Trip and I were discussing the Palin controversy last night, and the different opinions people -- particularly women -- have regarding a mother of 5 holding such a high powered and demanding position (not to mention the whole 17-year-old daughter being pregnant thing). We both learned something interesting from our conversation: Trip learned that her youngest child has Down syndrome; and I learned the term PFL, people-first language.
When I first told Trip about Palin's infant boy, I said, "she has a Down syndrome baby". Trip quickly corrected me, saying that with people-first language you should emphasize that they are a person first. The disability comes second. So I should have said, "she has a baby with Down syndrome". Wikipedia has a page dedicated to the topic (of course they do), with a very helpful table of examples.
Interesting tidbit I thought I'd pass along...
One more thing... I am not a fan of Palin, especially since she doesn't believe global warming is caused by humans, nor does she think polar bears should be listed as endangered (I can't even get my head around that one). But I do think she is entitled to a personal life, and conducting it as she chooses. I wouldn't make the same choices as her, but it's her life, let her live it.
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
"You've Made This Day a Special Day By Just Being You."
Trip just got home from a teacher's kick-off meeting and made me Google a video they showed. He said it was something I had to see.
He was right.
In 1969, Fred Rogers appeared before the United States Senate Subcommittee on Communications. His goal was to support funding for PBS and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, in response to significant proposed cuts by President Nixon. He passionately argues that alternative television programming like his Mister Rogers' Neighborhood helped encourage children to become happy and productive citizens, sometimes opposing less positive messages in media and in popular culture.
Watch in awe, as I did.
Just hearing his voice brought back memories of Rachel, Adam and I glued to the TV, watching the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. And what a voice -- the most heartfelt and pleasant voice I have ever, I will probably ever hear.
He was right.
In 1969, Fred Rogers appeared before the United States Senate Subcommittee on Communications. His goal was to support funding for PBS and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, in response to significant proposed cuts by President Nixon. He passionately argues that alternative television programming like his Mister Rogers' Neighborhood helped encourage children to become happy and productive citizens, sometimes opposing less positive messages in media and in popular culture.
Watch in awe, as I did.
Just hearing his voice brought back memories of Rachel, Adam and I glued to the TV, watching the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. And what a voice -- the most heartfelt and pleasant voice I have ever, I will probably ever hear.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
When Warming Is A Good Thing.
Diane Ackerman's book An Alchemy of Mind:
"We safely trade bits of self with loved ones all the time. Couples pick up some of each other's mannerisms, accents, habits, ideas. But we also absorb people in more visceral ways. When we pass along a flu or cold sore, for instance, viruses pack some of our proteins and lipids in the viral envelope and release them inside another person, who will store some in his or her lymph nodes. Retroviruses - such as AIDS, for instance - can install pieces of someone else's DNA in one's chromosomes. But we're probably swapping gene fragments with people all the time, imperceptibly, through infection and lovemaking because 'over the course of an intimate relationship, we collect a lot of pieces of someone else... Until one day what remains is truly and thoroughly a mosaic, a chimera - part man, part woman, part someone, part someone else.' Little by little, as bits of DNA make it to our chromosomes, intimate relationships help shape the immune system's cameo of us, and modify the brain, altering the self whose continuity we cherish. We don't just get under each other's skin, we absorb people. Everyone we've ever loved remains with us, and we're invisibly changed for having known them. That will make some people feel queasy, I suppose, but it warms me."
<sigh>
"We safely trade bits of self with loved ones all the time. Couples pick up some of each other's mannerisms, accents, habits, ideas. But we also absorb people in more visceral ways. When we pass along a flu or cold sore, for instance, viruses pack some of our proteins and lipids in the viral envelope and release them inside another person, who will store some in his or her lymph nodes. Retroviruses - such as AIDS, for instance - can install pieces of someone else's DNA in one's chromosomes. But we're probably swapping gene fragments with people all the time, imperceptibly, through infection and lovemaking because 'over the course of an intimate relationship, we collect a lot of pieces of someone else... Until one day what remains is truly and thoroughly a mosaic, a chimera - part man, part woman, part someone, part someone else.' Little by little, as bits of DNA make it to our chromosomes, intimate relationships help shape the immune system's cameo of us, and modify the brain, altering the self whose continuity we cherish. We don't just get under each other's skin, we absorb people. Everyone we've ever loved remains with us, and we're invisibly changed for having known them. That will make some people feel queasy, I suppose, but it warms me."
<sigh>
Friday, June 27, 2008
I Like Circles.
I mentioned yesterday that one of my courses this summer is Motion Graphics 2. Well my other course is my last Liberal Arts class, The Power of Signs: Semiotics & The Visual Arts. If you are a fan of my blog from back in the day (ummm... like last September), then you might remember me posting about the History of Aesthetics class quite a bit. Well this is the same professor, and once again he's got my little wheels a-turnin'. Last week our lecture was on The Preferential Shapes Test, and as interesting as biosemiotics may be (bio-huh?), this was actually something I thought others might be interested in.
From the lecture:
The "test" was created by Angeles Arrien, a cultural anthropologist and student of Joseph Campbell. Through cross-cultural study she identified five symbols that she says occur in art and decoration around the world with similar meanings. The five symbols are:
The five ranked positions also have meanings:
Plus any test that only compromises of drawing a few simple shapes is awesome in my book.
From the lecture:
The Preferential Shapes Test provides a window into individual experiences and needs, as well as clues to the direction of future growth. It is not intended as an index of character flaws. The processes revealed by the shape preferences are a part of everyone's experience. The potentials symbolized by each shape are present in everyone, although the shapes' expression within any individual is always unique.I'm not exactly sure I can reproduce the entire test here, as I Googled it and only got references to a book. So to ensure not getting sued or anything ridiculous like that, I'll just pimp the book instead.
The "test" was created by Angeles Arrien, a cultural anthropologist and student of Joseph Campbell. Through cross-cultural study she identified five symbols that she says occur in art and decoration around the world with similar meanings. The five symbols are:
- Circle - symbolizing wholeness
- Equidistant Cross - symbolizing relationship
- Spiral - symbolizing growth and change
- Square - symbolizing stability
- Triangle - symbolizing goals, dreams, and visions
The five ranked positions also have meanings:
- where you think you are
- your strengths
- where you really are
- your motivation
- what you are avoiding or in denial of
Plus any test that only compromises of drawing a few simple shapes is awesome in my book.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Today's Small Step: Forgive and Forget.
A few months ago I subscribed to the newsletter of one of my favorite Food Network stars, Ellie Krieger. She hosts a wonderful show called Healthy Living with Ellie Krieger, where she often cooks vegetarian dishes (although not entirely, she is the best option for a vegetarian that loves cooking shows).
The focus of the newsletter is mainly cooking and eating healthy, but she also writes about living a healthy life in general. This recent issue really resonated with me, so I thought I would pass it on.
The focus of the newsletter is mainly cooking and eating healthy, but she also writes about living a healthy life in general. This recent issue really resonated with me, so I thought I would pass it on.
The poet Alexander Pope said: "To err is human, to forgive divine." Medical research has shown that forgiveness is good for the heart as well as the soul. One study found that when people dwelled on slights from their past, their blood pressure, heart rate, and muscle tension all increased, indicating that their bodies were physically stressed when they were in an unforgiving state. Harboring a grudge or resentment against someone or something can only have a negative effect on your health. Forgiving someone can release this negative energy and positively affect how you feel. Today, I'd like you to perform an exercise in forgiveness.
Forgiving someone when he or she has hurt you can be extremely difficult. But true forgiveness can set the stage for a deeper relationship, help prevent disagreements about inconsequential things, and improve your health.
Many people find that writing a letter to the person who hurt them is helpful. So today, get out all your feelings and frustrations on paper. Pretend you're facing the person who hurt you, and tell him or her how you feel. Then rip the letter into tiny pieces or burn it to symbolize that you are putting the incident behind you permanently. (Alternatively, you can try talking to someone close to you about what happened — this may allow you to vent and gain perspective.) Then make a conscious effort to let the incident go — don't keep bringing it up. Dwelling on it, especially with the person you've forgiven, may prevent you from really forgiving and moving on.
Friday, October 5, 2007
I loved it so much I could never watch it again.
That dang History of Aesthetics class got me thinking again... This time about today's debates over representations of violence and evil. Of course video games is the topic that seems to come up the most, but then that leads to the discussion of art, literature and film. I guess I don't get why this is even an issue. Throughout history, masterpieces in both art and literature have focused on violence and the evil of humanity (Dante's The Divine Comedy, Picasso's Guernica). The beauty of human nature is that this duality exists, and that we recognize and challenge it. To show evil reminds us as to why being good and just is what we all seek, right? Just because technology has advanced in such a way that all this violence looks REAL, does that mean it should be censored?
I think today we see a lot more of the exploration of evil through film. And there are two films in my top 10 that fall into this category (both of violence and evil), that absolutely affected me - and yet I could never watch them again. Does that mean they should never have been made? Absolutely not. They had to me made. (Sorry... a lot of "absolutely"s. I guess I'm kinda passionate about this).
The first is Requiem for Dream. I watched this movie both horrified and captivated. It is a film about addictions, and forces the viewer to feel the pain, anguish and suffering that the characters go through. Literally. (I felt as if someone punched me in the stomach throughout most of the film). It was brilliant, brutal, intense and uncomfortable all at the same time. It's not until the ending credits roll (or even days after that) that you begin to see the beauty in such a dark, horrific story. Although I personally have never had an issue with addiction, I identified with the film in the sense that, it is through times of difficulty and despair that you truly find out who you really are. This movie is not for everyone, but it was a story that had to be told. And I can't imagine it being as powerful were it not as graphic and daring as it was.
The second film is The Green Mile (I realize this was a book first, but I haven't read it, so I can only speak to the film). It isn't often that a film is made of pure human emotion. That's the only way I can describe it. The story is told through the eyes of a man who experiences evil and violence within the walls of a 1930's prison. But in a world of cruelty and hate, he comes into contact with a truly GOOD man. I left this movie absolutely (there is is again!) heartbroken. It affected me in such a way that I cried when thinking of the characters for days afterwards. Like, tears. Streaming down my face. For days. An incredible film that I could never put my emotions through again.
Would I have been affected if these films were not as violent as they were? Doubt it. I needed to be put into those dark places - as harrowing as they were - to remind myself that even in the darkest moments of life, there is always hope.
And when you have someone like George Bush in power, hope is what gets you through the day.
I think today we see a lot more of the exploration of evil through film. And there are two films in my top 10 that fall into this category (both of violence and evil), that absolutely affected me - and yet I could never watch them again. Does that mean they should never have been made? Absolutely not. They had to me made. (Sorry... a lot of "absolutely"s. I guess I'm kinda passionate about this).
The first is Requiem for Dream. I watched this movie both horrified and captivated. It is a film about addictions, and forces the viewer to feel the pain, anguish and suffering that the characters go through. Literally. (I felt as if someone punched me in the stomach throughout most of the film). It was brilliant, brutal, intense and uncomfortable all at the same time. It's not until the ending credits roll (or even days after that) that you begin to see the beauty in such a dark, horrific story. Although I personally have never had an issue with addiction, I identified with the film in the sense that, it is through times of difficulty and despair that you truly find out who you really are. This movie is not for everyone, but it was a story that had to be told. And I can't imagine it being as powerful were it not as graphic and daring as it was.
The second film is The Green Mile (I realize this was a book first, but I haven't read it, so I can only speak to the film). It isn't often that a film is made of pure human emotion. That's the only way I can describe it. The story is told through the eyes of a man who experiences evil and violence within the walls of a 1930's prison. But in a world of cruelty and hate, he comes into contact with a truly GOOD man. I left this movie absolutely (there is is again!) heartbroken. It affected me in such a way that I cried when thinking of the characters for days afterwards. Like, tears. Streaming down my face. For days. An incredible film that I could never put my emotions through again.
Would I have been affected if these films were not as violent as they were? Doubt it. I needed to be put into those dark places - as harrowing as they were - to remind myself that even in the darkest moments of life, there is always hope.
And when you have someone like George Bush in power, hope is what gets you through the day.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Addicted to Pretty.
So if you know me, you know I like pretty things. I kinda obsess over it. And I'm trying really hard to curb my appetite. So a few minutes ago I was talking to my husband about the possibility of getting a new entertainment center. Yes. YES. Seriously, what is wrong with me?!? He had to remind me of the post I just wrote Sunday night for my History of Aesthetics course:
**********
I remember around this time last year coming across an article online in the New York Times about Annie Leibovitz's new book, "A Photographer's Life, 1990 - 2005". I have always been a fan of her celebrity photos in Rolling Stone and Vanity Fair, as well as her groundbreaking career as a female photographer, so was interested in reading about this new book's subject matter. I didn't actually know much about her life, and was sad to read that Susan Sontag, her long-time partner, died of leukemia in late 2004.
But what stuck with me all this time, what made makes me remember reading the article, was one particular photo of Leibovitz's. This is a photograph Leibovitz took of Sontag, post-mortem:
I believe two of the Five Reasons to Regard Beauty* apply to this image. First, because its existence is analogous to the good and the true it once symbolized. I think Kant's middle road aesthetic perspective is most fitting for this image, as I personally have conflicting thoughts. Part of me thinks this is image is a wonderful memorial to Sontag, completing Leibovitz's photographical chronicles of her life; part of me thinks that perhaps there is a story behind it that only Leibovitz and Sontag will ever know; part of me thinks that this image will touch someone else that has had a similar experience with the death of a loved one; and then there is part of me that thinks that the modern world has made death a bit taboo, and Leiboviz is showing us that Sontag will forever be beautiful to her - a perfect subject for a portrait - even at death.
I believe the second reason to regard this image as beautiful is, because is encourages a contemplative, appreciative, patient attitude in us and at least rebukes automatic recourse to appetitive desire. To be honest, at first look, I found this photograph really hard to look at. But it made me think, "why would she share such an intimate image of the woman she publicly proclaimed her love of, with the world?". I think Leibovitz's message, as layered and deep as it may be, is that through all of our desires to look picture-perfect, her love for Sontag and the woman that she was is the epitome of beauty. As someone that has made her fortune taking pictures of perfect, flawless, "beautiful" celebrities, with this image of Sontag, she is throwing all of those ideas of beauty out the window. She is telling us this is what beauty is. This woman that I loved, that has died before my eyes, is still beautiful even at death.
Changing gears for a moment, I also wanted to note that, Umberto Eco's passage from The History of Beauty really resonated with me:
"We can consider human beings to be most beautiful, even though we may not desire them sexually, or if we know that they can never be ours. But if we desire a human being (who might also be ugly) and yet cannot have the kind of relationship we desire with him or her, then we suffer."
I realized that all too often I have an inner conflict between appreciating beauty and desiring that which is beautiful. Last night I went to a dinner party at a friend's house who had a beautiful kitchen, something that have been wanting to redo in my home. I thought of this kitchen all night (sad, isn't it?), even frowning a bit at my own when I made my morning cup of tea. I said to my husband, "Their kitchen was amazing, wasn't it". And he responded, "Absolutely, it gave me some great ideas for ours whenever we get around to it." Not a bit of jealously in his voice, not the desire to rip the tile off the counter that very second (she says while whistling and looking around). Just an appreciation for a pretty kitchen. I know this story sounds pathetic, and trust me, its embarrassing to even admit it. I felt pretty teeny tiny.
I now I am reviewing the lecture, and reread Eco's quote. All too often I feel this need to feed my desires for the newest, the greatest, the best. I think both Eco and Leibovitz have taught me something very important. One, to be content with and appreciate being fortune enough to experience something beautiful; and two, to appreciate the beautiful things (family, friends, accomplishments) that I already have.
**********
Touché, Mr. Johnson. Touché.
*If you want to know these five reasons, you must pay the $1800 it cost me to take this course.
**********
I remember around this time last year coming across an article online in the New York Times about Annie Leibovitz's new book, "A Photographer's Life, 1990 - 2005". I have always been a fan of her celebrity photos in Rolling Stone and Vanity Fair, as well as her groundbreaking career as a female photographer, so was interested in reading about this new book's subject matter. I didn't actually know much about her life, and was sad to read that Susan Sontag, her long-time partner, died of leukemia in late 2004.
But what stuck with me all this time, what made makes me remember reading the article, was one particular photo of Leibovitz's. This is a photograph Leibovitz took of Sontag, post-mortem:
I believe two of the Five Reasons to Regard Beauty* apply to this image. First, because its existence is analogous to the good and the true it once symbolized. I think Kant's middle road aesthetic perspective is most fitting for this image, as I personally have conflicting thoughts. Part of me thinks this is image is a wonderful memorial to Sontag, completing Leibovitz's photographical chronicles of her life; part of me thinks that perhaps there is a story behind it that only Leibovitz and Sontag will ever know; part of me thinks that this image will touch someone else that has had a similar experience with the death of a loved one; and then there is part of me that thinks that the modern world has made death a bit taboo, and Leiboviz is showing us that Sontag will forever be beautiful to her - a perfect subject for a portrait - even at death.
I believe the second reason to regard this image as beautiful is, because is encourages a contemplative, appreciative, patient attitude in us and at least rebukes automatic recourse to appetitive desire. To be honest, at first look, I found this photograph really hard to look at. But it made me think, "why would she share such an intimate image of the woman she publicly proclaimed her love of, with the world?". I think Leibovitz's message, as layered and deep as it may be, is that through all of our desires to look picture-perfect, her love for Sontag and the woman that she was is the epitome of beauty. As someone that has made her fortune taking pictures of perfect, flawless, "beautiful" celebrities, with this image of Sontag, she is throwing all of those ideas of beauty out the window. She is telling us this is what beauty is. This woman that I loved, that has died before my eyes, is still beautiful even at death.
Changing gears for a moment, I also wanted to note that, Umberto Eco's passage from The History of Beauty really resonated with me:
"We can consider human beings to be most beautiful, even though we may not desire them sexually, or if we know that they can never be ours. But if we desire a human being (who might also be ugly) and yet cannot have the kind of relationship we desire with him or her, then we suffer."
I realized that all too often I have an inner conflict between appreciating beauty and desiring that which is beautiful. Last night I went to a dinner party at a friend's house who had a beautiful kitchen, something that have been wanting to redo in my home. I thought of this kitchen all night (sad, isn't it?), even frowning a bit at my own when I made my morning cup of tea. I said to my husband, "Their kitchen was amazing, wasn't it". And he responded, "Absolutely, it gave me some great ideas for ours whenever we get around to it." Not a bit of jealously in his voice, not the desire to rip the tile off the counter that very second (she says while whistling and looking around). Just an appreciation for a pretty kitchen. I know this story sounds pathetic, and trust me, its embarrassing to even admit it. I felt pretty teeny tiny.
I now I am reviewing the lecture, and reread Eco's quote. All too often I feel this need to feed my desires for the newest, the greatest, the best. I think both Eco and Leibovitz have taught me something very important. One, to be content with and appreciate being fortune enough to experience something beautiful; and two, to appreciate the beautiful things (family, friends, accomplishments) that I already have.
**********
Touché, Mr. Johnson. Touché.
*If you want to know these five reasons, you must pay the $1800 it cost me to take this course.
Friday, September 21, 2007
It was inevitable wasn't it?
- I work for a company called BlogHer, so I kinda felt left out.
- I have insomnia, so this gives me something else to do rather than watch late night marathons of Rob & Big (don't get me wrong I love this show, but I've seen every episode a ba-gillion times).
- My family is funny so I know they will post comments that are much more entertaining than my own.
- Between working full-time (hour commute each way - yay!), going to art school, and maintaining a happy marriage, well why wouldn't I? Duh.
- I like to pass on helpful, interesting information.
There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance.
Oh word.
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