9 December, 2011

A few interesting diversions…

1.

Brilliant Paper and Book Art: the Edinburgh mystery sculptor’s works. I love the notes she leaves with her sculptures.  http://thisiscentralstation.co.uk/featured/mysterious-paper-sculptures/

2.

3.

Grad School Barbie: wondering where I went and why it takes me so long to upload photos? This is a pretty thorough answer. http://ceejandem.blogspot.com/2010/02/graduate-school-barbie-tm.html

4.

This, which I can’t explain in more words than just “YES.” http://selfpoptart.tumblr.com/

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2 December, 2011

Boston Photos for… a long time…

So, this is a tremendous upload. To save time and space, I’m going to post the past month and a half (!) of images as a gallery. My notes will be basically nonexistent, except on the really strange ones.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

 

And in case slideshows drive you bonkers:

2 December, 2011

Not dead, just snowed under by research!

So, two things: (1) I’m not dead. (2) I have been taking photos. I’m going to try to upload them later tonight– my desktop computer died, which means I lost a few digital paintings I was working on, and a lot of space to store images on. Uploading photos from my phone can become pretty time consuming, especially when you have a bajillion of them. So, sorry for the long silences– I promise to try to do better in the future.

22 October, 2011

Further Adventures, Further Proof that I Am Nocturnal

October 9: As most weekend days become in grad school, this was a beautiful day that I spent in my window seat reading.


October 10: No Parking Any Time…unless you’re a bike. I love the way my camera distorts light. Did you notice the car in the middle of the intersection? I also found a corner of the universe where everything was brown.

October 11: Owls + Peruvian gourd art = winner.

October 12: These are the same morning glories I photographed in the early morning. Despite their name, they are lovelier and more glorious in broad daylight.

October 13: Monsoon day.

October 14: the foliage has been a little bit disappointing, but I’ve also been spoiled by the Adirondacks, and the weather has been so schizophrenic lately in Boston that I understand nature’s hesitance to commit to anything dramatic at the moment. Also, another monsoon day, and another Friday spent in a library.

October 15: Boston Book Festival! 1st photo – Trinity Church, 2nd and 3rd – Old South Church, 4th – The Holy Church of Continual Caffeination (known to most as Starbucks.)

October 16: “Really, now, you named your company what?”

October 17: Because it’s important for you all to understand how much caffeine keeps me going.

October 18: Best surprise ever.

October 19: This is the Fiber Fort. It is followed by River Walk in Longwood. 🙂

October 20: Cosmetology props scare the crap out of me. Below is an instance of me creating narrative nonsensically. What do you do when you walk in out of the monsoon and there’s a row of umbrellas sitting on the floor below some perfectly good hooks? You hang yours on a hook and think about how it is a good umbrella, a warhorse among ponies, and has clearly kicked the asses of all the other umbrellas. Then you take a picture. Then you leave the umbrella on the hook, conducting a whimsical social experiment.

October 21: Sometimes I go out at night, where the lights are bright and the buildings are huge. Boylston, then Copley, although in real time these were in the opposite order. But that doesn’t matter much.

11 October, 2011

The More We Change…

We are at that point in the semester (called midterms) where I devolve into a disheveled mess (I am currently wearing a sweatshirt in what I am affectionately thinking of as “caveman style”– one arm free, one arm in, zipper about half way up to allow this oddity of fashion to happen.) Dishes are piling, readings are spiraling, and then I find an article that’s basically like a present hidden in the pile of psychoanalytic jargon I’m reading on Edgar Huntly.

In my heart of hearts I am a classicist, and I admit this like it’s a perverse, guilty pleasure. In a conversation with a Nice Fellow, we were talking about classics departments, and how it’s like they’re segregated. There is no Romanticism department. Classicists get routinely deported to their own department though. Granted, you could argue there’s a more interdisciplinary bent to Classics departments, but the same could totally be said for any other era of history and the way we study it.

Anyway, my inner Classicist was thrilled to get to read about Sumer and Egypt briefly today, and loved and demanded to share this sentence:

Also, as in the Mesopotamian system, hieroglyphs were the tools of an elite priesthood expert in medicine and magic. The scribes guarded and boasted of their technological secrets, with a zeal that rivals even Microsoft.

Scott B. Noegel “Text, Script, and Media.”

While I think Apple would be the more appropriate comparison to secret mongering, I love the comparison for its silliness.

That is all. More photos come weekend-time.

8 October, 2011

A tremendous number of photos…

Sorry for the mega-update. Busy things for busy people…I’ve been keeping up with my photos, though.

September 25: Reading day. Made myself a pot of tea and drank out of one of my green cut-glass teacups. This was basically the most exciting thing I did all day.

September 26: Sitting around and waiting for the T to show up… 

September 27: The bounty from my adventure up to Harvard to see Ed’s miniature book. Look how wee it is! The book ends were actually stone. Ed’s book is a printing of Monty Python’s “The Galaxy Song”, and I cried a little, which may have helped me not get my ass handed to me by the Houghton book cops when they almost caught me taking these illegal pictures. Anyway, the book is beautiful, and I feel tremendously fortunate to have studied with such a cool person.

September 28: TODAY I FOUND A BUNNY AND THE WORLD WAS FULL OF GOODNESS. THAT IS ALL.

September 29: Long shadows at the Reservoir Stop.

September 30: Through ancient wrought iron (maybe? I’m not a window aficionado) windows, right before the weather threw a tantrum; litter and reflections. 

October 1: Today we went to the MFA and found my Christmas present. It’s an Akkadian (if memory serves) DRINKING CUP. Shaped like a FIST. Presumably if you get pissed off with your drinking buddy after you’ve emptied it, you can put it on and BEAT HIM UP. There is nothing about this fist-cup that isn’t AWESOME. I will let you draw your own conclusions about the cutlery dispensers, now with multi-purpose spoons.

October 2: Early morning morning glories, and one sunflower that snuck in there like a gawky cousin in from the country.

October 3: Every so often Boston College’s architecture really baffles me. Here we have a building that is basically butted up against a rock face. WHAT?

October 4: Your basic shot of the T; the front window display of a bookstore that I don’t believe actually sells books; mass-exodus at the Reservoir stop. Rush hour commuters are bizarre– a huge flock of people in high heels and suits, tramping along the train tracks, headed for the street.

October 5: Emerson area, at night.

October 6: Tree bark is cool. Just look how many colors this wants to be. 😀

October 7: Here’s a troubling juxtaposition of images– a stained glass window at St. Mary’s, and then I discovered at a street sale in Cambridge that apparently Shatner wrote a series of sci-fi books. Which Shatner? William Shatner. That Shatner. I included his charmingly normal author photo to prove it. 

October 8: Today was (supposed to be, but I am an excellent procrastinator) a reading day. Because it was lovely I went outside to read. It’s tremendously hard to convince yourself to be productive when you’re starting a three day weekend…

 

 

27 September, 2011

Metaphor = APORIA

I try to limit the amount of super dense crap I put up on the internet, but this is too beautiful an analysis of the nature of metaphor to pass up sharing.

The rhetoric of metaphor is, after all, grounded in aporia. Metaphor, like its extension, allegory, is resorted to when the proper term is deemed inappropriate or unavailable and a non-proper term is inserted in its place–to the effect of a hovering validity which is held in suspense by the knowledge that the term is not the proper one. The paradox of the wrong term being the only appropriate or possible one accounts for the precariousness of metaphoric speech.

Hofmann, Klaus. “Keats’s Ode to a Grecian Urn.” Studies in Romanticism 45.2. Boston: 2006.

LOVE IT. I love the idea that the effectiveness of metaphor is the very knowledge that the image created through comparison is disparate from the object. It is the paradox of needing to draw weird comparisons to understand what is already understood that just screams Socratic aporia.

Aporia, incidentally, is not understood simply as the definition in the dictionary– an irresolvable internal contradiction in a text or argument– but also as the poignant Greek literal meaning: to be in a state of loss. Aporia is what the Socratic method reduces its “victims” to. A weird logical limbo, where the old understandings of a thing have been torn down. It is, literally, to “be at a loss.” Slack-jawed.

Metaphor as a state of aporia. LOVE. SO. MUCH.

 

24 September, 2011

American Slang, Inappropriate footwear, and Boston 365

I feel like an editorial note is needed about my photo-taking techniques. I basically want to point out that I have none. I don’t even use a “real camera” to take these– all of my photos are taken with my camera phone, pretty much while I’m walking (or standing around). Often I don’t even break stride while I line up a shot. The other thing is that I pick weird moments to take my photos. I pick moments when I’m alone, or on my way somewhere. This series is about me and this place, not the people in this place.

Also, this week kind of became “take pictures of my feet week.” I blame Diluvian.

September 19: Government Center, with a big blue sky– Quincy Market in the background. One of my students this week told me that what struck her the most the first time she came to America was how beautiful the blue sky was. This was followed by a shot at the Public Gardens (taken about 30 seconds before the swan bit the little girl, if anyone’s curious.)

September 20: Wearing sandals in inclement weather. I tried to take a picture while it was still raining, but by the time I got off the bus again it had finally stopped (dammit!)


September 21: One randomly interjected branch of autumn (I think the bird poop in Boston might be a little corrosive. Check out the holes in the leaves.)

September 22: Same tree as last week, further along in its reddening. I keep looking around at the green things everywhere in Boston, like I’m frantically trying to commit them to memory. Like I’ve never done a winter in the Northeast (in fact, I’ve never NOT done a winter in the Northeast.)

September 23: I AM SO CAFFEINATED AND IT IS AMAZING. FEAR ME, I NO LONGER STOP FOR BREATH WHEN TALKING (actually, not as scary as it looks. Tea bag mountain here took a few days to build.)

September 24: In the library someone spilled the paper assholes all over the floor. It was like carpet lice. Actually, at the time I was in full-on writer-brain mode, with no way to get to a writing place, and the paper assholes struck me as oddly whimsical and fantastic, which is why this picture was taken. This general stupidness is followed by me taking a rather dramatic shot of a statue on campus of the archangel Michael (being generally bad ass).

Now I’m going to actually do my readings for Monday, and drown myself in Erik Satie’s pretty, pretty music.

Until next time, love the blue sky, watch the leaves, and stay caffeinated.

18 September, 2011

Week two, check; Heraclitus and Big Brother and the Holding Company

Briefly, this week I attended part of a hermeneutics conference. Being that my knowledge of Gadamer is zilch, however, I respectfully bowed out after the first lecture. There was a salient crumb from the hour and a half I spent there, however– I was reminded of Heraclitus.

Heraclitus is remembered for his interest in logos— the word, reason, plan which drives and unites the universe, and for his doctrine of flux. All is in flux, ever changing– each instant we are in a different universe.

πάντα χωρεῖ καὶ οὐδὲν μένει” καὶ “δὶς ἐς τὸν αὐτὸν ποταμὸν οὐκ ἂν ἐμβαίης”
Panta chōrei kai ouden menei … kai … dis es ton auton potamon ouk an embaies
“Everything changes and nothing remains still …. and … you cannot step twice into the same stream”

–Heraclitus 402a, qtd. from wikipedia (because I don’t feel like cracking my ancient Greek philosophy books.)

In each moment the world is changed. Flux is constant; action now is different from action even a millisecond from now. Nothing is ever repeated. It’s a terrible beauty.

 

September 12: I found this beautiful oddity tacked to a telephone pole while attempting to find the grocery store (I realized about five seconds after snapping this that I was in fact walking the wrong way).

 

September 13: The leaves are starting to turn on campus and in the parks. This is outside of Gasson– expect indoor shots of the beautiful Gasson Hall later next week. There’s a poetry reading in there that’ll take me back in there in the coming days.

September 14: This week I embarked on the sacred quest for a Most Excellent Used Books Purveyor. I haven’t found a good, grungy one with dirt cheap books yet, but I did find Brookline Booksellers, which is wonderful, filled with books, knick-knacks, and all sorts of charming things. Like magnets. They also have the Jesus Shaves/Saves mug, which I NEEEEEEED.

Also, in the used book cellar, the far wall is “Mystery, Mystery, Mystery, More Mystery and Still More Mystery.”

September 15: My studies force me to have hermit days every so often, so here’s a tableau of hermit day #1 in this set: my book, and my snack bowl. It’s a beautiful green glass beauty that I got at a garage sale this summer for a dollar. Also, my proliferation of flags, which pretty much make flagging pages useless, given their overwhelming number.

 

September 16: There’s a beautiful patch of sunflowers on my walk to the T. I snapped this just as a car was zooming past. Flowers in motion.

September 17: I left the Copley library on Saturday needing coffee. Found this tri-corner wearing Godzilla demanding that I pahk the caaah in a  Starbucks. Love it, and Bostonians’ acute awareness that they talk silly. Because so many people who live here are college transplants like myself, however, you rarely hear the Boston accent.

This is in the Copley library. Each section of the hall I was sitting in had the name of a great thinker, artist, or writer carved and gilded below the coffered barrel vault ceiling (fear my art history jargon). WITHOUT LOOKING, I sat myself under Socrates. This is the kind of stuff that happens to me. Things chase me. Socrates is one of them.

September 18: another academic hermit day. This, by the way, is the view out my window into part of the playground/park/field that I live next to. I took a nap face-down in these pillows today instead of reading about reception history.

And, to round out a completely disjointed set of images and thoughts, Janis and Big Brother Caterpillering. ❤

 

12 September, 2011

Adventures on the Internet: Knite

Realizing that the guy in my photo had a card stuck in his hat made me go read Lackadaisy, which inevitably collided me with something else rather lovely: Knite.

Yes. This is a full color comic, and it’s free, and every page is this breathtakingly beautiful.

 

Really, really gorgeous work. Three chapters done, with roughs for chapter four, as well. (Which you should read, because artist yuumei’s/Wenqing Yan’s commentary is hilarious.)

Chapter 1 Knite

You can check out the first three chapters and the omakes, as well as the roughs for chapter 4, by following the link above. It’s really a privilege to find talented artists who want, and make a conscious effort, to share and keep their stories free of charge.

Knite does have a publisher, 4DE. That website is here.