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In my final essay, one of the last lines of the letter to my father read, "God grant both of us the serenity, right?"When times are tough this is part of a prayer my dad and I keep in mind. It's our favorite prayer. You may have heard it before...The Serenity PrayerGod grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can;and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; Taking, as He did, this sinful worldas it is, not as I would have it; Trusting that He will make all things rightif I surrender to His Will;That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with HimForever in the next.Amen. --Reinhold Niebuhr I am strong in, but not obsessed with my faith. I may not always agree with or understand every sermon that is preached, but I still believe in a higher power. Simpley, when I find the time, I feel at peace when I praise God.
TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF - The Survey
Name: Aimee Joy
Birthday: 8/8/88Birthplace: Seattle, WA
Current Location: Bozeman, MT
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Dark brown
Height: 5' 5"
Right Handed or Left Handed: right
Your Heritage: Swedish
The Shoes You Wore Today: flip flops
Your Weakness: food
Your Fears: losing my family is one
Your Perfect Pizza: cheese. i know i'm boring.
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Buy myself a car.
Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger: haha
Thoughts First Waking Up: i dont wannaaaaa!
Your Bedtime: depends on what the day brings
Your Most Missed Memory: my sisters
Pepsi or Coke: coke
MacDonalds or Burger King: MacDonalds and their snack wraps!!
Single or Group Dates: for a first date~group
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: lipton (green tea with honey)
Chocolate or Vanilla: vanilla with berries for ice cream, chocolate any place else
Cappuccino or Coffee: machiatto~i loveeee starbucks!
Do you Smoke: nope~its hard on the ol lungs
Do you Swear: yep
Do you Sing: oh god yes!
Do you Shower Daily: daily
Have you Been in Love: am right now
Do you want to go to College: we here!!
Do you want to get Married: of course
Do you belive in yourself: when it all comes down to it, yes.Do you get Motion Sickness: when my step mom's behind the wheel
Do you think you are Attractive: depends
Are you a Health Freak: not really
Do you get along with your Parents: yep!~they're my buddies.Do you like Thunderstorms: they're fun to watch, for sure
Do you play an Instrument: i play a few tunes on the piano and clarinet
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: yeaIn the past month have you Smoked: nope
In the past month have you been on Drugs: nope
In the past month have you gone on a Date: yes!
In the past month have you gone to a Mall: its an addiction i have
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: no
In the past month have you eaten Sushi: i wish i could say i've eaten some california rolls.In the past month have you been on Stage: nope
In the past month have you been Dumped: nope
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: nope
In the past month have you Stolen Anything: nope
Ever been Drunk: yes. it's all for experience right?
Ever been called a Tease: hmmm
Ever been Beaten up: by my older brother
How do you want to Die: with a life well lived and a family well loved
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: still deciding i guess...
What country would you most like to Visit: Italy
In a Boy/Girl..
Favourite Eye Color: blue or light green
Favourite Hair Color: generally, i go for brown haired boys
Short or Long Hair: doesnt matter, unless it's too long
Height: a few inches taller than me is fine
Weight: whatever looks good
Best Clothing Style: anything put together well
Number of CDs I own: hardly any... i just listen to the radio.
Number of Piercings: 6
Number of Tattoos: 1
Number of things in my Past I Regret: several.
What a Warrior is…
A warrior is strength. Strength is a broad definition because it comes in many forms. It hides in the shadows of one’s secrets, it boisterously enters a room screaming its own name, it stifles and comforts weakness. How are you strong? My strength lies in my ability to love unconditionally, to love when hope is misplaced, to love those dear to me and myself. This is a strength many people cannot find in life. Thus, I am lucky.
Through love I know myself and recognize my feelings. With confidence I am able to voice my opinion and find exactly where I stand. In times when emotion seems to collapse my knees from under me, it doesn’t take long for me to find stability again. This is where my strength shines. Meet my strength in a letter I wrote to my father…
Dear Dad,
These are the things I couldn't say in our phone conversation because I was hurting too much to voice them. It's long...
Firstly, several people have not chosen their major in college yet. This is typical of freshman in college. I do not feel this is something to be ashamed in myself about as you apparently do.
Our family is not typical. Several things about it get me more down and out than you'd like to notice. This provided many emotional difficulties for me both this and last semester.
I apologize for failing you so badly last semester by dropping two classes. You do not get mad and get over it. Please don't rub salt in the wounds I've created for myself and beat myself up for every day.
If you’re concerned about the cost I see it as essentially, a waste of my own money. My understanding is you pay for the first two years of my college and one third of my fourth. After this point I will have to pay for any extra college myself. If that entails making up classes I failed to exceed in earlier on, it's my own fault and I will suffer the consequences. I will pay back those classes by having to pay for them again myself.
I appreciate you very much for paying for my college!! You don't have to believe that. Like I said before, if it is such an inconvenience for you and if you wish to continue to lay guilt trips on me about how Mom took so much money from you I will make it work to pay for my college myself. You don't have to believe that either.
I did not want Mom to take that money from you. You don't have to believe that. I don't know what she's been doing with the money. Hopefully, she's saving it to pay for the year of college she agreed to.
In having the same discussion about the legal battle between you and Mom that we've had many times before you laid a guilt trip that hurt almost more than anything. About a year ago you had said something along the lines that essentially its MY fault that Mom took you to court for living with her my senior year. This is a burn you had already laid on me AND apologized for previously. Don't apologize to me for something if it's not sincere. I'd much rather know how you really feel than be lied to.
It is NOT my fault Mom took that money from you. It is NOT my fault Mom took you to court. It is NOT my fault you are divorced. It is NOT my fault my life has constantly had to be a choice; you or the other depending on what I thought was most convenient for my stability at a particular time. It IS okay that I chose to live with Mom my senior year. It IS okay that that was my decision to make the most enjoyable senior year for myself, to graduate with some people I knew, not strangers.
I've had to protect my heart between you and Mom's trials and tribulations more than you will ever know Dad. While you've had some extremely tough times in your life, so have I. I've had to bounce back and fourth between homes that were broken in their own ways. I've HAD to choose one or the other and upset people in order to keep myself sane. Life is always changing. I believe in its changes I have done an efficient job, or the best I can, to keep good relations with all members of my immediate family.
While you may say I bounce back and forth between houses for the convenience of personal gain, I disagree. I believe I bounced back and forth for the same reasons you did Dad, to try and keep yourself and your family relations balanced. Some years you spent more time in Sidney, this broke my heart. Sometimes, I spent more time with you one year and Mom the next, this broke your heart. These are sacrifices we had to take while enduring our tragic, beautiful lifestyle. We understand this bit better than any other of the family members.
As you will never admit and will forever deny, it is reasonable at times for me to compare you to Mom and Mom to you. You are both my parents. For example, you are both alike in that many times you both still view me as your little girl. While I still depend on you for a lot, at some point you have to let me stand on my own two feet with a big financial decision as I wish to with this car. I plan on saving money for other things, but for now my first financial priority is buying myself a car; something I can take pride in and call 100% my own or my first big investment. Why I'm getting no support for this I don't understand.
I compare myself to Anneli in that we are both your daughters. To buy her a car, you proposed ultimatums; if she stuck to basketball and researched insurance. Before any of this child support/ legal business, I stuck to soccer and swimming, and would've been more than willing to research insurance. Sometimes, I feel as though because Anneli and Abby play basketball they get special treatment in relation to that. We all know how much you love the game. Several times, you have offered them potential rewards for sticking with basketball. Remind me, if I'm forgetting, any offered reward (as significant as a new car, when Anneli already has one) for being in soccer for twelve years, making it onto my high school swim team for two years, and my high school gymnastics team for one year. The fact that we were not BOTH presented with ultimatums IS unfair, as we are both your daughters and as the legal issues with Mom are, once again, NOT my fault. They are a product of almost any divorce.
Let's not forget the family financial issues spawn from MANY other past events, not just the legal issue with Mom, as significant as it is. "We could have been millionaires...,” you said, and most of this would've been avoided. None of my siblings were punished for avoidable financial fall backs within the family. Why should I be?
Ever since the family moved to Vashon and I went to college I feel as though I've been put on the back burner. I know we've discussed this before. I'm envious you are now able and make the effort to make it to so many of the girl's basketball games when I recall you being at ten of my soccer games in my life, if that. You probably went to one of my Inglemoor swim meets and weren't able to attend my only gymnastics meet for Inglemoor. I understand this was because we lived in two states and were constantly adjusting to being a separated family, but I can't help the fact that this still hurts.
I have your support financially; however, I'd much rather have it emotionally. I feel this is absent in our relationship lately. I know we've talked about this as well. When it comes to anything concerning how well I'm doing in school, it seems you are hesitant to congratulate me on even minor accomplishments and any mistake I make shadows an automatic financial issue. This puts the financial burden on me.
On an almost final note, I don't appreciate you making comments like, "If you save a dime this summer, which I doubt you will." It degrades me and assures me you have no faith in my independence. You having no faith in me at times breaks my heart, Dad as it breaks yours when I have no faith in you.
Isn't it a family's job to criticize or even insult one another? Further example: "It's OUR Christmas too, Aimee." I still can't explain how much that hurts. Unknowingly or not, it does segregate me as the step child. We should all do a better job of thinking before we speak. BOTH of us don't get mad or hurt and exactly get over it.
I've made a very conscious effort of thanking you more for all you do for me, whether you've noticed it or not. I am NOT selfish or spoiled. I AM grateful for everything I have. Just because I choose to voice my opinions or concerns does not change either of these things. You have not taught your children to sit back and keep their mouths shut when they feel passionate about something, certainly not between family. We are supposed to be honest with one another. Honesty to myself that I forward to you is not meant to be interpreted as disrespect to you Dad, as easy a misinterpretation as that is.
We are who we are. We're so alike in some ways and so different in others. In the ways we are alike, we butt heads more than in any other relationship in my life. Through my faults, I wish you would respect my opinion more, as I respect yours through your faults. I'm begging you to view my opinions in equal significance to that of Joyce and the kids'. They are one unit living a life together on a daily basis with you. Just because you are not here to see my struggles first hand and I am not there to see yours doesn't mean they don't exist. It doesn't mean I don't exist. It is much easier to argue a point when you have someone on your side, as Joyce and the kids do, however I don't. Please, remember I'm over here alone. I'm not asking to be bottle fed. I'm asking to matter to you anymore.
Don't view me as a failure. Don't view me as an inconvenience. I am your daughter. Inconvenience or daughter? There's a fine line between what to define any child as.
As my father, I am truly in love with you, Dad. Even when times are hard between us, I am my Daddy's girl.
I hope you read this with respect and love for me as your daughter. I hope you read this with an open, accepting mind to my opinions and emotions. That's all I can hope.
I love you forever and always.
God grant both of us the serenity right?
Your Aimee Joy.
Families all have their unique struggles. As far as my family’s struggles go, I think we’ve managed to hit every end of the spectrum. Within us we’ve had drug problems, tragic death, legal battles, arrest and irreconcilable debt. Our personal issues have been published on front pages of news papers and through it all, we’ve been a separated family.
Being a separated family was probably the hardest attribute to deal with. At times, when we needed a shoulder to cry on all we had was a phone to cry into. Without each other we’ve managed to stay with each other; we’ve maintained good relationships with on another. We love each other unconditionally.
While I don’t remember my parent’s divorce, I remember everything it has brought me in life. It has brought hardship, heartache, countless brawls, division, disagreement, and seemingly endless rivers of tears. What is more significant in life than our strife? Love. The divorce gave me three more siblings. The divorce gave me the best step mom a girl could ask for. The divorce gave me experience. The divorce gave me maturity and selflessness. The divorce gave me more love and life than I am sure I ever bargained for.
For the tremendous gifts I’ve gained. I wouldn’t have my life any other way. I know myself. I am strong in self and in family, for now. At times, when new challenges arise I may feel lost. When these times come, I have faith in my potential and faith in inevitable change. Optimistic prospect always lies just beyond that next door and beyond struggle lies strength to be gained. Thus, we’re all lucky.
Please don't continue reading if you do not enjoy the occasional horror flick or are easily unsettled...
The other night I had a horrible dream...
My father was murdered while staying in a mansion hotel for business. My gut told me it had been the act of a serial killer. My mother and I were called upon to view the damage, per say. When we got there it was late at night. The hotel manager lead us into my fathers room where his body was dismembered and hung tangled from a ceiling high four poster bed.
Flash...
For some reason my mom and I had three cars with us. To make sure we were not caught by the serial killer we checked to make sure none of the lights were on in the cars and we had all the keys. It was raining when we went outside to do this; your typical horror film plot.
Flash...
On the roof of the hotel, at the skylight above my father's four poster bed, a man is peering in. With a flat hand he hits the skylight once.
Flash...
I'm inside the hotel room alone. Directly after the man hit the skylight, tons of money fell from the ceiling as though resting on the skylight on the roof then suddenly falling on the inside.
Flash...
the money is gone.
Flash...
Later, which felt like the same night and the next day, when Hotel staff and forensics had cleaned up my dad's body my mother and I viewed the hotel room once more. Again, we were accompanied by the hotel manager. There were blood stains still on the sheets.
I woke up sickened.
This, in summation is the entirety of my dream. It was very unsettling and aweful. I never have dreams like this!!
I've had one other dream before where my father died when I was probably twelve years old. However, instead of being heartbreaking, gruesome, and unsettling, it was deep, sorrowful, and peaceful.
I entered into a white decorated room. It also had a four poster bed. There were red rose petals sprinkled across the bedding. This was supposed to be my father's room when he was alive. The room was musty and light reflected off of dust in the air. I walked to the bed side and my father's spirit appeared. He was there to say goodbye and that he loved me. I cried...I woke up crying.
Why did I have these dreams about my father dieing?
He is so important in my life, I love him so much. These dreams reflect one of my worst fears. I hate them.
In Waking Life, at the beginning of the film, the little girl with the fortune teller stated, "dream is destiny." I suppose it is everyone's destiny to die, but to see my father's death so blatantly displayed in a dream is not on my agenda.
I found out the next day when telling my mom about my dream that she had had a horrible dream too. She was with her two children, who didn't look like my brother or I, and they found a dismembered body in the bathtub. When trying to shove it into a plastic bag her son somehow accidentally ended up in the bag temporarily with the body.
My mom has not watched a horror movie in years!!
She has never had a dream that aweful!!
We had it on the same night and both woke up from them at five o'clock in the morning!!
What do connections like this mean?
I hear of books that tell you what your dreams mean. I wonder what they would say about what my mom and I experienced?
Some of my family members close friends compare my singing voice to that of Norah Jones. I take this as a HUGEEE complement because for many years now she's been one of my favorite artists. Here's one of her songs that hits close to home with me...
"In The Morning"
I can't stop myself from callin'
Callin' out your name
I can't stop myself from fallin'
Fallin' back again
In the mornin'
Baby in the afternoon
Dark like the shady corners
Inside a violin
Hot like to burn my lips
I know I can't win
In the mornin'
Baby in the afternoon
I tried to quit you but I'm too weak
Wakin' up without you I can hardly speak at all
My girlfriend tried to help me
To get you off my mind
She tried a little tea and sympathy
To get me to unwind
In the mornin'
Baby in the afternoon
Funny how my favorite shirt
Smells more like you than me
Bitter traces left behind
Stains no one can see
In the mornin'
Baby in the afternoon
You're gonna put me in an early grave
I know I'm your slave whenever you call
I can't stop myself from callin'
Callin' out your name
I can't stop myself from fallin'
Fallin' back again
Fallin' back again
Fallin' back again
Fallin' back again
Fallin' back again
Here’s a video of it…
Norah Jones performing with the Handsome Band.
Some of my other favorite artists include...
souls of mischief, green day, chemical brothers, coldplay, le tigre, the postal service, telepopmusik, incubus, darude, sex pistols, gorillaz, dave matthews, led zepplin, lynyrd skynyrd, Jimi Hendrix, doobie brothers, eagles, the doors, bob marley, norah jones, bad religion, black sabbath, AC/DC, beastie boys, nirvana, bone thugz, my chemical romance, foo fighters, mudvayne, slipknot, guns n' roses, chevelle, staind, aretha franklin, shinedown, seether, crossfade, brooke valentine, mike jones, ciara, the temptations, s.o.a.d., audioslave, tenacious d, whitesnake, warrant, deana carter, etta james, snoop dogg, godsmack, disturbed, korn, chaka khan, earth wind and fire, deirks bentley, keith urban, shania's old songs, faith hill, tim mcgraw, rascal flatts, miranda lambert, etc.
profanity...
versus art...
The first example of what is technically defined as "graffiti" is my idea of profanity. It is meant to exploit, offend, and degrade. However, for someone to define arts such as the second and third examples as profanity are, in my opinion, dillusional. While it is vandalism, thus can be classified as disrespectful, it is so beautiful and takes such talent that I feel it should be displayed. The question is, if graffiti artists were alloted designated space to resurrect their masterpieces would the appeal be lost? Some may act simply to be illegal. Personally, I find the legal loophole to be a good compromise between the artists and the objectors. At least, in some cases, this art would survive and offense would be avoided.
Affairs
Dawn: We have the young love that will never die…
Kane recalls this memory with Dawn; hears her voice so crisply reciting these words as if she were with him again. He ponders where Dawn’s love for him has burrowed within her.
Argument from a few months prior…
Dawn: Kane, you’re driving me crazy!!
Kane: I’m scared for you Dawn! What are you doing to yourself?
Dawn: I guess you could say I’m livin’ the dream… (Fades with a giggle).
Kane: This isn’t funny! I love you too much to have you let yourself go like this!
Dawn: Oh you think your love is going to change me, change my opinions!? You are so vain!
Kane: Please listen to me Dawn! Try to connect with me again…
Dawn: We are nothing like we used to be! I hate you! I hate you! (Shoving Kane towards her front door) You used to support me and love me no matter what! It’s over! It’s over! Don’t come running back ever! (Shoves him out the door) I don’t want you! It’s all your fault. (Slams door)
Both slump to the ground Kane on the doorstep, Dawn in her front hall. Neither hears the other cry.
Later that night, Dawn is alone in her dark bedroom. She waits for utter silence at her house. She sneaks to her closet grabs out one of her gym shoes. From a tear in the fabric under the tongue she pulls out a small bag and sets up a line.
The next morning after sleeping only an hour she awakens to her door slamming open against the wall.
Dawn’s Mother: (sniffling, she had clearly been crying) You need to come with me.
Dawn: Jesus mom! I’m tired. Where the hell are we going??
Dawn’s Mother: It’s a surprise… you need to come with me…
Dawn: Dude, no! We can go later. It’s like six thirty on a Saturday.
Dawn’s Mother: But it starts at seven. Dawn it’s really important to me…
Scowling and with reluctance, Dawn makes eye contact with her mom and follows out of bed, into the car without changing from her pajamas.
Kicking and screaming, Dawn is carried into a six month rehabilitation center. Dawn’s mom had received an informative call from Kane earlier that morning.
Letters came and came from Kane to Dawn. Each signed with “I love you…” Kane never saw one in return.
Kane anticipated the day Dawn would get out or re-hab from the day she went in. He couldn’t wait for her to be healed again, for them to be together again, and for everything to be the same as it was. This expectancy should be forgiven in Kane for it is a common misperception of newly ‘sober’ drug addicts. When the day came he called and called Dawn repeatedly and received no reply. Finally, Dawn’s mom answered the phone late in the afternoon.
Kane: Hi Marie! Is Dawn home yet? I wanted to take her out to a celebratory dinner!
Marie: Kane…um…I guess she’s not feeling quite up to it yet…
Kane: (A little disappointed, but always understanding.) Oh…Okay! Well tell her to call me whenever she is. No pressure!
Marie: I sure will Kane…bye…
Kane’s farewell is interrupted by an early “click” of the phone.
A week and a half passes and Kane receives no phone calls, no visits, no nothing from Dawn. Even in the middle of summer, with so much fun to distract him, he can’t stop thinking about her. He wonders how she is, how the program went, and how she’s changed. He wonders why she doesn’t want to see him. He supposes she just needs more time to heal, but can’t help his feelings of resentment.
All summer Kane heard nothing from Dawn. He got over it as best he could, but still spent much of his days thinking of her. His phone calls to her stopped after the third empty promise from Marie. Tomorrow, he would be back at school again, he would see her face again. This tore Kane’s nerves apart. For the first day of school, no longer was his priority to pick out the best outfit, catch up with acquaintances, or make a good impression on his teachers. All he wanted was to have at least a short, sweet conversation with his Dawn. The one he honestly vowed his heart to so long ago.
Back at school, Kane is distracted from keeping his eyes peeled for Dawn all day. Finally, he sees her across the courtyard at lunch. He stalls his conversation with his friend and starts to walk over to her. Then from behind a crowd he notices who her company is, who she’s talking so lightly and enjoyably with. It’s Chastity, the girl who got Dawn into all the drug mess in the first place and who had certainly not quit such awful behaviors herself. Again, Kane found himself scared for Dawn; he knew what this meant… Immediately, he finds out what “that crowd” is doing this weekend.
On his Friday night, Kane prepares himself for a night of confrontation. He departs to a party at Sunny Side, the trailer park on the bad side of town. Dawn will be there tonight. He parks his car, gets out, and heads for the door, taking his time all the while for his nerves. As he’s about to knock on the door, he hears a moan. It came from the darkness, the bushes on the side of the house. Curious, Kane takes a few steps in the direction of the noise. He expects to find some drunken idiot trying to pee and balance up against a wall all at once. A rather impossible task for the intoxicated…
Again the voice moans, and whispers something under their breath. With the sound of that subtle whisper Kane realizes it’s his Dawn. He runs towards the bushes kicking beer cans and branches aside. Behind the shrubbery lies Dawn. She is disheveled to say the least; bleeding from many pricks in her arm, splattered with mud and her own puke.
Kane swiftly sits her up and moves her hair from her face. “Dawn? Dawn?” he almost yells, trying to get some kind of response out of this limp human being. Her eyes are rolling back in her head. She is pale, almost purple. This is not the glowing, radiant girl he was once in love with. He picks her up panicked and thinking, “I need to get her to a hospital! I need to save her!” In his arms, Dawn gasps and exhales once with deep emotion. She has stopped breathing. There is no pulse. Kane stares into her blank face and collapses to his knees, holding her tighter now.
After his continued efforts to apply CPR, after some submerge from the party, after they scream, after the cops came, after the ambulance came, after his love was pronounced dead, after his whole world came crashing down on him, Kane cried. After he cried, he blamed himself. After he blamed himself…he shot himself.
My poem describes love with a man, but I believe love with family is a different thing entirely, with similarities. With family love is sure and forever with me. Love with a man is still unsure because I haven't experienced it yet for a lifetime. Love as a generilzation is undefined to me.
What is Love?
I gaze up at him,
a sparkle in my eye.
We glow.
I lay with him,
he pulls me in close.
Let go.
Our hearts near.
Stop beating...
Breath gone...
Death? No.
I laugh with him.
Only he knows.
We connect.
I cry with him.
Why do they hurt us?
Try to understand...
Continue...
I cry for him.
Why does he hurt me?
Try to understand...
I lay with him.
Is this lust?
To last is to know.
The interconnectivity of literature and life is known to be rather literal or rather metaphorical. In "Lost Book Found" from the notebook of entries we saw a very literal connection to life in that it documented places a person had been to and seen in life. However, as literal as it was, it still only made sense to the documentor. This is what was found to be rather poetic about the movie. In poetry, there tends to be a more metaphorical view of life. Words are woven and composed to have a lot of meaning while having no meaning at all. While some words can mean something to some it can mean nothing to others (as i stated in a previous blog). Poetry is more about finding what appeals to you and what the deeper meaning is to you, not the literal meaning or what it means to others. All literature though, whether poetic/ metaphorical or literal is significant.
Lost Book Found 37:00 1996
The result of over five years of Super-8 and 16mm filming on New York City streets, Lost Book Found melds documentary and narrative into a complex meditation on city life. The piece revolves around a mysterious notebook filled with obsessive listings of places, objects, and incidents. These listings serve as the key to a hidden city: a city of unconsidered geographies and layered artifacts—the relics of low-level capitalism and the debris of countless forgotten narratives. The project stems from the filmmaker's first job in New York—working as a pushcart vendor on Canal Street. As usual, Cohen shot in hundreds of locations using unobtrusive equipment and generally without any crew. Influenced by the work of Walter Benjamin, Cohen created "an archive of undirected shots and sounds, then set out to explore the boundary" between genres. During the process, Cohen said, "I found connections between the street vendor, Benjamin's 'flaneur', and my own work as an observer and collector of ephemeral street life.""Its beauty is quite ineffable. It's the sort of visual experience that transforms everything seen by the viewer for several hours afterward. . . What it actually does is capture the subconscious of the city itself, the dream state of the whole past existing in simultaneous disarray."—Luc Sante, Low Life and Evidence
Human Nature
Humanity has written of nature since the beginning of script. We’ve seen how a person stands in awe of nature’s massive mountains, finds peace in its silent serenity. From nature humans absorb power. Metaphorically they’ve compared it to trials and tribulations to help them understand life consequently making their self stronger. In the pieces we observed from class, Wallace Stevens’ “The Poem That Took the Place of a Mountain,” John Krakauer’s Into the Wild, Jorge Luis Borges’ “Break of Day” and The Circular Ruins lie strong examples of this. My question is how does each piece relate to man’s search for meaning? At times one becomes confused by society, reality, civilization. In their confusion comes doubt and need for a solution of sanity and meaning. Through all the pieces is a connection in that the characters’ search for meaning is the search for one’s self. Furthermore, how did each of the men turn to solitude and nature to solve their confusion?
Wallace Stevens focuses on relating nature to the goals he wishes to achieve in life or with his poetry career. Through nature he describes his struggles in life that confuse him and what elation he might feel when he reaches ‘the top of the mountain’ i.e. the peak desire for his goals. Line eight states "[He] shifted the rocks and picked his way among clouds,..." To me, this line described the sometimes tedious or strenuous work people have to put forth when making their way to their goals. Line twelve focused more on the rewards you reap from hard work. It stated, "Would discover, at last, the view toward which they had edged." This is the point when your ultimate destination is finally in sight and you begin to see your struggle was all worth it. With symbols of nature Stevens found hope; that his goals were within reach.
Similarly, John Krakauer describes how a young man, Chris McCandless, searches for hope and strength by isolating himself in nature. As unprepared and spontaneous Chris’ excursion was, I understand why he might make such a journey. I believe, based off his personal constitution (NHR, 12), Chris was searching for some purity in the world along with some meaning. After experiencing several hardships in his life, for example, his parent’s rocky relationship, Chris imagined a soul flight would present the perfect remedy for his distresses. He thought himself to be quiet ignorantly invincible, but when he died out in nature he was where he wanted to be; finding himself and at peace. Nature gave Chris a place of solitude where he could just think without any unnecessary distraction. Through solitude he rolled silent evaluation over in his mind and hopefully found what he was looking for. In building this goal, aided by nature and influenced by linguists, Chris also found strength.
In Break of Day we see Jorge Luis Borges question and doubt the concept of existence. Recalling the conjectures of “Shopenhauer and Berkeley” (line eleven), the speaker of the poem fears that life is nothing but a dream by souls. He ponders that sleep is a threat of extinction to this dream and assumes that those who stay up all night are the small percentage that are keeping life, as we know it, alive until day begins again. The break of day is the point when all is safe again; there is one more day to live. Overall in the poem I see the speaker confused about the meaning of survival. He wants to know how we all came to pass and how the infinite works. Obviously these are unanswerable questions so he turns to nature for answers. In his confusion, he sees that dawn has brought a new day and although he does not know the purpose of going on, he knows that the cycle of life inevitably continues. With this thought, through his unanswered questions, he continues as well.
Between The Circular Ruins and “Break of Day” I saw a lot of connections. Perhaps this is because both works were written by Borges. Equally characters in the stories seem to be lost amongst their dreams and reality. Also, both of them metaphorically and literally use nature to answer their questions.
In The Circular Ruins, the main character retreats to dream up his son; the man who will take on his place and magical talents in the world. Several times when he cannot sleep to dream he flees to the jungle to tire himself. Also, many times he seeks guidance and inspiration from animals and the elements. The strongest example of this in the piece is his dreams of the statue of the colt-tiger, Fire. Fire offers him advice in creating his son. However, when his son is finally conceived after one-thousand and one nights the main character suddenly believes something of his entire existence; “that he, too, was appearance that another man was dreaming.” I don’t think this epiphany was a question that was intended to be answered. The main character sort of stumbled upon it. It may have been the question fate had anticipated him to answer all along. With it new questions of existence arise and a new search for meaning is born for Borges’ character. Which inevitably leads one to believe that man’s search for meaning is quite possibly always changing and never absolute.
In further analysis, I saw this ending of The Circular Ruins to be closely related to the end for Chris McCandless. Where the magical character of The Circular Ruins realized he was a projection of another man’s dream, in many ways McCandless was so as well. Through his life he followed the words of many philosophers religiously. So much he actually chose to heed their preaching and do as they did; he headed out into the wild. An example of a theorist that McCandless respected was Henry David Thoreau. Thoreau reflected very much on simple living in natural surroundings. This was a dream of his and McCandless projected it. Maybe Chris realized this as the sorcerer of The Circular Ruins had, but when he proceeded back to civilization is when he realized the river had again filled with its melted winter waters. Knowing he could not cross Chris returned to his abandoned bus and just let go. He accepted his fate of death soon there after. Correspondingly, the sorcerer realized his fate and instead of “taking refuge in the water” chose fire and just let go.
What is man’s search for meaning? In Wallace Stevens’ “The Poem That Took the Place of a Mountain,” John Krakauer’s Into the Wild, Jorge Luis Borges’ “Break of Day” and The Circular Ruins their characters’ search for meaning is their search for self and the meaning of life. For answers, the men in each piece turned to nature. Through struggles, Wallace Stevens wanted to reach the top of his mountain or the peak of his goals. Chris McCandless wanted solitude from society and created it for himself deep in the woods of Alaska. Jorge Luis Borges found with each break of day existence continues and questioned what is the meaning of life when you are an appearance that another man is dreaming. With each man’s new discovery, new questions were provoked, concluding only some of their questions to be answered and only some meaning to be found. So, isn’t the meaning of life just to live? Where is the health in getting trapped to vicious cycles of questioning any purpose? Presume that man’s search for meaning is always changing and never conclusive; just live.
The metaphor is probably my favorite figure of speech to use in poetry. I believe you can say a lot with it with out saying anything at all. In other words, a line could mean a lot to you but nothing to others. This is a way I can hide my own secrets within my poetry.
In Break of Day we see Jorge Luis Borges question and doubt the concept of existence. Recalling the conjectures of “Shopenhauer and Berkeley” (line eleven), the speaker of the poem fears that life is nothing but a dream by souls. He ponders that sleep is a threat of extinction to this dream and assumes that those who stay up all night are the small percentage that are keeping life, as we know it, alive until day begins again. The break of day is the point when all is safe again; there is one more day to live.
Between The Circular Ruins and “Break of Day” I saw a lot of connections. Perhaps this is because both works were written by Borges. Equally characters in the stories seem to be lost amongst their dreams and reality.
In The Circular Ruins, the main character retreats to dream up his son; the man who will take on his place and magical talents in the world. Several times when he cannot sleep to dream he flees to the jungle to tire himself. However, when his son is finally conceived after one-thousand and one nights the main character suddenly believes something of his entire existence; “that he, too, was appearance that another man was dreaming.” I don’t think this epiphany was a question that was intended to be answered. The main character sort of stumbled upon it. It may have been the question fate had anticipated him to answer all along.
I found, the theme of The Poem That Took the Place of a Mountain to be a man metaphorically describing his goals/ dreams and the struggles it takes to reach them. Two lines that featured metaphors and are supportive of my interpretation of the poem are lines eight and twelve. Line eight states "[He] Shifted the rocks and picked his way among clouds,..." To me, this line described the sometimes tedious or strenuous work people have to put forth when making their way to their goals. Line twelve focused more on the rewards you reap from hard work. It stated, "Would discover, at last, the view toward which they had edged." This is the point when your ultimate destination is finally in sight and you begin to see your struggle was all worth it. The poem concludes with him imagining the elation he would feel once his goals are achieved.
