I've had a relaxing boxing-week. Not the least part of which perhaps lies in the fact that while away from the big city lights and excitement for a down-home Christmas I was thrust into the slew of despond (ie the land of dial-up). But rather than acting the way one would suspect (symptoms of withdrawal etc) this seemingly frustrating situation has contributed much, I believe, to my general feeling of satisfaction in accomplishing the ever-fleeting R&R that so many strive to attain.
A little strange that as soon as I leave that haven, rather than follow up my lesson about priorities I dive right back into the virtual world in order that I might communicate to all my readers the wonders of it all.
Perhaps it is merely that I am using technology's own weapons to subvert its message.
Or perhaps I'm just a sucker.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
how do you spend your time?
The mark of a true writer:
At painful times, when composition is impossible and reading is not enough, grammars and dictionaries are excellent for distraction.
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Friday, December 07, 2007
resting
By
Still
Waters
I like finding pictures that express my mood and here is one that fits with the fact that I am done with everything having to do with my courses from this past semester. Nothing on my mind. I can relax (if I can remember how).
I'm done like fried bacon!
I just don't smell as nice.
Nnow that I have a wealth of time to reflect on what I just passed through, here are a couple reflections on essay-writing:
I didn't think that I would ever admit to this but here it is: by the time I got into the groove of writing (and once my beloved internet was taken away from me) I actually found myself enjoying writing my essays. This is slightly comforting in light of possible theses concerning Masters programs and other such daunting stuff.
That brings up another thought: it is nice to be able to use words like 'thing' and 'stuff' now that I don't have to define and lay out logical arguments. Ah the bliss of ambiguosity (I don't care if that's a word or not).
My one regret is that I would have wished to have had the time to look over my papers before handing them in but I have lived without that luxury for quite some time now and suppose it'll be okay. It's one of those things that I have to think about the balance: will spending a bit of extra time on one aspect help the fiinished project to the same extent as spending that same time on another aspect? It's a different kind of thrift.
Nnow that I have a wealth of time to reflect on what I just passed through, here are a couple reflections on essay-writing:
I didn't think that I would ever admit to this but here it is: by the time I got into the groove of writing (and once my beloved internet was taken away from me) I actually found myself enjoying writing my essays. This is slightly comforting in light of possible theses concerning Masters programs and other such daunting stuff.
That brings up another thought: it is nice to be able to use words like 'thing' and 'stuff' now that I don't have to define and lay out logical arguments. Ah the bliss of ambiguosity (I don't care if that's a word or not).
My one regret is that I would have wished to have had the time to look over my papers before handing them in but I have lived without that luxury for quite some time now and suppose it'll be okay. It's one of those things that I have to think about the balance: will spending a bit of extra time on one aspect help the fiinished project to the same extent as spending that same time on another aspect? It's a different kind of thrift.
Monday, December 03, 2007
do I actually like lit?
I adore reading. Therefore I am an English major. That was my initial idea for chosing such a major for my studies. However, there are certain question and states of my being that cause me to question the straightforwardness of this equation. I have reached nothing conclusivly (in keeping with the uncertain nature of lit studies, of course) but will outline several lines of thought that have led me along this road.
I have come to enjoy class discussions and studying novels in a different way from the pure enjoyment I used to derive from reading. The enjoyment is often deepend with the various exercises we lit people put these books through. But this is not always the case, especially when the novel in question is one to which I hold a particular fondness. I occasionally find my favourites ruined and no longer recognizable after I have cut and snipped away and used them to support some one or other argument.
I often have the feeling that I would enjoy essays more were I to be the one to come up with the thought process to be set down on the paper and had I the time to give it serious thought. However, I use the subjunctive mood because this is one of those hypothetical cases where reality will never ever in my whole life meet together with these ideals. With this aspect, as with so many others in life, I have to take these ideals and make the best of the situation at hand.
As much as I enjoy studying books, as much as I have really enjoyed the focus on discussing the ideas behind the books and periods this year (as opposed to the information-supplying formation years) I still find that there is almost nothing like dissecting a book to ruin my enjoyment of it. Perhaps there is too much focus on the constituent parts above the whole [I know this is a re-hashing of the previous thought but it leads more fully into my following discussion of the dissection of poetry below].
Perhaps that is why I favour the dissection of poetry over novels; perhaps I don't expect to make friends with the poetry before cutting it up. Once it is cut up I usually understand it a little better but that is not so much the case with novels.
There is no real point to this post besides the search for meaning for some of the thoughts I've been having concerning my lit studies and why I am here... please ignore if you don't want to be bored. Except if you've read down to here, this warning is too late. Oh well.
I have come to enjoy class discussions and studying novels in a different way from the pure enjoyment I used to derive from reading. The enjoyment is often deepend with the various exercises we lit people put these books through. But this is not always the case, especially when the novel in question is one to which I hold a particular fondness. I occasionally find my favourites ruined and no longer recognizable after I have cut and snipped away and used them to support some one or other argument.
I often have the feeling that I would enjoy essays more were I to be the one to come up with the thought process to be set down on the paper and had I the time to give it serious thought. However, I use the subjunctive mood because this is one of those hypothetical cases where reality will never ever in my whole life meet together with these ideals. With this aspect, as with so many others in life, I have to take these ideals and make the best of the situation at hand.
As much as I enjoy studying books, as much as I have really enjoyed the focus on discussing the ideas behind the books and periods this year (as opposed to the information-supplying formation years) I still find that there is almost nothing like dissecting a book to ruin my enjoyment of it. Perhaps there is too much focus on the constituent parts above the whole [I know this is a re-hashing of the previous thought but it leads more fully into my following discussion of the dissection of poetry below].
Perhaps that is why I favour the dissection of poetry over novels; perhaps I don't expect to make friends with the poetry before cutting it up. Once it is cut up I usually understand it a little better but that is not so much the case with novels.
There is no real point to this post besides the search for meaning for some of the thoughts I've been having concerning my lit studies and why I am here... please ignore if you don't want to be bored. Except if you've read down to here, this warning is too late. Oh well.
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