I'm up in Edmonton right now at an Emerge conference. As I drove up here on Sunday afternoon, I popped in the audio book of Victor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning. I had been thinking of adding it to my ELA 30-1 courseload, and I had hoped to read and plan that over the summer, but it just didn't happen. I remember reading it as a teenager when my dad gave it to me (we still swap good reading finds), but I didn't remember it well.
As I drove and listened, I was intrigued by the way I kept making connections with the class. He writes a few times about different aspects of personality or morality being snuffed out when people are in survival situations. They can, to some extent, be wiped out as a personality and a human without actually dying...although his contention is that once we've lost that 'meaning' in our lives, we are essentially defeated.
It began to dawn on me how creativity is not simply an endeavor. While listening, I started to feel that it was, for many intensive purposes, a right - an elemental part of what makes us human. And given the Nazi's overall intent in the Holocaust (aside from genocide itself) of dehumanization, this idea is almost proven in Frankl's work. Prisoners were stripped of any creative tools, creative property (Frankl himself had his original manuscript taken), and even creative ability (as best that could be taken...they were stripped of spirit). Frankl writes of people, including himself, who found creative purpose. He began rewriting his work on tiny scraps, using other unusual media. He admits that this work was what kept him alive, and he saw this hold true for others. There was hope for those that found a way to create something and a way to find beauty in their surroundings because that was one way of formulating meaning.
In the most memorable passage (that I listened to a couple of times because I LOVED it), he describes how interesting it was that some prisoners stood, admired, and enjoyed a beautiful sunset, even while it was framed by the juxtaposing barracks of the camp.
I wish I could remember some of the other connections that came to mind as I drove. If I had the time, I'd skim through the book, but that's just not happening right now. Maybe someday I'll reread with the particular intent of analyzing the role of creativity.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Playing in Solitude
After doing that class activity where we created a costume of the random items, I've been reflecting on the reality that I am very much someone who often prefers to 'play' alone. I think there may be a few reasons for that:
- As a personality, I simply enjoy solitude. I think best there, and I don't deal with distractions well. I felt very different from others as I grew up. I was most at home in my own head.
- I enjoy others and interactions with others, but I also know that I can really be a people pleaser, so when I play by myself, I get to do what I really want to do, rather than just acquiescing to someone else.
- I am easily annoyed by what others do and don't get 'serious' about. I'm not very tolerant that way, I'll admit. I also just find that I'm busy enough that I don't think of many things as being a big deal. "Just make a decision, and go with it, already!" is often the mantra that runs through my head while working and playing with others.
- I've lived and worked alone for almost eight years now (for the most part - teaching is generally quite solitary, and my husband is on the road and away from home about 80% of the time), and I think I've developed behaviors (and perhaps even neural patterns - ways of thinking) that have helped me survive and thrive in that setting. I'm a product of evolution of sorts. I've often wondered how I'll do when my environment changes.
- Even though I consider myself a fairly adept communicator, I do have a VERY difficult time communicating a vision or abstract idea to the point where someone else could create or co-create it (nor am I that good at seeing others' visions), and I'm usually too much of a control freak to let go of a vision.
- I'm fairly competitive, and competing with myself is more fun for some reason than competing against others. Maybe I like that nobody loses or gets hurt in that scenario. Maybe it's just that I feel the most evenly matched there.
- Boiled down, group play often feels enforced or contrived (therefore, not play at all, but work); whereas solitary play is spontaneous and natural.
- I'm not crazy about others seeing my process because its often messy, embarrassing, and too revealing.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
In the kitchen...
Since studying the material in this course, I've come to realize how central creativity is to the human experience. We are all creative in different spheres, and it's like we all need that creative release (in whatever form it may come) for personal catharsis and psychic equilibrium.
I'm beginning to notice the various areas of life that I enjoy some creative 'charge'. One place I've recently considered is the kitchen. I grew up in a home full of good cooking. My mom is an excellent cook, schooled in large part by her mother who could feed an entire threshing crew with an hour's notice and who knows how to use fresh, whole foods for the tastiest meals. Moreover, my dad had a natural talent in the kitchen - he's a master griller. Twice, my family owned or ran restaurants - once when I was young enough that my first memories take place there. The second time, I was twenty, and I helped design the space and the menu. Food - good food - has always been a big part of my life.
Lately I've been reflecting on the many times I've gone on a baking kick, a bread making kick, a soup kick, etc. I have been known to relax by spending hours in the kitchen. I'm just now realizing that, in large part, I enjoy it because of the creativity involved: the experimentation, the development of a final product to be aesthetically enjoyed, the chance to express myself in a unique form.
This holiday weekend, that expression that I felt the need to release was a celebration of harvest, just like is intended with Thanksgiving, and I found myself drawn to the kitchen to find an expressive form. As I wrote on my personal blog...
How fitting that on the holiday we celebrate harvest and bounty, I felt compelled to actually harvest some things from our garden? (I'm usually best at planting it, tending it, and never really using it. Maybe I run out of steam by harvest time.) Earlier this fall, I had used about a tenth of the zucchini (those plants just never stop!) to make a batch of nineteen loaves of to-die-for zucchini bread. I'd share the recipe, but then I'd have to kill you. I will say, however (for all you skeptics out there who don't believe it's really that good), a key ingredient is a great deal of chocolate chips.
Anyway, this past weekend, I decided to use up a bunch of parsnips and some carrots. I don't really remember planting the parsnips, but they're there, and they're huge! I had heard of parsnip soup, so I did a little researching and I made my own recipe that turned out pretty fantastic, if I do say so myself. It's not exact, since I made it up as I went, but if you're interested in trying it, here's what I did:
So I'm thankful. Thankful for sanity activities, like soup-making when I'm knowingly putting off overdue marking and late university work. Thankful for a family that has as much fun working together as playing together. Thankful for harvest and plenty (especially pumpkin pie with whip cream). Thankful to be a Canadian who lives close enough to the border to enjoy two Thanksgivings. And I'm thankful for memories... and the holidays that help us make those memories.
I'm beginning to notice the various areas of life that I enjoy some creative 'charge'. One place I've recently considered is the kitchen. I grew up in a home full of good cooking. My mom is an excellent cook, schooled in large part by her mother who could feed an entire threshing crew with an hour's notice and who knows how to use fresh, whole foods for the tastiest meals. Moreover, my dad had a natural talent in the kitchen - he's a master griller. Twice, my family owned or ran restaurants - once when I was young enough that my first memories take place there. The second time, I was twenty, and I helped design the space and the menu. Food - good food - has always been a big part of my life.
Lately I've been reflecting on the many times I've gone on a baking kick, a bread making kick, a soup kick, etc. I have been known to relax by spending hours in the kitchen. I'm just now realizing that, in large part, I enjoy it because of the creativity involved: the experimentation, the development of a final product to be aesthetically enjoyed, the chance to express myself in a unique form.
This holiday weekend, that expression that I felt the need to release was a celebration of harvest, just like is intended with Thanksgiving, and I found myself drawn to the kitchen to find an expressive form. As I wrote on my personal blog...
How fitting that on the holiday we celebrate harvest and bounty, I felt compelled to actually harvest some things from our garden? (I'm usually best at planting it, tending it, and never really using it. Maybe I run out of steam by harvest time.) Earlier this fall, I had used about a tenth of the zucchini (those plants just never stop!) to make a batch of nineteen loaves of to-die-for zucchini bread. I'd share the recipe, but then I'd have to kill you. I will say, however (for all you skeptics out there who don't believe it's really that good), a key ingredient is a great deal of chocolate chips.
Anyway, this past weekend, I decided to use up a bunch of parsnips and some carrots. I don't really remember planting the parsnips, but they're there, and they're huge! I had heard of parsnip soup, so I did a little researching and I made my own recipe that turned out pretty fantastic, if I do say so myself. It's not exact, since I made it up as I went, but if you're interested in trying it, here's what I did:
- Three yellow onions and a head of celery sauteed in about a cup or so of butter. Add garlic, salt, tarragon, and chili powder.
- Smother over peeled and cubed parsnips and carrots (about a 5:1 ratio of the two). As far as the overall amount of parsnips and carrots, I had enough to fully cover two large baking sheets a couple inches deep. Or put another way, when I dug them up, they filled a 3 gallon bucket - I know, these are some exact measurements.
- Roast vegetables for about 1/2 an hours, until tender and a little browned.
- Transfer to a pot, and simmer them in about a gallon of vegetable broth for another half hour or so.
- I let it sit overnight, since I was taking it to Raymond for the family to eat the next day. This may or may not have affected the taste (steeping, perhaps), but it certainly made it easier to puree when it wasn't boiling hot.
- Use a blender to puree the soup. Thin with more vegetable broth if needed. Warning: it will look like baby diarrhea... but it smells divine.
- Warm and serve with yummy crusty whole grain bread. Barry had the idea of cubing ham to put in each bowl, too - for all those guys out there who don't think you've really eaten a meal unless you've had animal protein. I have to hand it to him, though, it was a tasty idea.
- This made a giant pot - about 4 gallons of soup. You'd want to scale it back, unless you too were trying to feed and warm a family crew of 6-10 hungry workers over a couple of days.
So I'm thankful. Thankful for sanity activities, like soup-making when I'm knowingly putting off overdue marking and late university work. Thankful for a family that has as much fun working together as playing together. Thankful for harvest and plenty (especially pumpkin pie with whip cream). Thankful to be a Canadian who lives close enough to the border to enjoy two Thanksgivings. And I'm thankful for memories... and the holidays that help us make those memories.
Imagination
YAY! I was one of the first to have my name drawn for picking the MUSIC topic for our presentations. I'm glad because I was really hoping to get 'Imagination'. I've been thinking a lot about this lately, and I while I rated myself quite high in the imagination area on our personal inventories, I've begun to question that. I'm wondering a lot lately about whether imagination means that something has to be original. I've been quite heavily involved in many traditionally 'creative' endeavors because of my personal interests in the arts. For example, I'm an art minor who dabbles in small projects and teaching private lessons. I've also been quite involved with theatre, most recently directing a couple high school musical productions.
BUT here's the thing... when I draw or paint or create any other piece of art, I don't just create something out of my own head. I research. I copy. I even trace sometimes. I have to see something literally before I can draw it. I need a model of sorts. Does that mean I'm plagiarizing? I won't copy an entire piece, but if I need a bird or a face as a part of my composition, I find one that I can work from. Do I lack originality or imagination?
When I direct a play, I watch youtube clips and movie versions and take things that I like from there. (The slow motion punch in Bye Bye Birdie and some of the lines from the movie that I added to the script of Grease come to mind.) Yet I still feel like the end result is my vision, and of course, my students always do it better because they're just, well...mine. But that sentiment illustrates exactly the problem with how difficult it can be to detach ourselves from our own work and accurately gauge imaginative thought and work. Does imagination mean that I have dreamt up something new and groundbreaking, or is enough to be 'inspired' (in large or small measure) by something else? This is especially thought-provoking for me when I try to consider all the implications brought on by the information age. I see many students who think their work is original when they've blatantly copied. I think our definitions of original are built on some culturally shifting sand.
Moreover, I sometimes wonder if the idea of original thought or idea is a fallacy anyway. I think even when it seems something is completely our own, really it's an amalgam of subconscious influences and outside prompts, with perhaps a unique tweak that is original. I wouldn't mind exploring this as I work on this presentation. I know I will concentrate on the use of prompts to get our imaginations going because I love using them in the classroom and when I personally feel creatively stagnant.
BUT here's the thing... when I draw or paint or create any other piece of art, I don't just create something out of my own head. I research. I copy. I even trace sometimes. I have to see something literally before I can draw it. I need a model of sorts. Does that mean I'm plagiarizing? I won't copy an entire piece, but if I need a bird or a face as a part of my composition, I find one that I can work from. Do I lack originality or imagination?
When I direct a play, I watch youtube clips and movie versions and take things that I like from there. (The slow motion punch in Bye Bye Birdie and some of the lines from the movie that I added to the script of Grease come to mind.) Yet I still feel like the end result is my vision, and of course, my students always do it better because they're just, well...mine. But that sentiment illustrates exactly the problem with how difficult it can be to detach ourselves from our own work and accurately gauge imaginative thought and work. Does imagination mean that I have dreamt up something new and groundbreaking, or is enough to be 'inspired' (in large or small measure) by something else? This is especially thought-provoking for me when I try to consider all the implications brought on by the information age. I see many students who think their work is original when they've blatantly copied. I think our definitions of original are built on some culturally shifting sand.
Moreover, I sometimes wonder if the idea of original thought or idea is a fallacy anyway. I think even when it seems something is completely our own, really it's an amalgam of subconscious influences and outside prompts, with perhaps a unique tweak that is original. I wouldn't mind exploring this as I work on this presentation. I know I will concentrate on the use of prompts to get our imaginations going because I love using them in the classroom and when I personally feel creatively stagnant.
Monday, October 5, 2009
face painting
So as might be expected with my passion for Halloween and dressing up, I have developed a love for and some skill with face painting. This past week was a great opportunity to express myself and be creative in that arena because our school's student council put on a big spirit week.
Each day was devoted to some fun school spirit boosting activity, and every day was blue and white day. On Monday, we started decorating our classrooms for a contest. On Tuesday, the cafeteria served blue and white fare. On Wednesday, third block classes dressed their teachers in another contest. (Mine made me into a giant hall pass - a new thing at our school, so it was funny in a very timely way.) On Thursday we were supposed to paint our faces, and Friday was dubbed "Extreme Blue and White Day." It's no surprise that these last two days were my favorite.
I found it interesting during a week where I wasn't feeling well, was completely exhausted, and was characteristically managing to procrastinate my marking and coursework, I mustered the energy and time to take part in spirit week with such gusto. I think it's because creative activity, while it is definitely hard work is an energizing endeavor. It's almost a physics given... a momentum gaining action or a friction-building. It's electric. It expends energy to create energy. At any rate, while not all creative activities produce it, there are definitely some that I get a real charge from... and that was needed this week.
Each day was devoted to some fun school spirit boosting activity, and every day was blue and white day. On Monday, we started decorating our classrooms for a contest. On Tuesday, the cafeteria served blue and white fare. On Wednesday, third block classes dressed their teachers in another contest. (Mine made me into a giant hall pass - a new thing at our school, so it was funny in a very timely way.) On Thursday we were supposed to paint our faces, and Friday was dubbed "Extreme Blue and White Day." It's no surprise that these last two days were my favorite.
I found it interesting during a week where I wasn't feeling well, was completely exhausted, and was characteristically managing to procrastinate my marking and coursework, I mustered the energy and time to take part in spirit week with such gusto. I think it's because creative activity, while it is definitely hard work is an energizing endeavor. It's almost a physics given... a momentum gaining action or a friction-building. It's electric. It expends energy to create energy. At any rate, while not all creative activities produce it, there are definitely some that I get a real charge from... and that was needed this week.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Two Hours
We were assigned the task last week of taking at least two hours to devote to an activity about which we are passionate and that would force us to be creative. I immediately asked about the possibility of dividing the two hours into two activities. My reasoning for this was that one of my favorite weekend activities is to go lane swimming.
My husband and I like to go on a Sunday afternoon to the Max Bell and spend about hour in the pool. We usually do 80-100 laps. It’s great exercise. It’s also something we enjoy together, which is important because with his job, we don’t get a lot of ‘couple time’. (I especially like that it’s one of the few sports that he doesn’t have an advantage in – he’s a extremely fast runner and a strong guy who lifts weights daily. Generally, I’m left in his dust, but in a pool, I can return the favor and leave him in my wake. This is petty, I know, but it’s real nonetheless.) More relevant to this course, lane swim has always (well, ever since I began competitive swimming at nine-years-old) been the most mind-clearing activity I can do. I can lose track of time. I can think deeply, or I can completely zone out and think of nothing. It’s when I’m most mentally relaxed – besides, perhaps, when I’m in a deep sleep.
As I explained in a paper for another course, “on a very interesting level, I have a strong communication with water. I have never felt afraid of water. Family legend holds that the natal nurses used me for bathing demonstrations for all the new moms because I loved the water, unlike most newborns. My mom used to bath me to calm me. As I grew, I was a natural swimmer; when my mom finally put me in lessons, I skipped several levels. I swam competitively, and I trained and worked as a lifeguard for several years, also teaching lessons and coaching swim club. I often dream of water… I’ve always felt at home in water. If I were classified in the archaic elements, I’d be water. [Water itself has become a metaphor] for feeling connected and capable."
The second thing I did this week for the other hour (okay, admittedly I may have gotten carried away and spent a little more time than that) was deciding on and planning for this year’s Halloween costume. Halloween is arguably my favorite holiday season. I have a blast every year decorating my classroom and my house, but my favorite Halloween activity (besides munching those mini chocolate bars) is dressing up. I love doing something creative and creepy. This year, I have a headless ghoul planned.
Some past costumes include…
My husband and I like to go on a Sunday afternoon to the Max Bell and spend about hour in the pool. We usually do 80-100 laps. It’s great exercise. It’s also something we enjoy together, which is important because with his job, we don’t get a lot of ‘couple time’. (I especially like that it’s one of the few sports that he doesn’t have an advantage in – he’s a extremely fast runner and a strong guy who lifts weights daily. Generally, I’m left in his dust, but in a pool, I can return the favor and leave him in my wake. This is petty, I know, but it’s real nonetheless.) More relevant to this course, lane swim has always (well, ever since I began competitive swimming at nine-years-old) been the most mind-clearing activity I can do. I can lose track of time. I can think deeply, or I can completely zone out and think of nothing. It’s when I’m most mentally relaxed – besides, perhaps, when I’m in a deep sleep.
As I explained in a paper for another course, “on a very interesting level, I have a strong communication with water. I have never felt afraid of water. Family legend holds that the natal nurses used me for bathing demonstrations for all the new moms because I loved the water, unlike most newborns. My mom used to bath me to calm me. As I grew, I was a natural swimmer; when my mom finally put me in lessons, I skipped several levels. I swam competitively, and I trained and worked as a lifeguard for several years, also teaching lessons and coaching swim club. I often dream of water… I’ve always felt at home in water. If I were classified in the archaic elements, I’d be water. [Water itself has become a metaphor] for feeling connected and capable."
The second thing I did this week for the other hour (okay, admittedly I may have gotten carried away and spent a little more time than that) was deciding on and planning for this year’s Halloween costume. Halloween is arguably my favorite holiday season. I have a blast every year decorating my classroom and my house, but my favorite Halloween activity (besides munching those mini chocolate bars) is dressing up. I love doing something creative and creepy. This year, I have a headless ghoul planned.
Some past costumes include…
Vampire (2007)
Hockey Player (2008)
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