I enjoy the concept of zombies and the idea of zombie movies.
I get scared very easily and find the only way to deal with the fear movies make is to walk - this makes going to the movies to see these films problematic to say the least. At home it's easy - during the scary bits I can walk into the hallway or quickly go into the kitchen to fill up my water glass.
But whats the fear in zombie movies - its contagion - the idea that once bitten you will become a zombie and becoming a zombie undead is very different from becoming a vampire. Vampires are sexy - zombies are just rotten flesh.
i think this says a lot about ideas of the afterlife. The vampire afterlife is full of learning and travel and sex - zombies just rot away!
Friday, January 22, 2010
I'm fascinated by lavatories
Perhaps it is the relationship we have with our wastes and with our bodies. Waste is secret , shameful business and in public situations we must defecate in gender separated area. I wonder how many people have the same informal gender separation in their own home - that with out anything being said - there is a male and a female toilet?
I remember when I began teaching and on teacher only day - before the kids arrived - one of the first things I did as I explored my classroom and environs was walk into the boy's toilet block.
It was scary and unfamilar and I felt wicked for being there.
Of course now I use the male toilets whenever there is a queue for the women's toilet.
That happened yesterday. I was collecting old rusty bottle tops from the car parking building and needed to go to the bathroom. The closest one is in the cafe over the alley so I went there.
The women's toilet was occupied so I walked into the male cubicle - there is only one of each in that cafe.
Again I noticed the difference of male space. I felt uncomfortable sitting on the seat - which is strange because I dont feel that way using the unisex bathroom at the movie theatre.
Another thought that arrived in the movie theatre bathroom - how strange is it males urinate in public and women don't. We are even shown images in movies of men urinating in groups - so there must be some social reason for that behaviour. Imagine if women did so and there were little cup urinals for women to perch on as they peed!
It seems to me the bathroom is a social female space - how many groups of women go to the bathroom in groups - but the act of urination for women is a hidden thing, in a way it is not for males!
Our taboos are unthought and readily accepted - so even in this society of ours that works so hard at equality there are divisions between sexes and groups we never pause to consider.
I remember when I began teaching and on teacher only day - before the kids arrived - one of the first things I did as I explored my classroom and environs was walk into the boy's toilet block.
It was scary and unfamilar and I felt wicked for being there.
Of course now I use the male toilets whenever there is a queue for the women's toilet.
That happened yesterday. I was collecting old rusty bottle tops from the car parking building and needed to go to the bathroom. The closest one is in the cafe over the alley so I went there.
The women's toilet was occupied so I walked into the male cubicle - there is only one of each in that cafe.
Again I noticed the difference of male space. I felt uncomfortable sitting on the seat - which is strange because I dont feel that way using the unisex bathroom at the movie theatre.
Another thought that arrived in the movie theatre bathroom - how strange is it males urinate in public and women don't. We are even shown images in movies of men urinating in groups - so there must be some social reason for that behaviour. Imagine if women did so and there were little cup urinals for women to perch on as they peed!
It seems to me the bathroom is a social female space - how many groups of women go to the bathroom in groups - but the act of urination for women is a hidden thing, in a way it is not for males!
Our taboos are unthought and readily accepted - so even in this society of ours that works so hard at equality there are divisions between sexes and groups we never pause to consider.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
First of the Old Blogs
And the only one I'm going to label as such.
Importing blogs is more difficult than I thought - I cant even cut and paste the text into here. Will need to ask more questions and explore more - unless I am to retype all my old posts
That would suck!
I wrote that in pink because pink sucks!!
Importing blogs is more difficult than I thought - I cant even cut and paste the text into here. Will need to ask more questions and explore more - unless I am to retype all my old posts
That would suck!
I wrote that in pink because pink sucks!!
Old Blogs
I used to use Myspace to blog and found using that space that I do love to blog.
It's a different process from journalling - and I'm not sure how it is different yet - perhaps the sense of audience is different.
In my journal 'I' and both creator and audience where as here there is an implied third person - a 'you'. Not sure if that entity is other or not yet but this is something to ponder.
What then is the difference between an audience which is self and one which is implied as 'you' when that is not specifically defined as other.
I'm going to start bringing over my blog bit by bit. Its like collage - I'm building a new image of myself here using things i have stored for later in another cupboard!
It's a different process from journalling - and I'm not sure how it is different yet - perhaps the sense of audience is different.
In my journal 'I' and both creator and audience where as here there is an implied third person - a 'you'. Not sure if that entity is other or not yet but this is something to ponder.
What then is the difference between an audience which is self and one which is implied as 'you' when that is not specifically defined as other.
I'm going to start bringing over my blog bit by bit. Its like collage - I'm building a new image of myself here using things i have stored for later in another cupboard!
Old Man at the Bookshop Yesterday
I went to readings yesterday http://www.readings.com.au/ its my favourite bookshop. I love it because its local, its not monolithic and because the people who work there obviously care about books and enjoy working with people which suggests to me they are paid well and treated with respect. I also love that they don't require a deposit when I order a book and that usually books I order arrive sooner than I was expecting.
I do love amazon but that's a scary place to visit with a credit card - I'm more in control in the face to face situation of real books!
My trip today was caused by listening to the book report on national Radio in the morning. there was an interview with Emmanuel Jal.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emmanuel_Jal He was a child soldier rescued by an aid worker and has become a rap artist and writer. He has a facebook page and is building a school at the moment. I was enthralled by his passion and his eloquence and his ability to reflect on his experiences.
It's a voyeuristic experience, I think, to listen to someone talk so clearly about the horrific experiences they have, not only endured but also used in a creative sense to recreate the world they wish to live in. I ordered his book War Child and his CD also entitled War Child.
While I was waiting for the charming man at the counter to find another book I wanted - entitled Warriors and a photo-essay of Indian warriors at the end of the 19th beginning of the 20th century.
The photographs in this book are extraordinary in their detail - old photos are created through stillness in a way modern photos are not and I believe this changes the experience of the observer - I'm not sure how yet - because Ive just thought that thought. But there is also the phenomena Barthes talks about in Camera Lucida - where information available to the observer but no to the person photographed or taking the photograph affects intensely the experience of looking. Again we - I mean me - are back to the voyeuristic experience!
The warrior book - which had been on the remainder table at Readings in Lygon street before Christmas seems to have disappeared and so i am going to have to hunt it down.
I wanted to give it to Rory - he is interested in warrior culture - as all young men are and I thought the images in this book would make an interesting counterpoint to the Maori warrior culture and the culture of moko.
Any way, and here we are at the point of this - at the counter was an older man. he was collecting a book for his wife and I listened to his exchange with the woman behind the counter - as I always listen to people talking. I cant remember his wife's name but it was at the end of the alphabet - 'z' or 'w' but I'm thinking 'z'. I looked at the book as it was placed in its paper bag and it was a copy of Graceling. I know this book.
http://www.houghtonmifflinbooks.com/hmhbooks/graceling/
I read it over a series of visits to Borders. Its a fantasy novel and I am very fond of fantasy!
The main character in this book is an assassin born with the extreme ability to kill with her bare hands.
I looked again at this older man collecting this particular book for his wife. he was wearing long cargo shorts belted tightly at the waist with his dark grey tee shirt firmly tucked into his pants. his hair was short and neatly combed. He carried a walking stick and wore sensible walking sandals and walked tall and strong, if a little slowly.
And I wondered about the inner life of the woman reading the book about the assassin.
I do love amazon but that's a scary place to visit with a credit card - I'm more in control in the face to face situation of real books!
My trip today was caused by listening to the book report on national Radio in the morning. there was an interview with Emmanuel Jal.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emmanuel_Jal He was a child soldier rescued by an aid worker and has become a rap artist and writer. He has a facebook page and is building a school at the moment. I was enthralled by his passion and his eloquence and his ability to reflect on his experiences.
It's a voyeuristic experience, I think, to listen to someone talk so clearly about the horrific experiences they have, not only endured but also used in a creative sense to recreate the world they wish to live in. I ordered his book War Child and his CD also entitled War Child.
While I was waiting for the charming man at the counter to find another book I wanted - entitled Warriors and a photo-essay of Indian warriors at the end of the 19th beginning of the 20th century.
The photographs in this book are extraordinary in their detail - old photos are created through stillness in a way modern photos are not and I believe this changes the experience of the observer - I'm not sure how yet - because Ive just thought that thought. But there is also the phenomena Barthes talks about in Camera Lucida - where information available to the observer but no to the person photographed or taking the photograph affects intensely the experience of looking. Again we - I mean me - are back to the voyeuristic experience!
The warrior book - which had been on the remainder table at Readings in Lygon street before Christmas seems to have disappeared and so i am going to have to hunt it down.
I wanted to give it to Rory - he is interested in warrior culture - as all young men are and I thought the images in this book would make an interesting counterpoint to the Maori warrior culture and the culture of moko.
Any way, and here we are at the point of this - at the counter was an older man. he was collecting a book for his wife and I listened to his exchange with the woman behind the counter - as I always listen to people talking. I cant remember his wife's name but it was at the end of the alphabet - 'z' or 'w' but I'm thinking 'z'. I looked at the book as it was placed in its paper bag and it was a copy of Graceling. I know this book.
http://www.houghtonmifflinbooks.com/hmhbooks/graceling/
I read it over a series of visits to Borders. Its a fantasy novel and I am very fond of fantasy!
The main character in this book is an assassin born with the extreme ability to kill with her bare hands.
I looked again at this older man collecting this particular book for his wife. he was wearing long cargo shorts belted tightly at the waist with his dark grey tee shirt firmly tucked into his pants. his hair was short and neatly combed. He carried a walking stick and wore sensible walking sandals and walked tall and strong, if a little slowly.
And I wondered about the inner life of the woman reading the book about the assassin.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Old Letters
I've been tidying my study - I tidy my study like some women diet - Ive been doing it for most of my adult life!
I have issues.
There's the issue of books - do I use the dewey system or do just alphabetical order; is fiction to be integrated or separated from nonfiction - and where do I stack the books I'm reading right now?
It's difficult.
I decided to order my books using a personal mind map - it's fluid and useful but as with so many thing - the strength is also the weakness - it's an unfinished process and I keep moving categories.
Llike that study I remember reading as an undergraduate which showed colour classification is culturall y specific and each culture has colours that dont exist in others.
As with colour so with words!
I get side tracked really, really easily and thats part of the problem with study maintenance - I begin to explore.
Exploring your own stuff is just as exciting in many ways as exploring other people's stuff - more so in many ways becausede you have to relocate the state of mine or intellectual standpoint that led you to keep that or say that or make that - or as so often happens - to keep that sequence of objects in that folder or box or pile.
Similarly adventurous is finding a newspaper page - carefully folded to keep an article that obviously was important enough to keep - unfolding and scanning the page only to discover you have absolutely no idea what was on this page that needed to be kept. Obviously the moment had passed.
I've just reorganised ther material and files for my reading groups. tidied up and glued in all the patterns and drawings for my knitting groups and dusted some shelves.
Looking at a box of old photographs and an archive box of old letters I have no idea how to contain and store them; I want to acknowledge their importance but I dont know how - I can make new books for the photos - easily done but how are old letters to be stored?
I'm going for a walk!
I have issues.
There's the issue of books - do I use the dewey system or do just alphabetical order; is fiction to be integrated or separated from nonfiction - and where do I stack the books I'm reading right now?
It's difficult.
I decided to order my books using a personal mind map - it's fluid and useful but as with so many thing - the strength is also the weakness - it's an unfinished process and I keep moving categories.
Llike that study I remember reading as an undergraduate which showed colour classification is culturall y specific and each culture has colours that dont exist in others.
As with colour so with words!
I get side tracked really, really easily and thats part of the problem with study maintenance - I begin to explore.
Exploring your own stuff is just as exciting in many ways as exploring other people's stuff - more so in many ways becausede you have to relocate the state of mine or intellectual standpoint that led you to keep that or say that or make that - or as so often happens - to keep that sequence of objects in that folder or box or pile.
Similarly adventurous is finding a newspaper page - carefully folded to keep an article that obviously was important enough to keep - unfolding and scanning the page only to discover you have absolutely no idea what was on this page that needed to be kept. Obviously the moment had passed.
I've just reorganised ther material and files for my reading groups. tidied up and glued in all the patterns and drawings for my knitting groups and dusted some shelves.
Looking at a box of old photographs and an archive box of old letters I have no idea how to contain and store them; I want to acknowledge their importance but I dont know how - I can make new books for the photos - easily done but how are old letters to be stored?
I'm going for a walk!
Egyptologist
Like many people I have been an Egyptologist since I saw images of pyramids and mummies for the first time.
I was aided in this by my mother whos notion of bedtime stories was to retell things she had read in the paper, books she was reading interwoven with fragments of her own childhood - magical magical stories!
I remember one favourite story was the opening of Tutanhkamon's sarcophogus. My mother would weave the darkness, the smell, the excitement and terror into a story of wonder and she would alway finish with the incredible - and as they lifted the heavy gold mask from his face they saw the flowers his child wife had placed on his chest as she kissed him good bye for the last time. And as they watched in the flickering candle light the wreathe crumpled and disappeared.
I still love that story - even though I have to tell it to myself now!
This is a huge entrance to the real point of this story!!
When I was living in London I used to spend a lot of time in the museum - especially in the room of the mummies - yet again I would wish I read the texts - never, of course, following up that thought with the sheer drudgery of learning to read them.
Some days I could sit almost alone in the room and examine the images and forms to my heart's delight. On other occasions there would be queues of people wedged into the room weaving their way slowly around the cases.
The noise and smell of the crowd was intense in these moments and one day I had this thought - which I treasure for many spurious reasons!
The wealth and beauty of Egypt was spent to remove these people from the everyday of life and this process continued into the construction of vast palaces for them to spend eternity - in the peace and space great wealth can buy.
How much must it suck to spend this part of your eternity packed like sardines in the museum mummy room being gawked at by the same populace you had so carefully removed yourself from!!
I was aided in this by my mother whos notion of bedtime stories was to retell things she had read in the paper, books she was reading interwoven with fragments of her own childhood - magical magical stories!
I remember one favourite story was the opening of Tutanhkamon's sarcophogus. My mother would weave the darkness, the smell, the excitement and terror into a story of wonder and she would alway finish with the incredible - and as they lifted the heavy gold mask from his face they saw the flowers his child wife had placed on his chest as she kissed him good bye for the last time. And as they watched in the flickering candle light the wreathe crumpled and disappeared.
I still love that story - even though I have to tell it to myself now!
This is a huge entrance to the real point of this story!!
When I was living in London I used to spend a lot of time in the museum - especially in the room of the mummies - yet again I would wish I read the texts - never, of course, following up that thought with the sheer drudgery of learning to read them.
Some days I could sit almost alone in the room and examine the images and forms to my heart's delight. On other occasions there would be queues of people wedged into the room weaving their way slowly around the cases.
The noise and smell of the crowd was intense in these moments and one day I had this thought - which I treasure for many spurious reasons!
The wealth and beauty of Egypt was spent to remove these people from the everyday of life and this process continued into the construction of vast palaces for them to spend eternity - in the peace and space great wealth can buy.
How much must it suck to spend this part of your eternity packed like sardines in the museum mummy room being gawked at by the same populace you had so carefully removed yourself from!!
Books of the Dead
Books of the Dead fascinate me - we think of them as truly esotric and ancient books of secret knowledge.
Its my understanding they were created in giant scriptoriums - scribes worked on pages and people would choose which pages they wanted their dead people to take with them into the afterlife.
I'll have that one and that one and that one - and the one with the really great image of Osiris please!
Its almost like a supermarket!
Its my understanding they were created in giant scriptoriums - scribes worked on pages and people would choose which pages they wanted their dead people to take with them into the afterlife.
I'll have that one and that one and that one - and the one with the really great image of Osiris please!
Its almost like a supermarket!
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