me as friends. It has been the best gift a loving Father could give for it has offered me love,laughter, and a reminder that it is necessary to make happy memories when we can and that kindness and generosity are not unique to one system of belief</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_dr0OXr6dLUuOzLiSSwwXwkAEHWIGn3jmTpymVHN3ucVtRpKNsmOyyFULmxOmez93ulnQxH_Eh0_q-SPXLUja30_t_9TViljq9s_3Em62SlTSdrpsT4O3A891sImZGp76AMMkoiODljE/s1600/Former+NYers+in+UT+getting+Indian+food+november+2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_dr0OXr6dLUuOzLiSSwwXwkAEHWIGn3jmTpymVHN3ucVtRpKNsmOyyFULmxOmez93ulnQxH_Eh0_q-SPXLUja30_t_9TViljq9s_3Em62SlTSdrpsT4O3A891sImZGp76AMMkoiODljE/s1600/Former+NYers+in+UT+getting+Indian+food+november+2013.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They have sacrificed time and money to be with me and catch up on the good ol' days and reminded me of how over the course of my life God has surrounded me with the people who would help me be a better person.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK3-G0wAG-03vQAiBaI51s00OcT1dk9YFBoCuJ3y35mCvkdMC5Une1uaB8_4hY93JFqlXPC4CEdJfkPSmgVsgYCUFtqrLYYpOfCtx_nS6IOBZrBeRXoub5bEgE1JoGJ9m4dwale3HYjnkE/s1600/WP_20140111_004%5B2%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK3-G0wAG-03vQAiBaI51s00OcT1dk9YFBoCuJ3y35mCvkdMC5Une1uaB8_4hY93JFqlXPC4CEdJfkPSmgVsgYCUFtqrLYYpOfCtx_nS6IOBZrBeRXoub5bEgE1JoGJ9m4dwale3HYjnkE/s1600/WP_20140111_004%5B2%5D.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They remind me of my roots and why I miss NY so dearly, but when I get homesick for them they also help me focus on my goals. And most importantly they love and accept me for who I am and where I am at and I know that because I have such wonderful people in my life that I am supported and lifted up during life's roughest moments.<br />
I Love being "just friends" with so many loving, caring, generous, open-hearted, and , frankly ,darn funny people. And although I don't have photos of all the friends who have saved my life in so many ways you are all embedded in my life.<br />
Thanks friends!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-41648438317760111742014-02-14T01:21:00.000-05:002014-02-14T01:42:46.564-05:00Happy Loser's Day, Sis.....<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><u>Coda</u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Jason Shinder</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And now I know what most deeply</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
connects us</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
after that summer so many years ago,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
and it isn't poetry, although it is poetry,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
and it isn't illness, although we have that in common,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
and it isn't gratitude for every moment, </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh20Sl3AfgoMVV09YcmE0WItr_SFgAOJRdZMU_bFQ14QBWHTI5YYYbEavfGLtKZ02AshxjdCVAUyt5q0pe_MvNaz35Ho1cVu1C17ALwm119ppo3lU6J0PZDOaMY56jb3o9-hf0CrcsX629E/s1600/London+Pics+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh20Sl3AfgoMVV09YcmE0WItr_SFgAOJRdZMU_bFQ14QBWHTI5YYYbEavfGLtKZ02AshxjdCVAUyt5q0pe_MvNaz35Ho1cVu1C17ALwm119ppo3lU6J0PZDOaMY56jb3o9-hf0CrcsX629E/s1600/London+Pics+005.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>even the terrifying ones, even the physical </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
pain,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
though we are grateful, and it isn't even death,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
though we are halfway through</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
it, or even the way you describe the magnificence</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
of being alive, catching a glimpse,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
in the store window, of your blowing hair</div>
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and chapped lips,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
though it is beautiful, it is; but it is</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
that you're my friend out here on the far reaches</div>
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<br /></div>
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of what humans can find out about each other</div>
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<br /></div>
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Today I celebrate my family: my parents who have devoted their lives to taking care of us and have the crucible like task of helping their daughter die, my brother who is there for every crisis and keeping us all connected, my sisters who are not likely to be all together again in this life, and especially my sister Danielle who has taught me how precious life is and that love is what matters most. Happy VD sis!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-81560385563956775652013-10-20T01:35:00.004-04:002013-10-20T01:35:32.899-04:00Doubt not, but be believing: a poetic introduction to a series of posts on faith and becoming...<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.5in;">
<b><span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">The Doubter's Prayer </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">by Anne Bronte</span></b><span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Eternal
Power, of earth and air!<br />
Unseen, yet seen in all around,<br />
Remote, but dwelling everywhere,<br />
Though silent, heard in every sound. <br />
If e'er thine ear in mercy bent,<br />
When wretched mortals cried to Thee,<br />
And if, indeed, Thy Son was sent,<br />
To save lost sinners such as me: <br />
<br />
Then hear me now, while, kneeling here,<br />
I lift to thee my heart and eye,<br />
And all my soul ascends in prayer,<br />
Oh, give me - give me Faith! I cry. <br />
<br />
Without some glimmering in my heart,<br />
I could not raise this fervent prayer;<br />
But, oh! a stronger light impart,<br />
And in Thy mercy fix it there. <br />
<br />
While Faith is with me, I am blest;<br />
It turns my darkest night to day;<br />
But while I clasp it to my breast,<br />
I often feel it slide away. <br />
<br />
Then, cold and dark, my spirit sinks,<br />
To see my light of life depart;<br />
And every fiend of Hell, methinks,<br />
Enjoys the anguish of my heart. <br />
<br />
What shall I do, if all my love,<br />
My hopes, my toil, are cast away,<br />
And if there be no God above,<br />
To hear and bless me when I pray? <br />
<br />
If this be vain delusion all,<br />
If death be an eternal sleep,<br />
And none can hear my secret call,<br />
Or see the silent tears I weep! <br />
<br />
Oh, help me, God! For thou alone<br />
Canst my distracted soul relieve;<br />
Forsake it not: it is thine own,<br />
Though weak, yet longing to believe. <br />
<br />
Oh, drive these cruel doubts away;<br />
And make me know, that Thou art God!<br />
A faith, that shines by night and day,<br />
Will lighten every earthly load. <br />
<br />
If I believe that Jesus died,<br />
And, waking, rose to reign above;<br />
Then surely Sorrow, Sin, and Pride,<br />
Must yield to Peace, and Hope, and Love. <br />
<br />
And all the blessed words He said<br />
Will strength and holy joy impart:<br />
A shield of safety o'er my head,<br />
A spring of comfort in my heart</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-8951647481647965232013-10-12T12:38:00.001-04:002013-10-12T13:04:22.799-04:00Last night I had this dream and it went something like this....<table align="CENTER" bgcolor="#ffffff" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody>
<tr><td>COME live with me and be my Love,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>And we will all the pleasures prove</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>That hills and valleys, dale and field,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>And all the craggy mountains yield.</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td>There will we sit upon the rocks</td><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3327801599334752576" name="5"><i> 5</i></a></td></tr>
<tr><td>And see the shepherds feed their flocks,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>By shallow rivers, to whose falls</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>Melodious birds sing madrigals.</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td>There will I make thee beds of roses</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>And a thousand fragrant posies,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3327801599334752576" name="10"><i> 10</i></a></td></tr>
<tr><td>A cap of flowers, and a kirtle</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td>A gown made of the finest wool</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>Which from our pretty lambs we pull,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>Fair linèd slippers for the cold,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3327801599334752576" name="15"><i> 15</i></a></td></tr>
<tr><td>With buckles of the purest gold.</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td>A belt of straw and ivy buds</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>With coral clasps and amber studs:</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>And if these pleasures may thee move,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>Come live with me and be my Love.</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3327801599334752576" name="20"><i> 20</i></a></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td>Thy silver dishes for thy meat</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>As precious as the gods do eat,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>Shall on an ivory table be</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>Prepared each day for thee and me.</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td>The shepherd swains shall dance and sing</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3327801599334752576" name="25"><i> 25</i></a></td></tr>
<tr><td>For thy delight each May-morning:</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>If these delights thy mind may move,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td>Then live with me and be my Love.<br />
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There is something alluring about the imagery provoked by Kit Marlowe in this verdant verse, a bucolic sweetness touching on a deeply felt passion. The gift of poetry lies in its capacity to extract from our innermost chambers those things which we most long to protect from the eyes of the world. For many years I have believed myself to be too sensible for passion and romance, that a keen mind and fine sense of humor are all that matter, but beautiful poetry has convinced my hard head that I have been hiding that which is most sensitive, protecting it from the mockery of the world because that is so often what the world has offered when I have worn my heart on my sleeve. But the truth I guard so indefatigably is nothing to be ashamed of, despite what my more practical sarcastic self tries to tell me, I am a romantic.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-82461496134672509042013-10-03T11:29:00.000-04:002013-10-03T11:29:32.391-04:00If I needed you would you come to me, would you come to me and ease my pain? If you needed me I would come to you, I would swim the seas for to ease your pain . ~ Townes Van Zandt<i>This is the conclusion to the previous post....</i><br />
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When dinner was finished I remained quiet as we moved on to discussing other things and opted to pick up dessert from a nearby bakery. My emotional state at this time was very much like the finch who slammed itself into a window and lay helpless on the cement walkway. My friends were kind enough to notice and accept this. At one point an arm was placed on my shoulder to reinforce support and awareness of my intensely vulnerable state. I am not one who tends to become quiet during debate and heated discussion, but the dinner conversation had touched on my innermost heartache, as ee cummings eloquently described, "the root of the root and the bud of the bud". I attempted to recover my spirits and when we had gotten dessert and decided to watch a dvd I decide I needed to stay and be a part of the world instead of fleeing and retreating into my own.<br />
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When we returned to our point of origin, being my friend's house where we would watch any of a number of movies on a regular basis, I split off from our group and went to place my delicious Italian leftovers in my car. It was dark out but for the undependable streetlight and from the corner of my eye I could see something fluttering and struggling in the gutter. All I could muster was a sort of wailing gasp because it was clear that this mysterious object was not a leaf or really an object at all, but a tiny bird that was unable to properly use its wings to lift off. There was no barrier that could have prevented the flood of grief that burst forth from my lips."Oh, it's dying" I whispered and one of my friends stopped in his tracks. As I watched this little life struggle and feebly attempt to coordinate it's wings in order to take flight my friend approached me with a look of concern on his face. When he asked me what was wrong,as I was clearly trembling and overwrought, I explained there was a tiny bird flapping around and dying in the street. And when he turned to discover where this helpless creature was the little bird was nowhere to be found. All I could think of was this poor bird, desperate and unable to get off the ground would shortly be devoured by either cat or the tires of an oncoming vehicle and I wept. What happened next I will never forget and will forever love this friend for. Sensing my need for comfort I was blessed with a friend who was able to provide a tender moment when comfort was given and received. Moving closer he embraced me warmly placing his hand on my head and gave me the sweet gift of letting me cry on his shoulder. As he spoke words of comfort to me I was able to quickly regain my sensibilities and we moved together towards the house. In that moment I was the bird standing defenseless in the street caught in a maelstrom of sorrows and uncertainties and I was rescued by a brief but pure moment of affection and solicitous care.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-87803334774630253252013-10-01T11:30:00.003-04:002013-10-01T11:39:33.752-04:00Two birds on a wire /One tries to fly away and the other /Watches him close from that wire/ He says he wants to as well but he is a liar/ I'll believe it all /There's nothing I won't understand /I'll believe it all I won't let go of your hand ~Regina SpektorThe building that I work in has reflective windows on the facade which means when, on stunningly gorgeous fall days like we have been having in Illinois recently, walking in and out of the building you are captured by the illusion that the azure sky continues on forever. While this is most assuredly an aesthetically enticing architectural technique it has an unsettling result by one of the main entrances into the facility. Every day for the last week when leaving work I have been stunned by the same phenomenon: the lifeless yet intact frames of several tiny birds lying on the cement walkway adjacent to the building. This circumstance was a result of these tiny creatures seeing the reflected sky in the windows of the building and flying head on into their own destruction. While this does bring to mind the significance of illusions and not being deceived by the ephemera and surface reflections the world has to offer, for me the first thing that came to mind each day I walked from the building and saw these poor frail lifeless birds strewn on the pavement was an emotional night several years ago where I was very much that poor frail bird butting its head against hard glass.<br />
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It was the fall of 2010 and I was basically a hot mess. I was in school full-time, working, and constantly worried about my sister who had recently been diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. My soul was decidedly beset by heightened emotions and uncertainty of what I could and should be doing to help my sister. This was a constant spiritual undercurrent for me back then and it was often present in my interactions with others. Such was the case one fall evening when after classes I went to dinner with friends. We decided on Italian (my comfort food of choice) and opted for a local place (because in NY there are many many local Italian restaurants) that I had never been to. I was myself and yet I was not myself. As we sat discussing this and that the topic of my sister came up and I felt my nerves pop and my heart quake. I was explaining how I was determined to help my sister raise money to pay for treatment and so I had decided to basically beg and cajole for help through social media. There was a slight pause in the conversation and one of my friends commented on how they had seen my postings and had discussed it with another Facebook friend who had been struck by the vehemence of my recent postings/pleadings. This began a most excruciating philosophical discussion over the "proper" way to get results in such a scenario. It was all very surgical, my heart being cut out quite efficiently in the process of a few general observations made over 3 or 4 minutes by the other member of our party. As the seconds progressed and the food arrived, my head leaned ever further downward as I played with my food and lost my voice. My eyes fogged up with hurt and uncertainty. In those minutes I felt like a trapped bird whose wings were unable to fulfill their purpose leaving me to look wildly for any means of escape. I could not speak much above a whisper in response to the questions being posed. It became obvious to those I was with that our companionable dinner had evolved into a painful autopsy of all of my recent actions regarding my sister and they thoughtfully changed conversational courses to ease my discomfort, and I was grateful.....<br />
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<i>stay tuned for what happened next and what I learned about tenderness....posting to follow later this week</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-54366998555298567442013-09-23T22:26:00.002-04:002013-09-23T22:32:50.008-04:00Slugs and snails are after me/ DDT keeps me happy/ Now I guess I'll have to tell 'em/ That I got no cerebellum/ Gonna get my Ph.D. I'm a teenage lobotomy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My freshman year of high school was a free fall beginning to a life long journey to discover the "me"ness of me. 8th grade had been, and to this date remains, on of the most damaging and painful years of my life. I still have a hard time contemplating being in a room with people who so enthusiastically pushed my sensitive soul the very boundaries of emotional security. After surviving 7th and 8th grade, 9th grade offered me an opportunity to expand my social circle and escape from the barbarity and insanity of adolescent kill-or-be killed socializing. Many of the girls my age were petty, dishonest, and driven by jealousy, and often those who weren't made decisions about their loyalty based on social necessity. The girls at church were no exception. And the boys...well let's just say just because they had figured out how to keep their hands to themselves by high school some of their mouths and minds needed to be washed out with good detergent.<br />
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Lies were told by and about me within the drama of freshman year survival of the fittest. As my circle of "friends" began to suffocate me I was blessed that a group of people were drawn to my independent, bull -headed, argumentative, sarcastic teenage self and they were all seniors. They found it curious that I had no interest in smoking or drinking and messing around was not my aim in hanging out with older guys. I was the "Mormon" girl who probably had eight mommies, who argued politics in the library at lunch and had no problem kneeing someone in the proper place to get them away from her. I was brash and angry and desperate to figure out how to be me without drawing so much malevolent or inappropriate and unwanted attention. This was the year that birthed within me a natural attraction for nerdy boys who liked to argue ideas and make the librarians threaten to kick us out of the library for being too rowdy and rowdy meant arguing about the Iran Contra hearings or Clarence Thomas confirmation hearings. These were the boys who allowed me to not always think of myself as a girl who was defined by her body but as a person who had a passionate mind and thirst to learn new things and debate ideas and to understand what was going on in the world and why that mattered. This was the year I joined a club that explored the birth of and philosophy of Marxism and socialism, I sang in the choir and played in the band, I joined Model United Nations, I cut school after my cousin died and became entangled in a mess of my own making. I discovered The Ramones, The Dead Milkmen, Erasure, Depeche Mode, ee cummings, and that hanging out in graveyards after school was something to look forward to. These were the things that made my freshman year worth looking back on and worth remembering. I did have a few girlfriends in my grade that managed to stay out of the drama and with whom I enjoyed a bond of friendship but after my senior friends graduated that year I lost myself until I was able to find true meaningful friends in the grade younger than me....and lost my heart to a boy named....<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-24057184577493415782013-09-14T20:19:00.000-04:002013-09-14T20:19:18.655-04:00Words of love: How e.e. cummings taught me the intimacy of love<div class="tab-content active" id="poem-top" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px;">
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[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]</h1>
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<span class="author" style="background-color: white; color: #4d493f; display: inline-block; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase;">BY <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/e-e-cummings" style="color: #043d6e; outline: none; text-decoration: none;">E. E. CUMMINGS</a></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px;"></span><br />
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i carry your heart with me(i carry it in</div>
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my heart)i am never without it(anywhere</div>
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i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done</div>
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by only me is your doing,my darling)</div>
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i fear</div>
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no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want</div>
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no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)</div>
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and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant</div>
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and whatever a sun will always sing is you</div>
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here is the deepest secret nobody knows</div>
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(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud</div>
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and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows</div>
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higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)</div>
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and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart</div>
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i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-6102397054351509172013-09-11T23:00:00.000-04:002013-09-12T00:28:45.961-04:00I will follow you into the dark...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Today. I have not been doing a lot of thinking. I</div>
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have not been thinking of just the right words </div>
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that would describe what this day is and what</div>
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it was 12 years ago. </div>
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I miss my NY. </div>
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Lives have been lost, taken, and</div>
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given on and since this day 12 years ago and</div>
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today certain songs played on repeat cycle as </div>
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I tried not to remember what I felt </div>
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one beautiful September morning </div>
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and on that day every year since.</div>
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I pray for peace and love and comfort for all those who continue to suffer the vacuum of grief left by September 11, 2001</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-37305186417468258662013-07-06T16:59:00.001-04:002013-07-06T16:59:09.439-04:00The secret of change is to focus all of your energy,not on fighting the old, but on building the new. ~ SocratesI have been run to ground this week both physically and emotionally. Sunday, a day I look forward to with an abiding contentment, has been an unusual source of discontentment and discombobulation for the past two weeks. I haven't been in my right mind (if there is such a thing) for a few weeks with the monster storm of a sinus infection looming while I went about my daily business of working and sleeping. This past Monday physical and mental exhaustion came to a volcanic head when I fled my house in a state of sobbing so enormous I could have swam away. I share this story not to glorify my own woeful condition but to express my deep and abiding faith in the power of wonderful friendships bound by love and affection and the underlying hand of God in my life. I was feeling particularly sorry for myself on Monday, wondering what it is I was doing here in Illinois, so far from my major support and social network and what was I doing with my life that made coming to Illinois so important. I really had no answers in the moment; my head was encumbered by lethargic apathy and my soul was in no state to revive itself. There was no legitimate cause for such anguish other than my peaked state. In retrospect, this emotional eruption had been bubbling beneath the surface for a few months and it was only now with my defenses all but demolished I would burst with an overwhelming sense of grief and uncertainty.<br />
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I made a seismic change in my life when I decided to come to Chicago. Before I emigrated I was looking forward to moving toward something, a new adventure perhaps. After settling in, I realized I had also moved away from so much of what has defined me as a person and given me so much joy over the past 13 years. I wasn't just leaving the heartaches and frustrations behind but the weekly lunches, dinners, and movies; the Sunday afternoon walks; the hanging out and laughing; the trips to Dunkin Donuts and delicious Italian food on a Saturday night. My heart overflows with gratitude and longing as I reflect on all the beautiful and good I left behind in New York. It was a midst this drama of illness that I discovered my heart is still in NY, the good , the bad, the ugly. I wept. And I yet weep. I needed to leave I am almost certain of that. Almost. But the knowledge that changes must be made does not make the experience an easy one.<br />
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It was in this state I called upon a friend I love immensely and who has managed to remind me of God's tender mercies at some of the most challenging moments of my adult life. Someone who despite finding his own happiness and hope in a bright future with a woman who loves him the way he deserves to be loved, made time to listen and advise and pray with me. We hadn't spoken in a while yet it was like we saw each other yesterday. That gave me great comfort. As he listened to my broken heart I remembered what it was like to be in his presence and laugh and talk about books and movies. And my mind slowly grasped this awe inspiring idea that I could still feel close to the people I love despite being thousands of miles away. And in that moment of profound struggle I could feel that person thousands of miles away sitting beside me in my car reminding me of how God is mindful of each one of us in our struggles as well as in our triumphs. That was what I had lost sight of. Through God, all things are possible. In that moment, He made it possible for me to feel the soothing presence of someone who knows and loves me for who I am. That was truly a tender mercy.<br />
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As my week has progressed and I have been able to rest and contemplate my experience since settling in Illinois I know I am meant to learn more about myself and particularly to learn to rely on the wisdom, protection, and love of God. That I have been blessed by Him with friends and family in NY that will continue to strengthen and uplift me and distance makes no difference. Maybe in coming to Chicago I will finally build and fortify the most important relationship of all, a divine one.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-91522289575687654752013-03-03T16:48:00.000-05:002013-03-03T17:17:59.019-05:00“Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.” ~ Helen Keller<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Cy3HFwHshqEHWm5ytSikkW8iHFNcLEqRDKZve-9dQz00_SCJCdS5wsRP22Xt81dmILX1fEXTvXdOwUzfyEOSEph2g5NmusPENIvfQdvzl4JxCYLvi82gddsYtGaXCLSP-brFCCL5DbeV/s1600/Rut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Cy3HFwHshqEHWm5ytSikkW8iHFNcLEqRDKZve-9dQz00_SCJCdS5wsRP22Xt81dmILX1fEXTvXdOwUzfyEOSEph2g5NmusPENIvfQdvzl4JxCYLvi82gddsYtGaXCLSP-brFCCL5DbeV/s200/Rut.jpg" width="200" /></a>Sometime late last fall the thought struck me that I had become entrenched in the comfortability (yes I made up that word) of day to day life. Understanding that this stasis I found myself in inherently characterizes certain stages of life, mostly revolving around marriage, family, and career, I realized during this epiphany that I was living in a manner that was disingenuous to my post-graduation goals. It quickly became evident to me that I was the personification of the hamster running and moving but forever fixed in the same location. I am a self-proclaimed creature of habit and had easily fallen into a form of living that would not cause any real growth or achievement of personal ambitions. But it was comfortable and I was working and contributing to someone else's well-being. Running the same wheel each day, having my basic needs met by the circumstances of my situation offered me a security I find reassuring. This sense of security had lulled me into a state of in-action. I had obtained my goal of finishing my BA after years of hard work and sacrifice. Now what? It seemed so natural and was indeed quite easy to continue leading the same student lifestyle as when I was in school, hence the rut. In realizing the state I was in, an awareness enhanced by a development of what thankfully ended up being minor health issues, I knew the time had come to summon up my adventurous side, burried way down deep beneath many a layer of ease and continuity, and shift my focus from living to get through school and this phase of my life to actually moving into the next phase. I passed through the transition phase without any signs of progress and so at the beginning of December 2012 I knew major change and a brand new adventure was what I needed to set my motivational fires ablaze. I needed to get off the wheel and out of the cage of security I lived in for more than 3 years in NY and start living the life I really want for my self. That is what my Chicago adventure is all aboutand Friday March 1 I took a step out of my well fortified comfort zone and did something I hope will contribute to a new and exciting life here in Illinois....to be continued. ;)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-7930256645078409482013-01-04T21:43:00.002-05:002013-01-04T21:46:46.948-05:00Sociological Reflections on High School: a media analysis of Glee<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><b>The following is a paper I wrote for a sociology class and I have been thinking alot about group dynamics and fitting in and the difference a close knit group of friends can make in one person's life...more on that topic to come.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
minority to be analyzed is the subordinate group in the high school environment.
More specifically: how can membership in a subordinate group perceived as
“bottom of the rung”, enhance the cohesiveness of that socially subordinate
group in the adolescent environment, and how does the subgroup attempt to
overcome the negative perception imposed on them? The hypothesis being that members
of a social group with specific goals, perceived as subordinate and influenced
by the social superiority of their peers will bond as a result of common social
maltreatment as well as common goals. The results of this study can provide an
understanding of the realistic ability for high school aged children to develop
healthy relationships despite their subordinate status within their social
environment and whether this idea is accurately represented in the media.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Literature Review <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> In addressing the concrete
definition and study of cohesion, Moody and White explain the ongoing issue of
cohesion this way:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “Although
questions about social cohesion lie at the core <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> of our
discipline, definitions are often vague and difficult <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> to
operationalize…Structural cohesion is defined as the <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> minimum
number of actors who, if removed from the group<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> would
disconnect the group…” (p. 103).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> In their study of peer relationships amongst high school
students the authors “show that network positions predicts school attachment”
and that the cohesiveness of such attachments is greatly shaped by the group
having a “status beyond any individual group member.” (Moody & White, pp
104,122)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Other studies look specifically at the influence of group
identity within the subordinate group status. In their study of the social
significance and cohesiveness of the high school musical groups, researchers
Adderley, Benz, & Kennedy found that the subgroups formed by these musical
organizations, “form subcultures of their own within the larger school setting
and that these subcultures prove to be important vehicles for support and
growth.” (Adderley, Benz, & Kennedy, p 191) Their interviews with students who
participated in such groups suggested that these students did so with multiple
benefits; most particularly an open classroom with a social environment leading
to a group which develops a structured sense of group identity. (p.200-201)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> According to Kinney (1993), studies involving high school,
as well as intergroup social interactions, have clearly shown how these social
relationships shaped the individuals view not only of themselves, but others as
well. Findings have been strong in supporting the belief that those who
actively participate in extracurricular activities were defined by a healthier
sense of self. (Kinney, 1993, p.22)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Methodology</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Because we are examining the representation of minorities
in media, particularly on television, content analysis is the most effective
form of research. My study involves the portrayal of the group dynamic within a
clearly defined subordinate high school group as represented by the Glee club
on Fox’s television show, <i>Glee.</i>
Although there are twelve episodes in which a pattern of cohesion becomes
well-developed, I have selected the first three episodes to represent the
parameters of my research.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Results<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Within the high
school world of <i>Glee</i> clear there is a
clearly defined social hierarchy as described by the cheerleading coach, Sue
Sylvester in the pilot episode.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <b>Sue</b>:
High school is a caste system, kids fall into certain slots. Your <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> jocks
and your popular kids, up in the penthouse; the invisibles and the<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
kids playing live-action druids and trolls out in the forest, bottom
floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <b>Will
Schuester</b>: And where do the Glee kids live?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <b>Sue</b>:
Sub-basement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
subgroup represented by the Glee club is slow going at first. It initially
collects the socially ostracized misfits: the overeager star, the closet drama
queen, the Asian punk rock chick, the paraplegic, and the African-American
diva. As the show progresses the viewpoint of the general school population
regarding the members of Glee club are evidenced by their blatant ridicule via
slushies to the face in the case of Rachel Berry or regular hurling into the
dumpster by football players in the case of Kurt. But peer bullying will
eventually extend to the more socially accepted students who join, like the
football quarterback, Finn Hudson, whose fellow teammates bombard him with
paint pellets once they find out he has joined Glee club. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As
the make connections through performing together the differences between them
take a back seat to their mutual goal. Initially intimidated and a little
afraid of Rachel’s aggressive behavior Finn tells her in Episode 2:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Finn</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">:
Well, when I first joined I thought you were kind of insane. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I mean, you talk a lot. More than you should. To be
honest with<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> you I looked under the bed, made sure you
weren’t hanging out<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> under there…but then I heard you sing…It
touched something in<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Despite the slushies to the face for Rachel, or being
called deep throat by fellow teammates for Finn, as he reveals in Episode 3,
the connection they make through music binds the growing Glee club together.
Through his membership in Glee, Finn withdraws from the typical high school
antics he was previously involved in like in Episode 1 when watches his
“buddies” swing Kurt into the dumpster. When Finn finally decides he is
committed to Glee at the end of the Pilot Episode he tells the other members, “I
don’t want to be the guy that just drives around throwing eggs at people….that
isn’t who I am…This is what I want to be doing, with you guys….We’re all here
for the same reason, because we want to be good at something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The growing cohesiveness and clear emotional
connectedness is clearly evidenced in two incidents in Episode 3. Although much
of this episode revolves around the attempts by Sue Sylvester and her
cheerleaders to thwart the success of the club by focusing on their need to win
at Regionals, the Glee kids rise above the desire to win at all costs when
their group dynamic is threatened by the overbearing choreographer they bring
in to improve their chances. When he tells Artie he is cut because he isn’t
trying hard enough to walk and a wheelchair is depressing, the group seems to
crumble. But as Dakota continues to ridicule the individual members for what he
perceives as their “flaws”, like Mercedes being too fat or Rachel needing a
nose job, the group led by Rachel decides he is unnecessary because, “…we don’t
need you…We’re going to win because we’re different, and that’s what makes us
special.” Who they are as a musical family is what makes them special<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The second scenario that exemplifies the cohesiveness
despite inner and external pressures is the ability Kurt finds to reveal that
he is gay to Mercedes. Although, it seems obvious to many in the group, it is
not until Mercedes takes an interest in him that Kurt is forced to admit it out
loud. Mercedes’s response models the bonds which hold this subordinate group
together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <b>Mercedes</b>:
You shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are,
Kurt. You <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
should just tell people, especially the kids in Glee. The whole <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> point
of the club is about expressing what’s really inside you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Discussion</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> While the show is certainly a generalized as well as
hyperbolic representation of the high school experience it allows for a strong
representation of what the research claims. That a school sponsored group where
teens participate with a shared goal and allowing for sincere personal
expression and social development can strengthen the bonds of that subordinate
group and allow them to buffer the day-to-day challenges of being allocated to the “sub-basement.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-52703337178258737142012-12-16T18:25:00.002-05:002012-12-16T18:25:32.308-05:00"And it came to pass that the God of heaven looked upon the residue of the people, and he wept; and Enoch bore record of it, saying: How is it that the heavens weep, and shed forth their tears as the rain upon the mountains? And Enoch said unto the Lord: How is it that thou canst weep, seeing thou art holy, and from all eternity to all eternity?... The Lord said unto Enoch: Behold these thy brethren..." Moses 7:28-29,32<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>No words exist to describe the events of December 14, 2012 only tears; God's tears mingled with ours</b></div>
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<h2>
</h2>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-24367271958979554572012-12-03T21:13:00.000-05:002013-01-30T18:09:17.279-05:00“The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.” Thomas Merton.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The time has come for a new and personal post. My mind seems to have spent much of the past 6 months blanketed in a haze of uncertainty and indecision. Combine that with the added influence of family conflict and health issues and I guess it would be fair to say I have been mentally and emotionally hibernating. But lying dormant has been this wellspring of curiosity about a fairly common and mysterious virtue: love. Recently, I have been perusing older journal entries and even blog posts and a type of self designed motif suddenly struck me when I came across the quote above.<br />
The unvarnished truth is I am a quantifiable disaster at loving people the way they are in such an open an accepting manner. I like boundaries and rules and mutual respect. The older I get the the clearer it becomes that this is a child's fantasy I have yet to exorcise. And yet I struggle to accept the notion that in order to truly love others we imply an acceptance of how they may treat us no matter how injurious and disrespectful. When one opens one's self up to others and becomes subject to their whims and capriciousness how far must one go to exemplify love and kindness? At what point does charity for others become more important than respect for self? How does one both love with total acceptance and maintain a sense of value for one's own needs? I will let you know if I ever find the answer....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-85513780509532190602012-08-24T21:48:00.001-04:002012-08-24T21:48:19.244-04:00The Philosophy of the Groundhog...<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">What
gives life meaning? What makes an individual life meaningful? What is the Good
life? How should we treat others? Do we have any control over our own lives or
is everything predetermined? What part does time play in all of this? What if
there was no tomorrow? All of these are questions which are addressed in some
form by director Harold Ramis’ 1993 comedy </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">Groundhog
Day.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">6:00
am on February 2 comes early and often for weatherman Phil Connors<i>. </i>Sent to Punxsutawney Pennsylvania to
report for the 4<sup>th</sup> year in a row on what is the country’s oldest
Groundhog Day celebration, cynical and snide Phil, played by Bill Murray is
surly and unpleasant towards his cameraman, Larry (Chris Elliot), producer, Rita (Andie MacDowell) and pretty
much everyone he comes in contact with. He is constantly acerbic and insincere
in his weather reporting as well as his social interactions. Phil is a man who
doesn’t like people, telling Rita and Larry on their drive to Punxsutawney,
that “People are morons.” After reporting half-heartedly on the Groundhog Day
ceremony Phil is desperate to get back to Pittsburg immediately but Mother Nature
has other plans. They get caught in an oncoming blizzard that Phil ironically
predicted would miss the area altogether and are forced back to Punxsutawney.
It is the next morning when Phil wakes up to the same song playing on the radio,
<i>I Got You Babe, </i>that he senses
something is not quite right. With a sense of déjà vu, asking the owner of the
B&B “Do you ever have déjà vu, Mrs. Lancaster?”Phil goes throughout the
first day recognizing a sense of familiarity with even the most mundane events.
But Phil is the only one aware of this and is clearly the focus of this
phenomenon. At the end of each day Phil heads back to his room ad wakes up the next
morning at 6:00 am to the same song playing on the radio. While any concept of
time progressing is nullified by the repetition of the day there is a clear
progression in Phil’s behavior as he begins to rack up the February 2s. Having been a man who saw himself as in his
way to bigger things there is an irony in the fact that he is now caught in
this pattern of waking up stuck in the same place. A place he is desperate to
escape; or at least he is desperate initially.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As
he accrues Groundhog Days the obviously self-imposed alienated Phil reminds us
of the groundhog celebration itself and we are the spectators wondering if he
will come out of the hole and see his shadow. It is awkward to watch such a
self-satisfied person turn to others to find a solution to his problem. First
he sees a medical doctor and then a psychologist to try and understand this
sense of helplessness in the face of an unexplained and unyielding time loop.
What is the point? And why this day? Exasperated by the inability to find answers
Phil looks for solace in the working man’s therapy, drinking at the local bowling
alley where he inquires of his fellow patrons “What would you do if you were
stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same? And nothing that you did
mattered?” Is Phil talking about his current circumstance or his life as a
whole? We get the idea that Phil’s dilemma is a more universal struggle when
one of the men at the bar responds “That about sums it up for me.” When Phil
decides these drinking buddies are too drunk to drive themselves home he is
inspired to take the first step in his philosophical journey when he asks them
what would they do if there was no tomorrow and they point out that if there is
no tomorrow there are no consequences and so they would do whatever they felt
inclined to do. This strikes a chord with Phil and so begins his life of
hedonism. He continues to pay little attention to the feelings and experiences
of those around him and decides to throw caution to the wind. When Rita sees
him chain smoking and eating a gluttonous meal she asks him why he does not
care about his health and quality of life and he responds “I don’t worry about
anything, anymore” as he stuffs pastry into his mouth. Rita is disgusted and
sums up the state of Phil’s character with a line from a Sir Walter Scott poem:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"The wretch, concentred all in self,</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">Living, shall forfeit fair renown,</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">And, doubly dying, shall go down</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Phil is a selfish self-centered person who will ultimately
live and die alone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As the Groundhog Days continue to accrue we
have no real sense of how much time conceptually has passed but Phil has become
familiar with the people and events of the town and the notion of living a life
led by impulse and satiating desires
begins to lose its shine. This is when he focuses his attention on Rita. And
yet he is still looking to gain something for himself without really looking to
himself for the solution to the problem at hand. He pursues Rita by adapting
himself to the type of man she would be attracted to a standard he learns by
repeating his interactions with her and extracting more information each time.
His purpose becomes wooing her by proving he is a man who meets her criteria.
But it is all flash and no substance. As the days continue to repeat themselves
Phil finds no real happiness in this façade as he wakes up the next morning to
the dreaded tune of <i>I Got You Babe</i>
and either the night before had ended with a slap in the face or with Rita gone
from his room. It seems in the disingenuousness of his existence has become
mechanical even while pursuing something that could ultimately contribute to
his happiness, like a meaningful relationship with Rita. Up to this point in
Phil’s journey to discover some redeeming kind of meaning and happiness in the
mechanical monotony of everyday life he has managed to accomplish the things
that fail to do so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">When he wakes up again on February 2<sup>nd</sup>
at 6:00am after all his hedonistic efforts Phil has moved on to the fatalistic attempts
to end this repetitive existence. As Rita and Larry watch in disbelief Phil
describes the town festivities for the camera in this way:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">This is pitiful. 1,000 people freezing their
butts off waiting to worship a rat. What a hype! Groundhog Day used to mean
something in this town. They used to pull the hog out and they used to eat it.
Your hypocrites, all of you! ...You want a prediction about the weather? You’re
asking the <i>wrong</i> Phil I’ll give you a
winter prediction. It’s gonna be cold. It’s gonna be gray. And it’s going to
last you for the rest of your life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">And the very next scene is a montage of Phil waking up and
smashing the clock radio to the sound of Sonny Cher. And his next news report
perfectly reflects Phil’s larger existential problem “there is no way this
winter is <i>ever</i> going to end as long
as this groundhog keeps seeing his shadow. He has to be stopped and <i>I</i> have to stop him”; meaning he cannot
take this life <i>any</i>more and the only
solution is to end it all. When Phil’s attempts at ending his life through a
variety a ways i.e. driving off a cliff with the groundhog at the wheel, diving
off a building, walking into oncoming traffic, and getting into the bath with a
toaster he is forced out of this philosophy of ending his existence as the
focus of his existence. We get to see the toll Phil’s journey of self-discovery
takes on Larry and more frequently Rita in moments shown on-screen by the
reactions they have to his behaviors. But the next day it is all fresh. Nothing
has happened yet. But not for Phil.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> It is
finally when Phil acknowledges the value in learning and improving himself by
taking piano lessons, ice sculpting lessons, avid reading, and learning about
the people around him in a more sincere and selfless. When he tells Rita that
he has killed himself so many times that he doesn’t even exist anymore she
tells him that having all this time on his hands could actually be a good
thing, how much he could accomplish with “eternity”. Even after he begins to
develop a real connection with Rita, it is not until he focuses on developing
himself and then using those skills and talents to improve the community i.e.
saving an ungrateful kid when he falls from a tree, changing the tire on a car
full of elderly women, saving the mayor from choking, and doing all in his
power to keep the old homeless man he ignored at the beginning of the film from
dying. It is only after Phil takes an active role in his life as well as the life
of others that he seems to enjoy life, as repetitive as it is, having made real
connections with people and placed a value on his relationships. This is when
he finally wakes up the next day with Rita by his side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Since this
movie came out in 1993 it has been one of my favorites. It is a masterful film
that forces us to take a look out the most basic philosophical issues of how to
be happy and what makes life worth living in a comedic and almost imperceptible
way. The theme of the groundhog seeing his shadow, a signal of 6 more weeks of
winter, is parallel to that of our desperate need for Phil to come out of his
hole of self-absorption and see that spring is on its way , that there is
meaning and happiness to be found in living; and we get that glimpse when in
his last Groundhog Day report on scene the once gloomy pessimist states,” When
Chekhov saw the long winter he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope.
Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing
here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their
hearths and hearts I couldn’t imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous
winter.” This Phil has finally discovered what it is to truly live.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-28262293825345610872012-07-19T22:08:00.001-04:002012-07-19T22:08:43.737-04:00“You don't get heaven or hell. Do you know the only reward you get for being batman? You get to be Batman.” - Neil Gaiman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNBew5vGFGs49lIUqSLmWAU63oR_1vX6VR3lrNZa-YXxjNBt_xMgFVH12kHgf-qt9oHGM7P602GsD4ItGbOuPvhyphenhypheng1IMx50eHyy3oHqexBKWdYRqnXTJfXq90eRVsbKenxeUlen8dC2Ac/s1600/batman+batgirl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNBew5vGFGs49lIUqSLmWAU63oR_1vX6VR3lrNZa-YXxjNBt_xMgFVH12kHgf-qt9oHGM7P602GsD4ItGbOuPvhyphenhypheng1IMx50eHyy3oHqexBKWdYRqnXTJfXq90eRVsbKenxeUlen8dC2Ac/s200/batman+batgirl.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsCHAQDr-Zbu_TWYdXk9twjGRFBZ2amhSvjhbjhzAtr-4xt08VQ_Ik49r1srLgkWG8TfQkmV99IJ2PIrBilH8_MSragxawQIndK_xkiIhoqRftohstZI5i0inEL56MdifG1G0pzXtLU2V/s1600/batman-superman-fight-the-dark-knight-returns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsCHAQDr-Zbu_TWYdXk9twjGRFBZ2amhSvjhbjhzAtr-4xt08VQ_Ik49r1srLgkWG8TfQkmV99IJ2PIrBilH8_MSragxawQIndK_xkiIhoqRftohstZI5i0inEL56MdifG1G0pzXtLU2V/s200/batman-superman-fight-the-dark-knight-returns.jpg" width="168" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNBew5vGFGs49lIUqSLmWAU63oR_1vX6VR3lrNZa-YXxjNBt_xMgFVH12kHgf-qt9oHGM7P602GsD4ItGbOuPvhyphenhypheng1IMx50eHyy3oHqexBKWdYRqnXTJfXq90eRVsbKenxeUlen8dC2Ac/s1600/batman+batgirl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; color: #444444;">I've been in love with Batman most of my life. It's true. If you ask my sisters what the best way to push my buttons was when I was little they would tell you about how they used to delight in tormenting me with their rendition of the theme song to the original Batman tv show with Adam West. It went something like this: nana nana nana nana </span><span style="color: #444444;">nana nana nana nana </span><span style="color: #444444;">Matman and Bobin. It drove me beserko. Did they not understand </span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; color: #444444;">my love for the caped crusader and a young girl's delight at seeing a strong female character as a superhero in the development of Barbara Gordon as Batgirl? Of course they didn't care about any of that! As teenage sisters their focus was on holding me down as they cracked the knuckles in my toes and tortured me with the mockery of their ridiculous "Matman and Bobin" theme song. It was the thought that motorcycle riding girls could fight crime and have a PhD in Library Science that helped me overlook the campy condescending spin the original television show put on the world of Bruce Wayne and his alter ego. But I always loved the characterization of this flawed human man who used his money to battle the Jokers and the Riddlers of the world. Not to mention tangling with the awesome Catwoman! Yet it wasn't until I started swallowing whole the tales of Bruce Wayne and the Caped Crusader from the mind of true geniuses like Frank Miller and Jeph Loeb that my heart was fully conquered. Batman/Bruce Wayne became this brilliantly flawed archetype damaged by the violent loss of his parents as a child and determined to save the soul of his city, perhaps attempting to save his own at the same time. He is a man who lives according to his own rules and will not be ruled by the whims of others. One of my favorite scenes in any Batman arc is the fight that occurs between Batman and Superman in Frank Miller's classic</span><i style="background-color: #fff2cc; color: #444444;"> The Dark Knight Returns</i><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; color: #444444;">. The scenes are told and drawn to depict raw emotion : anger, frustration, exhaustion. And for a human vs. alien battle Batman's intellect and skills manage to hold their own.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fff2cc; color: #444444;"> And then there is the mastermind that is Christopher Nolan. Can there be any other Batman story arc before or after his trilogy is complete? The rise and "fall" of a legend has never been more powerfully crafted into entertainment. I would defy George Lucas to tell such a compelling and powerful story in 3 films and then calling it a day. If Christopher Nolan is smart, and I think the evidence speaks for itself, he will leave his version of Gotham City as is at the end of this last film and give us the gift of seeing this Batman universe untainted by the Lucas effect. I have no doubt there will continue to be Batman movies but I hope DC and Warner have the good sense to shift the story and character of Batman in a way that is true to his inherently universal humanness. </span><br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-39484088995033060222012-07-10T20:42:00.001-04:002012-07-10T20:42:25.335-04:00The Art of Seclusion<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikcuFqDu0lr35ZBvSYYo6lzem0VkeT5BELBrigzZWUCiyDOvHPZDRs6FlbwdGq2unwtaOrcej8GksABFc97s3ZsasezQ-A909Bbo3rpg-xXev6yAVKpbxg5gCVHr0RusTkspiUpY8NXZQF/s320/Van+Goghs+Japanese+Garden.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="232" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vincen Van Gogh <b>Bride in the Rain </b>1887</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
Art of Seclusion: How the Age of Edo Came to Shape Western Art<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Throughout history the production of
art has been a means by which history can be understood. The arts often reflect
the very evolution of the social and political developments of any historical
period as well as being shaped by those very events; one might wonder why the
metamorphosis of art isn’t more readily used as a biography of the modern world
particularly in regards to the impact of major world cultures coming into
contact with one another on the world stage. Such is the case with the
development of art in the Edo Period of Japan, with its long period of
seclusion, and its impact on the trajectory of the art movement not only in
Japan but also in the Western world once contact was re-established in the
mid-nineteenth century<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">By
the late sixteenth century the ruling Ashikaga shogunate in Japan was losing
its political dominance. As the shogunate crumbled various daimyos and their
samurai battled to fill the growing power vacuum left by the weakened Ashikaga
rule. Civil war ensued, destabilizing Japan’s advancements in economic and
social arenas and returning it to a collection of independent feudal states
battling for dominance During this period, Oda Nobunaga , Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and
then Tokugawa Ieyasu began to
consolidate power over the various feudal states of Japan including areas left
untouched by Ashikaga authority (Murphey, 273).. While Nobunaga and then
Hideyoshi begin the drive to expand and centralize power it is Tokugawa Ieyasu who
defeats and unifies the numerous “rival factions” by the beginning of the 17<sup>th</sup>.
Ieyasu then moves the capital form the Ashikaga Kyoto to Edo, what is now Tokyo,
ushering in the Edo (Tokugawa) period (Arima, Medieval Culture). Yet however
victorious Tokugawa had been in defeating his rivals there was a deep-seated
concern about revolt, it was for this purpose a new form of political control
was implemented by means of land distribution. As Arima describes it:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Domains were allotted
according to whether the Daimyos had supported Ieyasu before his final victory
in1600. Those who had supported Ieyasu from the start (fudai) were allowed to
serve in the government; those who had surrendered only in the final battle
(tozama) were excluded.To try to preempt any revolution a system of control of
the samurai families was instituted.Strict rules of conduct, rules governing
marriage and construction of castles were also in place. The Daimyos were also
often shifted from one domain to another. (Arima, Merchant Culture)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> Reinforcing this rigid social structure was the “alternate
attendance system” known as Sankin Kotai which demanded the daimyos alternate
annually between a residence in Edo and their own homeland with the stipulation
that the families, particularly their wives and heirs, were to remain in Edo
permanently. With the expenses that would accrue in travel and living
arrangements for the daimyos as well as the overhanging hostage like situation
of their families there would be little political or financial resource to
revolt against the shogunate. The result of the financial hardship on the
feudal lords was their growing dependence on the merchant class for financing
which would be achieved through loans or even arranged marriages (Murphey,
275).</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
importance of Tokugawa Ieyasu on the development of a unified Japan cannot be
overstated. <span style="background: white; color: #303030;">Not only was he adept
as a leader in battle, “Ieyasu was a shrewd and calculating politician who
changed the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="background: white;">social<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #303030;"> </span></span><span style="color: #303030;">structure
of Japan, enabling him and his heirs to control the various factions. He
established a dynasty to ensure that the Tokugawa clan continued to rule long after
his death. He also supervised early diplomatic relations with Europeans and
passed an edict banning Christianity from Japanese shores”</span></span> (Katsushika Hokusai, What Was Japan Like
Then?). Tokugawa instituted a social order that would eventually give
rise to an influential merchant class. The stabilization of the political
structure would allow for the Japanese to flourish for the next two and a half
centuries despite its rigid social order.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> While the blending of daimyos and
wealthy merchant classes out of economic necessity and social ambition yielded
a kind of cultural unification of Japan the Tokugawa shogunate became more
leery of outside influences particularly that of Christian missionaries and
foreign traders. Concerned with maintaining the peace and stability they had
structured for their society, foreign influence became seen as a threat to the
country’s unity and order. By 1638 not only had Christian missionaries been
expelled as a state policy but so were all European traders. Western influence would
be extremely limited in the Edo period. Yet during this time of seclusion
Japan’s growth internally was impressive with increases in production and
commerce creating greater wealth for the merchant classes who would then align
themselves with cash poor feudal nobles. This accumulation of wealth allowed
for the rise of a bourgeoisie and an urban life full of arts and entertainment
for those with money (Murphey 277-278).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> While Tokugawa Japan was
characterized by a feudal social rigidity its economic growth gave opportunity
to the inferior classes in Edo society, the artisans and merchants. It was this
increasing “middle class” that drove the cultural revival pursuing and playing
off of old traditions to create a flourishing arts culture characterized by
kabuki theater, Geisha, literature and poetry, and sumo wrestling (Katsushika
Hokusai, The Edo Period). But it is important to remember that<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: 1.0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: #fafafa; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">In Japan's self-imposed
isolation, traditions of the past were revived and refined, and ultimately
parodied and transformed in the flourishing urban societies of Kyoto and Edo.
Restricted trade with Chinese and Dutch merchants was permitted in Nagasaki,
and it spurred development of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><a href="http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/jpor/hd_jpor.htm"><span style="background: #FAFAFA; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Japanese porcelain</span></a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> <span style="background: #FAFAFA;">and
provided an opening for<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><a href="http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/ming/hd_ming.htm"><span style="background: #FAFAFA; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Ming</span></a><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-color: #fafafa; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: #fafafa; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">literati culture to filter into artistic circles of
Kyoto and, later, Edo.( The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Edo Period)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: #fafafa; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The artistic boom of the
Edo period was a reworking of traditional arts along with the exposure to some
external influence particularly by Chinese culture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: #fafafa; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> As Murphey points out the culture of Edo is dominated by
the wealthy middle class who have the money and time to engage in social
amusements as well as supporting artistic endeavors. The “Floating World”
culture, “an amusement quarter of theaters, restaurants, bathhouses, and geisha
houses” become one of the favorite subjects represented in an increasingly
popular art form: the woodblock print.(Murphey, 280) .</span> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“</span><a href="http://hokusaionline.co.uk/code/ukiyo-e.html"><span style="background: white; color: #6d3427; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Ukiyo-e</span></a><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #303030; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> [i.e. woodblock] </span></span><span style="background: white; color: #303030; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">prints became the symbol of this new culture.
With their strong linear forms, complemented by flat areas of colour and
strange angles, ukiyo-e was some of the first massed produced art in the world,
giving normal people the chance to appreciate what had been until then the
domain of the rich and privilege”.(</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Katsushika Hokusai,
The Edo Period) <span style="background: #FAFAFA;">It is the popularity and distinctly Japanese
development of this artistic form that will shape the evolution of Western and
Modern art.</span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Tokugawa rule brought about peace and
prosperity and allowed for the production of an artistic golden age with the likes
of woodblock printmaker Hokusai producing such masterpieces as the <i>36 Views of Mount Fuji</i>. The greatest
master of this technique, Hokusai, produced aesthetically pleasing prints with
clean bold colors and simple lines. Although, Hokusai, died in 1849 prior to
the opening of Japan to the West just a few years later, his artistry would
make an indelible impression on both European and American artists (Murphey,
281).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx4iLwl4h1z3bqAySc71N2jr9ZAR8f3eKNmJJaNSf5VuKUp4cgzISuEjLxMb3JYQcLtsst-konfe-vIoWfdkR8gZg2VXqRUxChZ_xQkUBrTJoqe-uXJndVwuxBHo0mTiCh6A8lZPkZBPCN/s1600/Hokusai+Great+Wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx4iLwl4h1z3bqAySc71N2jr9ZAR8f3eKNmJJaNSf5VuKUp4cgzISuEjLxMb3JYQcLtsst-konfe-vIoWfdkR8gZg2VXqRUxChZ_xQkUBrTJoqe-uXJndVwuxBHo0mTiCh6A8lZPkZBPCN/s200/Hokusai+Great+Wave.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katsushika Hokusai <b> The Great Wave</b> 1830-1833</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Just as Japan is responding to the
show of force by Commodore Perry in 1853 by opening its doors to the Western
world, “Western art was, by the 1850’s in the doldrums, unable to find a way
forward” and it was just at this time that Japanese arts began to flood into
Western Europe, where it was viewed as a whole new way of reflecting the world
through a drastically different use of form and space (Checkland, 111). As
Lemaire describes it, the introduction of Japanese style into the Western
perspective caused a “profound change in the focus of aesthetic, with a taste
for things Japanese dominating from the 1860s onward…Europeans marveled at the
delicacy and sumptuousness of Japanese crafts and visual arts, and in
particular Japanese prints” (Lemaire, 282). This adoration of the arts of Japan
became more than just a fleeting interest in something new and exotic by
Western imperialists, japonisme became an “artistic movement” that found a
following by the likes of Manet, Monet, Van Gogh, Whistler, and Cassatt who
each found in it a means by which to question the rigidity and complexity of
form in Western art (Lemaire, 282). These artists in turn would revolutionize
the development of art and the traditional form of aesthetic standards in their
Impressionist, Post-Impressionist, and Expressionist movements.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The history of the world is often
written by the victors and as such we have often viewed the significance of the
Western world over those they sought to dominate as the focus of study but as
is evident in the rich history of Japanese art and society influence can be
found beyond political boundaries when looked at through a cultural lens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-87199786122465291942012-07-07T18:26:00.000-04:002013-01-30T18:10:09.154-05:00"Learning to trust is one of life's most difficult tasks" ~ Isaac Watts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Confession: I don't trust people, not completely anyway. When it comes right down to the indecorous truth I can count on one hand the people in my life I have trusted with the best and the worst of me. The sticky thing is that my ability to allow people past my very well designed iron gates of superficial interchanges has been hampered by the hostility and rejection offered by the world at large to a young girl who lived her life with her heart on her sleeve.</div>
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When you spend so much of your life recovering from the unkind even cruel responses to the essence of who you are the human psyche seems to develop an intangible type of portcullis to prevent the enemy from wandering in and laying waste to your inner sanctum.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1gyhsQ4_SaPrUlWZkan2_aVftw1N6ov10kbO3nBtuNgDaLMGpWj5n03KoFqU505mgUXJ-2wDoPikGMeTOeM5XT6OpNQmIq7ZQ6Ky6ar7-avrdVOQ1zoEQC3-PZ2w1h-hCUT7SchSQEI9/s1600/portucullis.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1gyhsQ4_SaPrUlWZkan2_aVftw1N6ov10kbO3nBtuNgDaLMGpWj5n03KoFqU505mgUXJ-2wDoPikGMeTOeM5XT6OpNQmIq7ZQ6Ky6ar7-avrdVOQ1zoEQC3-PZ2w1h-hCUT7SchSQEI9/s1600/portucullis.gif" /></a></div>
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Sitting on my friend's couch the other evening I blurted out a statement that I now see as a fundamental road block in developing a healthy relationship pattern with many people I know and some I may not yet know: I don't trust "people". I don't trust them with who I am and what I really think and feel. I don't trust them with the broken bits and the brilliant bits because throughout my life it has frequently come with a heavy price when I have shared any aspect of the ephemeral things that make me "me". I don't trust them to care for me as I do for them and really don't trust them to treat my Jenielleness as something special and so I keep the gate lowered. Occasionally, I have attempted to raise the bars but it has rarely been to allow for ease of access to my world more often it was for the purposes of becoming a testing ground. It is as if my inner warden says "well, we will open ourselves up just enough to see if this person is willing to crawl through this small space to see who we really are...and then perhaps we will put faith in their capacity to value our friendship."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjLoetdEa7Q9o0I-XO8Qf3Eggiw4T4oB5MZELWox7EcyhC_A1TdLtSKOVt4RZuaB0HGBZhw5ACc-vsnCeSYMgH52TRdmz6f11XkK1zWMDoWwrn9BdZq_RS3pyM4xrdn-UGrs2dT1fPNIfu/s1600/trust1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjLoetdEa7Q9o0I-XO8Qf3Eggiw4T4oB5MZELWox7EcyhC_A1TdLtSKOVt4RZuaB0HGBZhw5ACc-vsnCeSYMgH52TRdmz6f11XkK1zWMDoWwrn9BdZq_RS3pyM4xrdn-UGrs2dT1fPNIfu/s320/trust1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Without the willingness and ability to trust I know that relationships can never progress and we lose out on rich and meaningful experiences. If I am forever living confined within my own world without allowing entrance to unfamiliar people and things I am a bit fearful that those gates may actually rust and I may lose the ability to open up to anyone. But putting one's whole self out on display for the world to see or even just for the people around us to see, to care about the happiness and comfort of those who don't reciprocate, and even worse trample thoughtlessly on those things that define who you are makes trust a dangerous thing. No, I do not trust most people fully. But I do trust the ones who know me and love me and most importantly I trust completely in God who I know will help me be wise in who and how I trust.</div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-90187927023116758062012-07-06T19:46:00.001-04:002012-07-06T19:46:40.760-04:00"The greatest glory of a woman is to be least talked about by men."~ Pericles<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The study of
civilizations, with their rise and fall in world history, can be done through
the lens of many different schools of thought. The transition of Greece from
its influential Classical period through the dominance of Macedonia and
Alexander the Great and then spread of Greek culture throughout the
Mediterranean yields a ripe field of study for the disciplines of military
history, political history, and even art and cultural history. One field of
study that has lagged behind is the history of women and their lives as the
Greek civilization changed. While it is true the influence of the classical
Greek culture has shaped the political and cultural development of the Western
world it is in the age of Hellenism that the role women played in society became
not just subject of literary drama but real life drama as well. During
the Hellenistic period the identity of “woman” could, for the first time,
become more than what they had been relegated to previously, housewife or "hetaira"
(Pomeroy 89).<br />
To understand how the status
of Greek women may have shifted from the Classical period it is necessary to
first address the lives of women in the center of Greek culture, Athens. Gomme
describes the view of women during this period, thus: "...legally, socially,
and in general estimation women occupied a low place in Athens in the fifth and
fourth centuries.."(Gomme, 2). During this period Athenian culture had
been influenced by its Ionian neighbors. As Katz explains,"...under the
influence of neighboring peoples of Asia Minor, [Ionians] inaugurated the
exclusion of women from the public sphere and their confinement to the home and
to the company of female friends. The Athenians adopted the practice from their
fellow Ionians...Prostitution...sprang up as the inevitable corollary to the
seclusion of well-born women..."(Katz, 73). This seclusion of women to
their homes became a way of dividing and subordinating the female population to
either a possession of men as a wife to bear children and maintain their households
or the possession of men as a “female companion”, or hetaira. The division of
men and women into quite different spheres created a society where men had the
freedom of engaging in the public space while women’s space became more limited
and less significant. As Pomeroy points out “While men spent most of their day
in public arenas such as the marketplace and the gymnasium, respectable women
remained at home...residential quarters were dark, squalid, and
unsanitary" (Pomeroy, 79).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> The
few women who managed to claim the attention and respect of Athenian men were
usually hetaira, “escorts” of not only remarkable beauty but talent and
intelligence as well. Plutarch writes of one such woman, Aspasia. Consort to
the great Athenian ruler Pericles, Plutarch characterizes her influence in this
way:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">…
some say that Pericles resorted unto her, because she was a wise woman, and had
great understanding in matters of state and government. For Socrates himself
went to see her sometimes with his friends: and those that used her company
also brought their wives with them many times to hear her talk ... And to
Plato’s book entitled Menexenus … this story is written truly: that this
Aspasia was repaired unto by divers of Athenians, to learn the art of rhetoric
from her. (Plutarch, 161)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">While women like
Aspasia had great freedom to interact with a variety of Athenian men, and
sometimes even their wives, and held great influence in her social circle this
freedom was not one afforded to the Athenian housewife.<br />
The “free women” of Athens
were restricted to an inner life, lived for the most part within the inner
walls of their home to prevent them from coming into contact with men with whom
they were not related (Pomeroy, 81). There was no liberal education and
engagement in political and intellectual debate, like might have been seen in
Aspasia’s world. For the wives of Athens seclusion became codified as a
signifier of status. As Pomeroy explains<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Women
stayed home not only because their work did not allow them much chance to get
out but because of the influence of public opinion. Many families were likely
to own at least one female slave, but even a woman with slaves was tied down by
the demands of her household....Wealthier women were most likely to stay home
and send their slaves on errands. But poor women, lacking slaves, could not be
kept in seclusion ... (Pomeroy, 79-80)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The poorer a female was
the more range of freedom she had by sheer necessity to run her home and
survive economically, though the only women with any economic independence in
Athenian society were those who made their money through prostitution (Pomeroy,
91). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
irony of seclusion lies in its inverse relationship to the political structure
of Athens during the fifth century BCE. Katz notes that it actually became a
growing social norm “at just the time when democratic ideals of liberty were
institutionalized....Athenian men now turned to the company of hetairas
("female companions") for the female intellectual stimulation [they
could not find at home]" (Katz, 73). As men were establishing democratic
principles and engaging in political and philosophical debates that would
greatly influence the future of not just Athens but eventually the Western
world their wives were often being pushed inside and out of public engagement.
But political change in the mid fourth century will impact the lives of women
in an unexpected way, with the development of what will be known as
“Hellenistic queens”. These royal women would become major players in political
battles and intrigues often becoming both perpetrator and victim.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> While Athenians were crafting more democratic government
their Macedonian neighbors to the north were, “ hardly more than a geographical
expression, ...The kings of Macedon sat on uneasy thrones, their hold on power
and the unity of the kingdom itself repeatedly threatened by … invasions and
the intervention of various Greek states on behalf of rival Macedonian dynasts”
(</span><a href="about:blank"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">www.historians.org</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">).
It was under the leadership of Philip II from 359 to 336 BCE that
Macedonian power consolidated and began to expand across Greece
(www.historians.org). This shift in power brings with it a new type of power
player to the political scene: the mother who would be Queen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">One
such queen was Philip II’s wife and the mother of Alexander the Great,
Olympias. When Philip II was assassinated at his daughter’s wedding in 336 BCE
it was rumored that Olympias had been behind it. Because the assassin was
captured and killed there is no way to know for certain. However, “... She does
seem to have been responsible for killing Philip's last wife, Cleopatra and
their newborn baby... “as means of insuring her son, Alexander’s succession to
the throne as well as her own continued political security (Salisbury, 256). When
Alexander sets out to defeat the Persians and expand Macedonian power in the
Mediterranean in 338 BCE it is Olympias who “presided over the court in
Macedonia” in direct competition with Alexander’s “viceroy”, Antipater
(Pomeroy, 122).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In
a similar vein, Philip II’s daughter and Alexander’s half-sister, Cynane had
thoughts of who would succeed her half-brother, Alexander, upon his demise. Having
been raised to understand the "art" of battle she taught her
daughter, Eurydice, to seek power and they set their sights on a union for
Eurydice with one of Alexander’s “weak-minded” half-brothers who would most
likely be designated his successor. While their marriage goal was
attained Cynane was seen as a potential problem for her son-in-law and was
killed by one of his general’s. Meanwhile, Olympias viewed Eurydice’s power
play as a threat to her own security and eventually had both Eurydice and her
husband executed. In an ironic, if not self-perpetuated twist, Olympias was
also seen as a political threat by her opponent, Antipater’s son, and she too
would be put to death. (Sergeant, 16-17).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">These
two examples are just a few in a long line of Macedonian royal women who battle
for personal and political control, a unique development in a world where men
had been the political players up to this point. As Sanford illustrates
in regards to the Hellenistic queens following the death of Alexander the
Great, “Though they seldom ruled in their own right, they were often interested
in dynastic affairs and in Egypt sometimes ruled jointly with their
husbands...Greek women of the upper and middle classes naturally gained in
freedom through the example of courts, and their opportunity for education
increased. (Sanford, 308). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Some
of this freedom was a result of the shift away from the city-state and local
political power to the hegemony of Macedonian rule. As the identity of
citizenship and polis were reshaped by the cosmopolitan underpinnings of the
Hellenistic world the privilege gap between men and women also evolved. Dillon
and James explain this age, spanning from the rise of Macedonian power to the
conquest of the Mediterranean by Rome, as period which gave rise to a new
opportunity for Greek women with a burgeoning ability to obtain and use
economic power:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">A
new phenomenon appeared in this period, namely the political and public
prominence of specific elite women who exercised power in a number of ways
...These women need not have been royal and they perceived themselves as having
a right to take an active role in the lives, politics, and even wars of their
cities...Female public patronage began in this period, on many levels, from
helping individual citizens to paying public debts to providing important
public buildings. This pattern of female prominence and participation in public
life appeared throughout this cosmopolitan period. (Dillon, 229).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The era of political
transition of Greek city-state to Macedonian empire became a transition period
for Greek women as well. While full gender equality would not be a result of this
age of cosmopolitan attitudes the opportunity for women to hold power,
political or economic. and to use it was a great step forward from the life of
seclusion they were generally expected to live during the Classical period of
Greece.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-47512119874365028012012-06-30T16:02:00.001-04:002012-06-30T16:05:48.925-04:00“A friend can tell you things you don't want to tell yourself” ― Frances Ward Weller<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScSlGb5IOEOtGELOrOqVvMzdWHiQJ0eRPuqKbdI_pMTRm9RjPg4OGweocoGIpJVmnDcGp06tidz60Faj7shRGJ8bvWGj5mgXZiDFKmqXOU2I8xmXQ4iMhMXGAo5iapjzAOI_a5vt6I69f/s1600/Victorian+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScSlGb5IOEOtGELOrOqVvMzdWHiQJ0eRPuqKbdI_pMTRm9RjPg4OGweocoGIpJVmnDcGp06tidz60Faj7shRGJ8bvWGj5mgXZiDFKmqXOU2I8xmXQ4iMhMXGAo5iapjzAOI_a5vt6I69f/s200/Victorian+image.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglqZkYkolA1Pl4ounb1PXMZFxDbVhhvpBQXr9TwyGZeWSMqo1tXD-SedoIQ87xo72EoQm5M4C4asJA2zoW3i8n0EKcO8NAIZa1zQSnMgVOACD-aV2uEpqmNPwoPPdp0yBX-70aSzcMKVxF/s1600/vita+mix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglqZkYkolA1Pl4ounb1PXMZFxDbVhhvpBQXr9TwyGZeWSMqo1tXD-SedoIQ87xo72EoQm5M4C4asJA2zoW3i8n0EKcO8NAIZa1zQSnMgVOACD-aV2uEpqmNPwoPPdp0yBX-70aSzcMKVxF/s200/vita+mix.jpg" width="200" /></a> The best laid plans of mice and men are often the source of great amusement and frequently come to naught. Yet where would we be without any plans or goals to push us forward? What is needed, then, is the willpower and determination to accomplish such things as we have set out for ourselves to do. For 3 years I have spent hours reading, studying, listening, discussing, and writing writing and then more writing of papers. I have had fairly rigid deadlines and conferences at which to present, tests to cram for, and lab hours to complete. All of this required an unyielding schedule of tasks which could then be easily noted as completed successfully, unsuccessfully, or incomplete. Now that I have finished this stage of my education I have found myself lost in the fog emanating from the sweet release of educational pressures and anxieties. But thankfully I have wonderful family and loyal friends, one in particular, who have supported and encouraged me all along this odyssey of mine, and continue to do so. Thanks to some well timed and most certainly well deserved verbal kicks to my metaphorical behind by a caring and thoughtful person I am now ready to cut through the mental fog I have been lingering in as a result of the myriad of changes in my life and to push myself forward. Thank goodness for wise and brave friends. In light of this new phase in my life I think having some new goals or recommitting to past goals and then planning accordingly is the key to moving forward and being happy with who I am and where I am going. Could that direction change? Possibly. But moving forward is still moving no matter the direction you end up heading in. So I have decided that this summer, meaning the months of July through September I am going to challenge myself by pursuing several quantifiable goals:<br />
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<ol>
<li style="text-align: left;">Attend the Manhattan LDS Temple at least once a month. I find my head and heart get "reset" and I can function better when I make the decision and then act on it to spend some time in holy space.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Read good books including the LDS canon and schedule regular goals for reading the standard works including the Bible.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Set up and then follow through with a consistent study schedule for the GRE. My test date is August 8, 2012.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Complete my graduate school applications</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Return to healthy whole food eating habits including limiting my processed sugar intake and using my best investment, the Vitamix, to have healthy delicious snacks and meals.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">And last but not least......</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHr-lZnLHhtMgcvdPyXZEDLDBBTHR35WuOL3pOp5-9jk00zMgzgCfM_hTLfAuhvF3lACsQWDIyFVkbclzszkH5_P-fkN4Kui1idHWQm7CzoQqwu3wm-pPKXdToI0LIoyWX0Nl-s5BL0BX/s1600/10155-1_3_490x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHr-lZnLHhtMgcvdPyXZEDLDBBTHR35WuOL3pOp5-9jk00zMgzgCfM_hTLfAuhvF3lACsQWDIyFVkbclzszkH5_P-fkN4Kui1idHWQm7CzoQqwu3wm-pPKXdToI0LIoyWX0Nl-s5BL0BX/s200/10155-1_3_490x300.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
That's right. I have invested in a new pair of running shoes and will return to focusing on taking better care of what God has given me by pushing myself to increase my running ability and physical activity in general<br />
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Now that I have written this all out in a public space what choice do I have but to get going? Stay tuned for regular updates...<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-48224600543078363882012-06-19T00:14:00.000-04:002013-01-30T18:10:41.965-05:00"I am in a room I've built myself. Four straight walls, one floor, one ceiling and day after day I wake up feeling potentially lovely. Perpetually human. Suspended and open....Open up your eyes and then..." ~ Regina SpektorI'm having a dilemma. I am stuck and moving forward all at once. Words have failed me as of late and I have failed to use words as my normal means of therapy and self-analysis. The day I long awaited and dreaded has come and passed and it was was glorious and terrifying. And now this college graduate has stepped into the unstructured vastly uncertain unknown. There are plans to be made and new goals to work towards. Onward ho! Chicago or bust ?! I have returned to living life at the speed of an 85 year old without having lived 85 years worth of life and I look down to see my feet are stuck in dense dark mud. I know that God has a plan for my next stage but I am striving to accept what limited insight I have received into what my direction should be. There exists an underlying tension between what I want in the short term and what I want truly madly deeply in the long term and its a mighty struggle to not pull my feet out of this sludge and run in the other direction. On paper everything seems perfect, but in my heart and in my ponderings on the things of a spiritual nature there is a significant difference between what I want to do next and what God has planned for me. So the question is: how do I embrace with enthusiasm what I have had little excitement or interest in doing up to this point, even though I know it is what I need to do, must do, and will do?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3327801599334752576.post-1602439322552728912012-05-24T00:30:00.000-04:002012-05-25T18:33:34.738-04:00Living in Coldplay's Paradise<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvbpr28PcYolsMM4A6IyijLAXh6Cu23JvGPZxak2sR2q22IMpLgGPchZNC4s50WSrDea08LeofpK0J7h_mPjuxkGevPAKRgJEMbTNtYO9Bv0q7BVC36PJbBqDgp3G36M_vjZaoNsuVpkH/s1600/Jenielle+6th+grade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvbpr28PcYolsMM4A6IyijLAXh6Cu23JvGPZxak2sR2q22IMpLgGPchZNC4s50WSrDea08LeofpK0J7h_mPjuxkGevPAKRgJEMbTNtYO9Bv0q7BVC36PJbBqDgp3G36M_vjZaoNsuVpkH/s320/Jenielle+6th+grade.jpg" width="320" /></a>When she was just a girl<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She expected the world<o:p></o:p></div>
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But it flew away from her reach<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So she ran away in her sleep<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dreamed of para- para- paradise <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every time she closed her eyes<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When she was just a girl<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She expected the world<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpFqWSbVwkJGSgEb-sx7qs3bOsbCQk84-LFalb3dUmIs82DjDRXTq4z3Dl1i2iRBL0oLz2uxI1DLZC3_mFczXputZ3QsNnXCmptORuHT46nqzUyr4lqT1rIxoazeMWgEtvZd4YF1NhZP1/s1600/100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpFqWSbVwkJGSgEb-sx7qs3bOsbCQk84-LFalb3dUmIs82DjDRXTq4z3Dl1i2iRBL0oLz2uxI1DLZC3_mFczXputZ3QsNnXCmptORuHT46nqzUyr4lqT1rIxoazeMWgEtvZd4YF1NhZP1/s400/100.JPG" width="265" /></a>But it flew away from her reach<o:p></o:p></div>
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And the bullets catch in her teeth<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Life goes on<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It gets so heavy<o:p></o:p></div>
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The wheel breaks the butterfly<o:p></o:p></div>
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Every tear, a waterfall<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the night, the stormy night<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She closed her eyes <o:p></o:p></div>
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In the night, the stormy night<o:p></o:p></div>
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Away she'd fly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And dreamed of para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She dreamed of para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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La la la La<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/goingson/StarryNight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/goingson/StarryNight.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
La la la <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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So lying underneath those stormy skies.<o:p></o:p></div>
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She said oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I know the sun must set to rise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This could be para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This could be para- para- paradise<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04393346602030444436noreply@blogger.com0