WY Art Fair!

I'm not much of an art person, so I don't often look for hidden meanings or political implications. So, why do I like this one? For the most universal of reasons: It is, simply, pretty.

I love words. I love the shapes that words take and how e.e. Cummings' poem "l(a" is formed. I like the play on words that this piece introduces, and the allusion to synecdoche: looking at the part as a whole and reverse. 

I love this piece because of the connection to the violin: the tattoos on her back are of F-holes on the instrument. Also, the classic black and white filter is really stunning. 

Top 10 20th Century Poems

10) "On the Pulse of Morning", Maya Angelou
9) "l(a", e.e Cummings
8) "The Giver of Stars", Amy Lowell
7) "Still I Rise", Maya Angelou
6) "I, Too, Sing America", Langston Hughes
5) "Poems Done on a Late Night Car", Carl Sandburg
4) "Fire and Sleet and Candle-Light", Elinor Wylie
3) "Four Sonnets", Edna St. Vincent Millay
2) "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening", Robert Frost
1) "Fire and Ice", Robert Frost

My "Great Gatsby" Quiz. For fun. Yup.

The Great Gatsby Quiz! Take it at your own peril here

Tavi Gevinson, Her TED Talk, and Her Awesomeness

I was so inspired by Tavi, I just spent about two and a half hours on her website (rookiemag.com, check it out!) instead of doing this blog post. That being said, I shall now buckle down and get to it.
How do I love her and what she stands for? Let me count the ways.
1) She's a girl. And she's, like, a person. Wow.
2) She's blonde, and guess what? She's intelligent; she's opinionated; she's strong. I mean, I'm not a blonde, but this is a pretty huge day for them. *applause*
3) She's a feminist, but from the talk and the Web site, I'm guessing she doesn't hate men. She has created a Web site where girls can go for advice in the "Sex+Love" category, and even in the "Style" category. Yes, she wants equal representation and opportunities for girls, but she doesn't thinks this is reducing those of men until they are equivalent to a woman's; rather, she thinks this means raising those of women until they are equivalent to those allocated to men. She wears skirts and make-up. Which bring me to my next point.
4) She mentions that girls - BRACE YOURSELVES - are PEOPLE.
I KNOW.
SHE MIGHT BE INSANE.
That being said, she doesn't think that women should be one thing. While we don't HAVE to be the pink-loving, soft-spoken women of yore, we CAN be. The only problem Tavi has with our society is not that we are not men; it is, rather, that we are told what we can be. Feminism is a two-way street; the point is not to create men-hating, pants-suit wearing Amazonians, but rather to tell girls that they can be Amazonians or princesses. It's not to create girls; it's to tell girls to create themselves, whoever that might be, without anyone - a Republican pro-lifer or a hippie - telling them that they should be a certain way.
5) Also, she mentions unfair representation of women in the media. This is a major problem, and also a two-way street. Female characters are often either/or. Smart or pretty; strong or nice. Would you make a zombie-hunter blonde? Would a vampire fall in love with an overweight English Lit major? The fact is, girls are multifaceted; ballerinas are tough; indie rockers like glitter - I mean, seriously, who DOESN'T like glitter? We are not all in one category. We are not easily definable, just like men aren't. We don't come cut and paste; the saying goes 'every person is unique'. Does this apply only to men? Or are girls also magical, weird, different human beings?
No two people think or act entirely the same. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses; I think that Cinderella, or Briar Rose (Aurora, Sleeping Beauty, she had lots of names, but I digress) can hold their own in court and go shopping for shoes afterward; and some girls just like black.
We are who we are; we are not what you think we should be.
Go check out rookiemag.com. This girl might just be onto something.
-Katherine

"The Curious Savage", John Patrick

Greed, friendship, and confronting the real world are just a few of the themes throughout Patrick's "The Curious Savage." Mrs. Savage, recently widowed and having inherited her husband's $10 million estate. Committed to a mental asylum by her blood(erm, money) thirsty stepchildren, our protagonist (as sane as can be) is immersed in very 'curious' society indeed. One on side harassed by a fraudulent congressman, an incompetent judge, and a goldigger (a.k.a. her lovely children, victimized by their senile and selfish mother) and on the other by occupants of the "loony bin" (who are actually a pretty tame lot), I think that character development for Mrs. Savage herself is almost lacking. How does she feel? What are her motives? What is her story? Can I get a longer-than-a-minute monologue, anyone? The acting however - all done by people eighteen years old and younger - is pretty superb. Set is beautifully done, and while the play is almost rambling at the beginning with sorta-kinda dry dialogue, Act Two is simply wonderful. Funny, and interesting. My favorite part of this play is the idea of justice for the rotten kids, and the idea that mentally unhealthy people are just that: people. Not monsters, not scary psychopaths (though some of them are), but that they are people with hardships and hopes just like everyone else; if anything, it is our system of dealing with the mentally unhealthy that is a problem.
I didn't like the ending. I thought Ms. Savage should have stayed in the asylum, and my friend Kathleen agreed with me, but really, isn't that just romantic?
I mean, seriously. Who wants to stay in an asylum with a bunch of crazy people?
I liked it! A lot! Great job, Mr. Winkler and the entire Company, and especially leading lady Ms. Sonia Goldberg!
-Katherine

"The Bear", William Faulkner

What is a man? Not a grown up boy, but a real man? This is question that occurs to 'the boy' throughout Faulkner's short story, as he, Sam Fathers, his father, Major de Spain, General Compson, Tennie's Jim, and Uncle Ash set up camp every summer and every November, hunting the "immortal" bear. This huge hulking thing present in the woods since the beginning of time, it seems to him. Man and beast have to come together countless times, but have never been able to conquer it. The bear becomes the boy's obsession for four years; his "alma mater"; defeating it is the only thing hindering him from becoming a man. The bear signifies everything he hopes to be: courageous, valiant, invincible. Being afraid of the bear, letting the bear beat him, is something only a boy would do. He gets his chance at fourteen, baiting the thing with a mongrel of a dog and a deep understanding of how it moves.
He doesn't kill it.
Pointless, you say? The boy seems to think this too, until he joins his father in his study for a little post-unsuccessful-hunt-reverie. His father reads to him 'Ode to a Grecian Urn' and explains to him what truth, courage, bravery, and a real man is. A true hunter and man does not always kill the enemy. He takes pride in the ability to have the chance to do it, but there is a enough more-than-foolhardy respect in the exchange to spare the bear's life. I really like the touching-on of real truth, bravery, manhood, and freedom. Two other things that resonate with me are Faulkner's metaphorical representation of the Native American and the "Negro" prevailing with the bear. Also, the fact that this was published in 1942 reflects the times: World War II was raging, and many state leaders had lost sight of what a true warrior is. 'The Bear' is a true coming of age tale: it talks not only of growing up and conquering your childhood fears, but learning to become a decent person.
-Katherine

"Winter Dreams", F. Scott Fitzgerald

Dexter Green is a caddy at a golf club at the age of fourteen; one day, he is struck down, as if by lightning, by an eleven year old girl. Contemptuous and spoiled as she is, she is nothing short of perfect in his eyes. This story continues for almost two and a half decades; Judy Jones, the typical liberated Gilded Age woman, is flighty, beguiling, and all Dexter thinks about for quite some time. The thing I like most about this story is the subtly comical dramatic irony; Judy and Dexter are not good for each other, do not need each other, nor do they want one another, and both know that. The only thing keeping them from breaking the cycle is that the cycle would be, well, broken. Only when Dexter moves away, affluent as he is, and is met years later of acquaintance of Judy and her husband's, does he get over her. At this point in the story, he is almost forty years old, I believe. He weeps with emotional turmoil at the millisecond it takes for him to completely relinquish all desire and love for Judy. The dream is gone, as of someone waking in the early morning and not being able to recall their elusive sleeping paradise. He doesn't care. I guess he's weeping for all the time he's spent chasing Judy, when now, he just... doesn't care. At all.
-Katherine

"Sophistication", Sherwood Anderson

It is sometime in the early 20th century, and George Willard of Ohio is pining over Helen White. Helen White is pining over George Willard. The thing that I enjoyed most about this story, however, is not the characters, or the plot, but the underlying theme of what love really is: " 'I have come to this lonely place and here is this other,' was the substance of the thing felt,' " says Willard. No matter that Helen White is a banker's daughter and courting men much higher up than George; no matter that George is just a village boy and Helen's parents don't approve; no matter that their socioeconomic differences in status should be keeping them apart.  Anderson's lyrical prose emphasizes the one of the most basic human yearnings: to love and be loved, or even more simpler than that: to just not be alone in this vast universe of ours.
- Katherine

Inception!

Dear E-Friends,

Hey! This is the first post on my Honors, Too blog (if you don't get the joke, go back to Honors I.) Reading "The Great Gatsby."

More later,

Katherine