More JHC Newman for your intellectual stimulation. Thursdays are long, but they are good and weighty and meaty, not to be digested passively, but taken in with large bites and much chewing [bad analogy. now i'm hungry].
A great good will impart great good. If then the intellect is so excellent a portion of us, and its cultivation so excellent, it is not only beautiful, perfect, admirable, and noble in itself, but in a true and high sense it must be useful to the possessor and to all around him; not useful in any low, mechanical, mercantile sense, but as diffusing good, or as a blessing, or a gift, or a power, or a treasure, first to the owner, then through him to the world. I say then, if a liberal education be good, it must necessarily be useful too.
I say that a cultivated intellect, because it is a good in itself, brings with it a power and a grace to every work and occupation which it undertakes, and enables us to be more useful, and to a greater number.
[from discourse 7: knowledge viewed in relation to professional skill, sections 5 and 6]
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
for the benefit of both sexes...
A really cultured woman, like a really cultured man, is all the simpler and the less obtrusive for her knowledge; it has made her see herself and her opinions in something just like proportions; she does not make it a pedestal from which she flatters herself that she commands a complete view of men and things, but makes it a point of observation from which to form a right estimate of herself.
She neither spouts poetry nor quotes Cicero on slight provocation; not because she thinks that a sacrifice must be made to the prejudices of men, but because that mode of exhibiting her memory and Latinity does not present itself to her as edifying or graceful.
She does not write books to confound philosophers, perhaps because she is able to write books that delight them. In conversation she is the least formidable of women, because she understands you, without wanting to make you aware that you can't her. She does not give you information, which is the raw material of culture, - she gives you sympathy, which is its subtlest essence.
[george eilot - silly novels by lady novelists. which, if you haven't read, ingested, and contemplated, i would get on right now]
She neither spouts poetry nor quotes Cicero on slight provocation; not because she thinks that a sacrifice must be made to the prejudices of men, but because that mode of exhibiting her memory and Latinity does not present itself to her as edifying or graceful.
She does not write books to confound philosophers, perhaps because she is able to write books that delight them. In conversation she is the least formidable of women, because she understands you, without wanting to make you aware that you can't her. She does not give you information, which is the raw material of culture, - she gives you sympathy, which is its subtlest essence.
[george eilot - silly novels by lady novelists. which, if you haven't read, ingested, and contemplated, i would get on right now]
Sunday, January 27, 2008
year of the long winter...
Homework has definitely been ignored this weekend [i like using passive voice on my blog, just because i can]. Every time I sit down with the intention of studying, I get about two pages before I put down the book and pick up the guitar. I've been giving up my Winston Time for Songwriting Time. Two songs in one weekend! Who knew?
2008 is the year of the song. Maybe my dreams of being a poor wandering folk singer will finally come true! [someday, when i'm playing in a coffee shop wearing an adorable dress made by my own two hands, you'll know i've arrived]
This time, the lyrics are all mine. I'm so proud of myself, I think I'll eat a cookie.
2008 is the year of the song. Maybe my dreams of being a poor wandering folk singer will finally come true! [someday, when i'm playing in a coffee shop wearing an adorable dress made by my own two hands, you'll know i've arrived]
This time, the lyrics are all mine. I'm so proud of myself, I think I'll eat a cookie.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
achievement...
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
[Wendell Berry]
I just wrote a song using this lovely poem.
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
[Wendell Berry]
I just wrote a song using this lovely poem.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
capstone...
I'm going to make a public confession. I've become one of those simpering girls drawing hearts in the margins of her notebooks and texts.
My love, however, is not any living man. I wouldn't even say I'm in love with John Henry Cardinal Newman, a devout Christian and 19th century scholar [well on his way to sainthood in the Catholic Church]. I am impressed by his passion and humility. When his future sainthood was suggested, he replied, "Saints are not literary men, they do not love the classics, they do not write Tales." [oh, but good men do, john henry...]
My Norton margins are full of hearts because, well, [never let it be said that i turned down a cheesy cliche] my heart is full. Maybe it's just because his work has shaped so much of my college and my favorite professors, [and they basically justify my entire educational experience] but I am so passionate about his writings. [perhaps this is merely further proof of complete indoctrination about classical education/hillsdale philosophy]
Then again, maybe I'm just so excited to have the foundation [three and a half years in the making, kids, or maybe all twenty-two] to understand and appreciate something so-complex-that-it-makes-your-head-hurt but so-good-you-pound-the-table-with-your-fist that I'll believe anything.
But seriously, check it out: [stick with me, this is some thought-provoking stuff]
When I speak of Knolwedge, I mean something intellectual, something which grasps what it perceives through the senses; something which takes a view of things; which seems more than the senses convey; which reasons upon what it sees, and while it sees; which invests it with an idea.
Not to know the relative disposition of things is the state of slaves or children...
Moreover, such knowledge is not a mere extrinsic or accidental advantage, which is ours today and another's tomorrow, which may be got up from a book, and easily forgotten again, which we can command or communicated at our pleasure, which we can borrow for the occasion, carry about in our hand, and take into the market; it is acquired illumination, it is a habit, a personal possession, and an inward endowment. And this is the reason why it is more correct, as well as more usual, to speak of a University as a place of education than instruction.
Education is a higher word; it implies an action upon our mental nature, and the formation of a character; it is something individual and permanent, and is commonly spoken of in connection with religion and virtue.
[all from discourse 5 - Knowledge Its Own End]
This is the reason why we are here. We love because we are Loved infinitely. We create because we mirror our Creator. We develop our minds because God gave them to us to develop. Not with vain or selfish or worthless knowledge, but by engaging our minds and hearts with true instruction and wonder. We seek Him so we can find who we truly are.
This is why I'm getting a Classical Liberal Arts degree in English. Not so I can do, but so I can be.
[it's my last semester, so be prepared to suffer through more of the same and plenty of nostalgia]
My love, however, is not any living man. I wouldn't even say I'm in love with John Henry Cardinal Newman, a devout Christian and 19th century scholar [well on his way to sainthood in the Catholic Church]. I am impressed by his passion and humility. When his future sainthood was suggested, he replied, "Saints are not literary men, they do not love the classics, they do not write Tales." [oh, but good men do, john henry...]
My Norton margins are full of hearts because, well, [never let it be said that i turned down a cheesy cliche] my heart is full. Maybe it's just because his work has shaped so much of my college and my favorite professors, [and they basically justify my entire educational experience] but I am so passionate about his writings. [perhaps this is merely further proof of complete indoctrination about classical education/hillsdale philosophy]
Then again, maybe I'm just so excited to have the foundation [three and a half years in the making, kids, or maybe all twenty-two] to understand and appreciate something so-complex-that-it-makes-your-head-hurt but so-good-you-pound-the-table-with-your-fist that I'll believe anything.
But seriously, check it out: [stick with me, this is some thought-provoking stuff]
When I speak of Knolwedge, I mean something intellectual, something which grasps what it perceives through the senses; something which takes a view of things; which seems more than the senses convey; which reasons upon what it sees, and while it sees; which invests it with an idea.
Not to know the relative disposition of things is the state of slaves or children...
Moreover, such knowledge is not a mere extrinsic or accidental advantage, which is ours today and another's tomorrow, which may be got up from a book, and easily forgotten again, which we can command or communicated at our pleasure, which we can borrow for the occasion, carry about in our hand, and take into the market; it is acquired illumination, it is a habit, a personal possession, and an inward endowment. And this is the reason why it is more correct, as well as more usual, to speak of a University as a place of education than instruction.
Education is a higher word; it implies an action upon our mental nature, and the formation of a character; it is something individual and permanent, and is commonly spoken of in connection with religion and virtue.
[all from discourse 5 - Knowledge Its Own End]
This is the reason why we are here. We love because we are Loved infinitely. We create because we mirror our Creator. We develop our minds because God gave them to us to develop. Not with vain or selfish or worthless knowledge, but by engaging our minds and hearts with true instruction and wonder. We seek Him so we can find who we truly are.
This is why I'm getting a Classical Liberal Arts degree in English. Not so I can do, but so I can be.
[it's my last semester, so be prepared to suffer through more of the same and plenty of nostalgia]
Friday, January 18, 2008
for-such-a-time friday...
Wow, God is funny sometimes. I feel like I'm just standing around with a stupid grin on my face going, "Wait, you did that? Because of that? So I could do that? NO WAY! THAT'S TOTALLY COOL!!"
we put the walls up
but Jesus keeps them standing
He doesn't need us,
but He lets us put our hands in
so we can see
His love is bigger than you and me
[caedmon's call - two weeks in africa]
we put the walls up
but Jesus keeps them standing
He doesn't need us,
but He lets us put our hands in
so we can see
His love is bigger than you and me
[caedmon's call - two weeks in africa]
Thursday, January 17, 2008
thursday happiness...
Today I was walking from the library to class and the wind was blowing pretty hard. It made a whistling noise across the top of my latte cup lid.
Monday, January 14, 2008
PSA...
I hate to lower my blogging standards with a topic like this, but it's been appearing so frequently that I have to say something. What the heck is up with people talking on their cell phones in the bathroom? As much as I eschew public restrooms, several recent visits have found myself listening to the conversations [which sound businesslike, i might add] of others.
As I prepare to head out into the grand world of Workplace Etiquette, oh-so-filled with new and exciting social rules, I obviously have much to learn. Mainly, when did it become cool to conduct business from the stall? Do these people think that their conversation partner can't hear them? Or that the call is too important to return in two minutes?
Or has the bathroom stall become another portable office in our transitory society?
Please advise. Just don't text/call/or comment from the commode, okay?
As I prepare to head out into the grand world of Workplace Etiquette, oh-so-filled with new and exciting social rules, I obviously have much to learn. Mainly, when did it become cool to conduct business from the stall? Do these people think that their conversation partner can't hear them? Or that the call is too important to return in two minutes?
Or has the bathroom stall become another portable office in our transitory society?
Please advise. Just don't text/call/or comment from the commode, okay?
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
for my own benefit...
A few lofty goals:
-Musical [guitar, re-piano]
-Fashion [knit, sew, not buy]
-Travel [explore oregon, or a new country?]
-Literary [start a book exchange, more jewish and russian and shakespeare and theory]
-Fitness [x4, x2, 5k]
-Relational [pursue, pray, give, serve, ask]
-Creative [story, art, class]
-Intellectual [crossword]
-Musical [guitar, re-piano]
-Fashion [knit, sew, not buy]
-Travel [explore oregon, or a new country?]
-Literary [start a book exchange, more jewish and russian and shakespeare and theory]
-Fitness [x4, x2, 5k]
-Relational [pursue, pray, give, serve, ask]
-Creative [story, art, class]
-Intellectual [crossword]
Saturday, January 05, 2008
quiet saturday...
It has been wonderful to be home all day. Sometimes I get so caught up in seeing everyone and doing everything in my short breaks that I forget the important things: praying, walking, breathing, resting, reading, serving, etc.
I took a walk this morning and had a bowl of Acai with granola at a little cafe by my house. Then I spent time studying humanity with Dorothy L. Sayers and exploring the ideas behind guerilla art. A strange combination, but it worked well. Both books deal with the ways we as humans relate to our vocations and surroundings. You can go through life on auto-pilot, working at a job and never seeing the pattern made by the cracks in the sidewalk, or you can choose to engage. It's not easy to keep your mind and heart and sight active.
In the introduction to Sayers' essay, Mary McDermott Shideler explains: We are all equal in our creaturehood, whatever our sex, color, age, background, or abilities. But we are all different in the functions we were created to perform, as different as water from stones, and engineering from imaginative fiction. Therefore the primary task in living, for any human being, is to find and do the work for which he or she was created.
Keri Smith writes about street art as a way to enrich the world around us: In an urban environment it becomes necessary to form a direct connection with the landscape, with aspects of the natural world, or with a greater community. Creating street art is one way to foster that connection. By adding to the landscape I am reclaiming it as my own--I am now an active participant in how it operates and a partial creator of its complex language. ...For a moment I am taken out of my known world and presented with an alternative, one that is unexpected and daring, one that makes me thing about the space a little differently. These little gestures...reawaken a sense of connection to the environment by pointing out something I might not have seen, but adding a new image to the world that is unexpected, or by presenting an alternate point of view.
My other grand Saturday achievement, aside from finishing the fourth Thursday Next book, spending more Christmas money on itunes, and a lot of baking, was to learn a song on the guitar. One of my 2008 Goals [in addition to monthly-plus acts of guerilla art] is to be more musical: play piano more frequently and learn more than a couple of chords on the guitar. It seemed appropriate to start out with a simple homage to my favorite movie, Stranger than Fiction. Only two chords, yes, but it qualifies as a real song. Come on, it's in a movie. Totally legit. [see the moviegoer, by walker percy, for more information on the idea that film legitimizes or 'certifies' something for modern humanity]
Sometimes it takes a whole Saturday to prepare your heart and mind for Sunday. I'm sad that it's my last day at church for a while [grad countdown is 4 months and 5 days!], but I'm excited to worship.
I think I hear the timer for my poppyseed cake going off...
I took a walk this morning and had a bowl of Acai with granola at a little cafe by my house. Then I spent time studying humanity with Dorothy L. Sayers and exploring the ideas behind guerilla art. A strange combination, but it worked well. Both books deal with the ways we as humans relate to our vocations and surroundings. You can go through life on auto-pilot, working at a job and never seeing the pattern made by the cracks in the sidewalk, or you can choose to engage. It's not easy to keep your mind and heart and sight active.
In the introduction to Sayers' essay, Mary McDermott Shideler explains: We are all equal in our creaturehood, whatever our sex, color, age, background, or abilities. But we are all different in the functions we were created to perform, as different as water from stones, and engineering from imaginative fiction. Therefore the primary task in living, for any human being, is to find and do the work for which he or she was created.
Keri Smith writes about street art as a way to enrich the world around us: In an urban environment it becomes necessary to form a direct connection with the landscape, with aspects of the natural world, or with a greater community. Creating street art is one way to foster that connection. By adding to the landscape I am reclaiming it as my own--I am now an active participant in how it operates and a partial creator of its complex language. ...For a moment I am taken out of my known world and presented with an alternative, one that is unexpected and daring, one that makes me thing about the space a little differently. These little gestures...reawaken a sense of connection to the environment by pointing out something I might not have seen, but adding a new image to the world that is unexpected, or by presenting an alternate point of view.
My other grand Saturday achievement, aside from finishing the fourth Thursday Next book, spending more Christmas money on itunes, and a lot of baking, was to learn a song on the guitar. One of my 2008 Goals [in addition to monthly-plus acts of guerilla art] is to be more musical: play piano more frequently and learn more than a couple of chords on the guitar. It seemed appropriate to start out with a simple homage to my favorite movie, Stranger than Fiction. Only two chords, yes, but it qualifies as a real song. Come on, it's in a movie. Totally legit. [see the moviegoer, by walker percy, for more information on the idea that film legitimizes or 'certifies' something for modern humanity]
Sometimes it takes a whole Saturday to prepare your heart and mind for Sunday. I'm sad that it's my last day at church for a while [grad countdown is 4 months and 5 days!], but I'm excited to worship.
I think I hear the timer for my poppyseed cake going off...
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