willie's blog reminds me of cheescake because it looks like cake covered in cheese.
I think that sometimes when we are in the deepest thought we should just run over the a piatt andrew and make our way to the cheesecake factory , where they in fact SELL CHEESECAKE! . (and they are really contributing to the local restaurant scene) anways, i'm going to go watch garden state ... because it promotes social responsibility
Sunday, June 1, 2008
my plans for the summer!
go to the cheescake factory every night with willie and abby and sam. While you are at the dog bar getting absolutely hammered every single night. we'll be eating sweet cheesecake . and be surrounded by all the culture at the mall.
Friday, May 30, 2008
I want to be in that musical too.
This entire assignment has given me the greatest urge to sing (by myself), and write a song. I have decided to write this song based upon an accumulation of views and the crafting of outlooks that many people have given the impression of attaining around me. It is very interesting to notice how revolutionary our own beliefs may be when grasped by the hands of tone.
There is a backyard there was a movie that meant more than writing
An impulsive taste that allowed us to be children
The wounding of vanity, we never can be too being
(it is never collective, it is never collective)
But who feels more embarrassed than when they are unaware?
It is fine to watch polished individuals be tainted.
Where are the authentic games we once labeled ours.
(rightfully his, rightfully theirs)
And we will gladly regress with a shattered mind.
Nothing walks and stillness is a seesaw,
For the height depends on those men.
(apologetic in thought, apologetic in time)
The eyes are sometimes flawed with aim
There is numbness in their approval.
It is always better to stare at the leg of a table.
(soothing with mercy.)
I suppose this could be seen as a poem too, as justification.
There is a backyard there was a movie that meant more than writing
An impulsive taste that allowed us to be children
The wounding of vanity, we never can be too being
(it is never collective, it is never collective)
But who feels more embarrassed than when they are unaware?
It is fine to watch polished individuals be tainted.
Where are the authentic games we once labeled ours.
(rightfully his, rightfully theirs)
And we will gladly regress with a shattered mind.
Nothing walks and stillness is a seesaw,
For the height depends on those men.
(apologetic in thought, apologetic in time)
The eyes are sometimes flawed with aim
There is numbness in their approval.
It is always better to stare at the leg of a table.
(soothing with mercy.)
I suppose this could be seen as a poem too, as justification.
A burst of modern surrealism
Recently, well on March tenth, employees in the food court of a mall in Los Angeles performed a spontaneous musical out of absolutely nowhere. This was most fascinating to me because it was public evidence that the surrealist movement is very much still alive. It began with a woman singing about lemonade and the lemons in the lemonade. Not to long after the janitor begins complaining about his job also in a solo piece, and soon many other employees from different stands join in as well.
These people put on the display of a more a style in surrealism that is called veristic. This is when the style is very realistic and detailed, however the subject matter is irrational. It would be “meaningless” for these workers to help relieve their lives of monotony by maybe doing something sporadic and plainly fun. Spending the majority of one’s time in a hectic grotesque food court, could allow moments for careful thinking and planning. Of course the performance was more of a shock causing the audience (food court attendees) to be even more baffled than if they had been warned before.
The songs that they chose to sing, reflected the views of how these people in the food court would wrongly perceive them. Because many identify this type of job as an effortless, yet monotonous task, they were able to be proven wrong and realize that they are not efficiently dancing and releasing complaints throughout their own offices. They are also never being entertained in such a way by anyone else that they are working with. It is sad because even if obtaining a more satisfactory job meant a better standard of living, it would also mean that such acts of impulsiveness would be less. Through this presentation these employees were working just in a different direction and for an unusual type of profit.
Hating a job is never really that much of an unconscious thought. It is ridiculous to assume that every part of a job can be forever wonderful. Obviously the repetition of work in a mall food court would be a lot easier to dread than working for any type of job that required a higher level of thinking and education. However, one does not always need a psychology class to help define their own senses. The laughter and puzzled looks in that shopping mall were way more satisfying then any sort of deal making.
These people put on the display of a more a style in surrealism that is called veristic. This is when the style is very realistic and detailed, however the subject matter is irrational. It would be “meaningless” for these workers to help relieve their lives of monotony by maybe doing something sporadic and plainly fun. Spending the majority of one’s time in a hectic grotesque food court, could allow moments for careful thinking and planning. Of course the performance was more of a shock causing the audience (food court attendees) to be even more baffled than if they had been warned before.
The songs that they chose to sing, reflected the views of how these people in the food court would wrongly perceive them. Because many identify this type of job as an effortless, yet monotonous task, they were able to be proven wrong and realize that they are not efficiently dancing and releasing complaints throughout their own offices. They are also never being entertained in such a way by anyone else that they are working with. It is sad because even if obtaining a more satisfactory job meant a better standard of living, it would also mean that such acts of impulsiveness would be less. Through this presentation these employees were working just in a different direction and for an unusual type of profit.
Hating a job is never really that much of an unconscious thought. It is ridiculous to assume that every part of a job can be forever wonderful. Obviously the repetition of work in a mall food court would be a lot easier to dread than working for any type of job that required a higher level of thinking and education. However, one does not always need a psychology class to help define their own senses. The laughter and puzzled looks in that shopping mall were way more satisfying then any sort of deal making.
surrealism as a message
1. The actual movement
Wii
The Surrealist movement was finally and clearly recognized on October 11, 1924. Surrealism began to be renowned in Paris with the intense effort of André Brenton. It became most established in Europe and soon the U.S., during the times of World War 1 and World War 2. Surrealists believed that there was a dominion in the human subconscious thoughts that could be reached through the basis of new more abstract poets, painters, musicians, dancers etc. A lot of the movement dealt with being spontaneous with the way that one feels, and presenting in the rawest way that the idea initially developed in one’s mind. Surrealists like to in some ways make a declaration with their different forms of art by following no type of pattern of past structure that most artists once did. They no longer wanted to fear the wrath of derision through society and the world when it was very evident that at that point, and still today, the conflicts affecting the entire world were unable to be sufficiently apprehended through the old more conformed way of expressing one’s self.
All of the poetry that I have read in the past has always emerged as being the more central and informative emotions of a poet. However, the poetry that I was exposed to before was hand picked by most of my former teachers and lacked the severity of unpreventable thought that many of these surrealist poets were able to divulge. This type of writing where it is purely excess of human vulnerability is probably kind that I am most fond of. Through their thriving talents, surrealists gave a sincere and triumphant attempt to present a frank solution to the negative influence of hateful war and political mishaps.
In their unique ways of writing, many of the authors of the surrealist poetry addressed the vague parts to life that a majority of the world has wanted us to repress. In Guillaume Apollinaire’s poems he seemed to be the one to confine this vagueness in the best manner. One of his poems called “The Bells” depicts how a gypsy being so mystifying and uncatchable allows humans to be lured by her enchantment. This type of element constantly draws me more in the direction of such style.
Wii
The Surrealist movement was finally and clearly recognized on October 11, 1924. Surrealism began to be renowned in Paris with the intense effort of André Brenton. It became most established in Europe and soon the U.S., during the times of World War 1 and World War 2. Surrealists believed that there was a dominion in the human subconscious thoughts that could be reached through the basis of new more abstract poets, painters, musicians, dancers etc. A lot of the movement dealt with being spontaneous with the way that one feels, and presenting in the rawest way that the idea initially developed in one’s mind. Surrealists like to in some ways make a declaration with their different forms of art by following no type of pattern of past structure that most artists once did. They no longer wanted to fear the wrath of derision through society and the world when it was very evident that at that point, and still today, the conflicts affecting the entire world were unable to be sufficiently apprehended through the old more conformed way of expressing one’s self.
All of the poetry that I have read in the past has always emerged as being the more central and informative emotions of a poet. However, the poetry that I was exposed to before was hand picked by most of my former teachers and lacked the severity of unpreventable thought that many of these surrealist poets were able to divulge. This type of writing where it is purely excess of human vulnerability is probably kind that I am most fond of. Through their thriving talents, surrealists gave a sincere and triumphant attempt to present a frank solution to the negative influence of hateful war and political mishaps.
In their unique ways of writing, many of the authors of the surrealist poetry addressed the vague parts to life that a majority of the world has wanted us to repress. In Guillaume Apollinaire’s poems he seemed to be the one to confine this vagueness in the best manner. One of his poems called “The Bells” depicts how a gypsy being so mystifying and uncatchable allows humans to be lured by her enchantment. This type of element constantly draws me more in the direction of such style.
Sleep Spaces, Spaces Sleep
This poem was most helpful to me in revealing the basis of surrealism.
1. Explicate a poem
Sleep Spaces by Robert Desnos
In the night there are of course the seven wondersof the world and the greatness tragedy and enchantment.Forests collide with legendary creatures hiding in thickets.There is you.In the night there are the walker's footsteps the murderer'sthe town policeman's light from the street lamp and the ragman's lanternThere is you.In the night trains go past and boatsand the fantasy of countries where it's daytime. The last breaths
of twilight and the first shivers of dawn.There is you.A piano tune, a shout.A door slams. A clock.And not only beings and things and physical sounds.But also me chasing myself or endlessly going beyond me.There is you the sacrifice, you that I'm waiting for.Sometimes at the moment of sleep strange figures are born and disappear.When I shut my eyes phosphorescent blooms appear and fadeand come to life again like fireworks made of flesh.I pass through strange lands with creatures for company.No doubt you are there, my beautiful discreet spy.And the palpable soul of the vast reaches.And perfumes of the sky and the stars the song of a roosterfrom 2000 years ago and piercing screams in a flaming park and kisses.Sinister handshakes in a sickly light and axles grinding on paralyzing roads.No doubt there is you who I do not know, who on the contrary I do know.But who, here in my dreams, demands to be felt without ever appearing.You who remain out of reach in reality and in dream.You who belong to me through my will to possess your illusionbut who brings your face near mine only if my eyes are closed in dream as well asin reality.You who in spite of an easy rhetoric where the waves die on the beachwhere crows fly into ruined factories, where the wood rotscrackling under a lead sun.You who are at the depths of my dreams stirring up a mindfull of metamorphose leaving me your glovewhen I kiss your hand.In the night there are stars and the shadowy motion of the sea,of rivers, forests, towns, grass and the lungsof millions and millions of beings.In the night there are the seven wonders of the world.In the night there are no guardian angels, but there is sleep.In the night there is you.In the daylight too.
The presenter in this poem speaks desperately of the happenings while sleeping that takes place in and out of the dream. He speaks of the limits and marvels that occur in dreams such as the same unexplained perplexity of the outside world around him as he rests. Robert helps in describing the unavoidable attachments one creates in the depths of love or even care. Even in the most enthralling dreams we carry the people that we love for on many different occasions these people that trap our minds are still inescapable in our dreams. The person or people that we love appear in relation to order and even sometimes death. Though we would never want to associate them with such thoughts, in our dreams they are undeniably related to any aspect of the dream.
We as humans often end up deceive ourselves into thinking that escaping the torment of what we love or in turn loathe, through sleeping and evading. It is unsurprising to carry these toxic, yet brilliant people and store them in bends of our brain. Unconsciously we would love to find a means of fleeing from them, however for twisted and luminous reasons, every human forfeits these run away routes to the inevitable passion. These delusions that we create and are told can be let go of, link to the core of our happiest moments in both certainty of the tangible world, and the realness of our most memorable imaginings. There are dreams where they show up, but it is not really them. They take the form of a different person and with their appearances changed, they become unreachable again. It is frightening to think of all the opportunities and curiosity the world can behold. It is even more terrifying to expose the boundaries that are so frequently guarded by the profundity of love and despair for another person.
In instances of complete chaos and lack of understanding, the mind still guiltily roams to what seems so diminutive in comparison to the rest of our lives. This guilty and maniac feeling creeps up even when there is utter contentment, for within these glad flashes there is that face. The complexity of this guest appearance marks the point of both our wrong and accepted behavior. Although we do not want to look as though we are infatuated, we are surely absorbed in the thought of completion. In all the greatness in the others surrounding us, and all the loyalty in those that we will soon take for granted, towards every stone wall and every steel plating, we still follow and chase. The cycle always fails to weaken.
1. Explicate a poem
Sleep Spaces by Robert Desnos
In the night there are of course the seven wondersof the world and the greatness tragedy and enchantment.Forests collide with legendary creatures hiding in thickets.There is you.In the night there are the walker's footsteps the murderer'sthe town policeman's light from the street lamp and the ragman's lanternThere is you.In the night trains go past and boatsand the fantasy of countries where it's daytime. The last breaths
of twilight and the first shivers of dawn.There is you.A piano tune, a shout.A door slams. A clock.And not only beings and things and physical sounds.But also me chasing myself or endlessly going beyond me.There is you the sacrifice, you that I'm waiting for.Sometimes at the moment of sleep strange figures are born and disappear.When I shut my eyes phosphorescent blooms appear and fadeand come to life again like fireworks made of flesh.I pass through strange lands with creatures for company.No doubt you are there, my beautiful discreet spy.And the palpable soul of the vast reaches.And perfumes of the sky and the stars the song of a roosterfrom 2000 years ago and piercing screams in a flaming park and kisses.Sinister handshakes in a sickly light and axles grinding on paralyzing roads.No doubt there is you who I do not know, who on the contrary I do know.But who, here in my dreams, demands to be felt without ever appearing.You who remain out of reach in reality and in dream.You who belong to me through my will to possess your illusionbut who brings your face near mine only if my eyes are closed in dream as well asin reality.You who in spite of an easy rhetoric where the waves die on the beachwhere crows fly into ruined factories, where the wood rotscrackling under a lead sun.You who are at the depths of my dreams stirring up a mindfull of metamorphose leaving me your glovewhen I kiss your hand.In the night there are stars and the shadowy motion of the sea,of rivers, forests, towns, grass and the lungsof millions and millions of beings.In the night there are the seven wonders of the world.In the night there are no guardian angels, but there is sleep.In the night there is you.In the daylight too.
The presenter in this poem speaks desperately of the happenings while sleeping that takes place in and out of the dream. He speaks of the limits and marvels that occur in dreams such as the same unexplained perplexity of the outside world around him as he rests. Robert helps in describing the unavoidable attachments one creates in the depths of love or even care. Even in the most enthralling dreams we carry the people that we love for on many different occasions these people that trap our minds are still inescapable in our dreams. The person or people that we love appear in relation to order and even sometimes death. Though we would never want to associate them with such thoughts, in our dreams they are undeniably related to any aspect of the dream.
We as humans often end up deceive ourselves into thinking that escaping the torment of what we love or in turn loathe, through sleeping and evading. It is unsurprising to carry these toxic, yet brilliant people and store them in bends of our brain. Unconsciously we would love to find a means of fleeing from them, however for twisted and luminous reasons, every human forfeits these run away routes to the inevitable passion. These delusions that we create and are told can be let go of, link to the core of our happiest moments in both certainty of the tangible world, and the realness of our most memorable imaginings. There are dreams where they show up, but it is not really them. They take the form of a different person and with their appearances changed, they become unreachable again. It is frightening to think of all the opportunities and curiosity the world can behold. It is even more terrifying to expose the boundaries that are so frequently guarded by the profundity of love and despair for another person.
In instances of complete chaos and lack of understanding, the mind still guiltily roams to what seems so diminutive in comparison to the rest of our lives. This guilty and maniac feeling creeps up even when there is utter contentment, for within these glad flashes there is that face. The complexity of this guest appearance marks the point of both our wrong and accepted behavior. Although we do not want to look as though we are infatuated, we are surely absorbed in the thought of completion. In all the greatness in the others surrounding us, and all the loyalty in those that we will soon take for granted, towards every stone wall and every steel plating, we still follow and chase. The cycle always fails to weaken.
Surrealist poets and their effect on mah life.
List of poets
Andre Brenton
Guillaume Apollinaire
Robert Desnos
Louis Aragon
Paul Eluard
Pierre Reverdy
Paul Celan
Surrealists
1. How does one react to these unconventional poets?
This is probably one of the most relaxing and enjoyable assignments I have ever been given. While reading this poetry what I found to be the most striking was that it all seemed like lyrics with the exception of some. Sometimes when I buy cds I read through the lyrics first without actually listening to the instrumental and imagine the melody of the songs directly through the words. The same feeling came over me when I read a lot of these poems. This sense was most prevalent in the poems composed by Robert Desnos and. Even when scrolling down the list of titles to the poems I felt as though I were examining the back of a cd case. It is almost as if poems could potentially make much more honest songs; however that would precisely be taking away from their initial and most effective purpose. Robert Desnos wrote this poem titled “I Have Dreamed of You So Much”, and it became one of my preferred out of all that I have read because of the way that he was able to almost combine adoring, dislike, hate, and obsession. One line that may help reveal this would be, “I have dreamed of you so much that surely there is no more time for me to wake up. /I sleep on my feet prey to all the forms of life and love, and you, the only one who counts for me today.” He repeats the line “I have dreamed of you so much..” and it is so possible and unimaginable at the same time, to dream and fixate on one person, however at the same time watch them slowly disappear.
Another area that generally has never involved me in poetry surprisingly became one of the more appealing elements, which is the way the Paul Celan situated his sentence structure and language rules. In one particular poem called “Flower” Paul would introduce a word and use a hyphen as if he were following this word with a definition. Instead of a definition it was more of an odd description. It was bizarre that I noticed or commented on this because it is most often that for some unexplained reason I always disregard the alternate placing of words and grammar. Towards the end of the poem search I read through many without thinking about how to avoid these funky placements and happily finished some valuing the division and combinations.
On earlier occasions I would always associate poetry with complications and ingenuity beyond what I would ever be able to express or deliver a complete understanding towards. I know I did not get to read all of works of only these seven different poets, however it was fortunate enough to read some and it most certainly gives me something to look forward to preferably still read soon. At one time I believed that I would never read poetry such as this on my own because there was too much stress that troubled me while thinking that it was only created to make yet another aspect of the English language more difficult to process. I have just recently found that I am mistaken, and many people before me and even people across the world still posses the same judgments, just in varying situations.
Andre Brenton
Guillaume Apollinaire
Robert Desnos
Louis Aragon
Paul Eluard
Pierre Reverdy
Paul Celan
Surrealists
1. How does one react to these unconventional poets?
This is probably one of the most relaxing and enjoyable assignments I have ever been given. While reading this poetry what I found to be the most striking was that it all seemed like lyrics with the exception of some. Sometimes when I buy cds I read through the lyrics first without actually listening to the instrumental and imagine the melody of the songs directly through the words. The same feeling came over me when I read a lot of these poems. This sense was most prevalent in the poems composed by Robert Desnos and. Even when scrolling down the list of titles to the poems I felt as though I were examining the back of a cd case. It is almost as if poems could potentially make much more honest songs; however that would precisely be taking away from their initial and most effective purpose. Robert Desnos wrote this poem titled “I Have Dreamed of You So Much”, and it became one of my preferred out of all that I have read because of the way that he was able to almost combine adoring, dislike, hate, and obsession. One line that may help reveal this would be, “I have dreamed of you so much that surely there is no more time for me to wake up. /I sleep on my feet prey to all the forms of life and love, and you, the only one who counts for me today.” He repeats the line “I have dreamed of you so much..” and it is so possible and unimaginable at the same time, to dream and fixate on one person, however at the same time watch them slowly disappear.
Another area that generally has never involved me in poetry surprisingly became one of the more appealing elements, which is the way the Paul Celan situated his sentence structure and language rules. In one particular poem called “Flower” Paul would introduce a word and use a hyphen as if he were following this word with a definition. Instead of a definition it was more of an odd description. It was bizarre that I noticed or commented on this because it is most often that for some unexplained reason I always disregard the alternate placing of words and grammar. Towards the end of the poem search I read through many without thinking about how to avoid these funky placements and happily finished some valuing the division and combinations.
On earlier occasions I would always associate poetry with complications and ingenuity beyond what I would ever be able to express or deliver a complete understanding towards. I know I did not get to read all of works of only these seven different poets, however it was fortunate enough to read some and it most certainly gives me something to look forward to preferably still read soon. At one time I believed that I would never read poetry such as this on my own because there was too much stress that troubled me while thinking that it was only created to make yet another aspect of the English language more difficult to process. I have just recently found that I am mistaken, and many people before me and even people across the world still posses the same judgments, just in varying situations.
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