Note: No disrespect or copyright infringement intended, merely an observation, an inspiration, and a mechanism for expressing my current emotional state.
If Joyce Kilmer were allergic:
Trees
I THINK that I shall never see A poem lethal as a tree.
A tree whose only goal to sneeze Pollen ‘to earth's flowing breeze;
A tree, as I, to God doth pray, For another breath, another day;
A tree, that in summer makes Air I breathe; it, in irony takes;
Upon whose bosom snow, now is freezing; ‘Ere the Season, I’m free from wheezing,
To coexist? the cure, tis plain We intimately live with rain.
Poems are played by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.
Today was the last day of Finals Week for me, 3 exams down, 1 final presentation to go. The class? Watercolor Painting. On a scale of hours needed to complete the work assigned, it ranks somewhere between Technical Theater and Biology 101, and although stressful working with a deadline, a more enriching experience.
As it turns out, this class has provided the practice I needed in letting go of my perfectionist ideals. A great example of this is the painting posted here. I chose the composition with the intention of painting every rock individually. How crazy is that? Before you answer that, apply it to every aspect of my Parenthood/Student/Employee/Artist life. See?
As an artist, my favorite style of painting is Impressionism, the idea that an image can be produced, with or without a random technique, and every brush stroke and drop of paint can appear so deliberate and natural. With Impressionism, you often have to step back and view it from a distance to understand it completely.
So this morning I loaded up the car for school. My framed painting, ready for display in the student art show this Spring, my portfolio and an extra pane of picture frame glass. My portfolio, a soft-sided 2x3 carrier, which I had leaned against the car fell over when I turned the key to unlock the trunk, but the glass inside was unharmed.
I felt lucky, but at the same time, confused. Why did I bring a sheet of glass that I had no intention of using? Rushed for time, I carefully laid it flat in the trunk and continued on to school. I slipped into the classroom and quietly made my way around the back to my usual table, glancing at the variety of paintings my classmates had on the tables in front of them.
Just as I approached my table, an unbelievable scene played out in front of me. One of my classmates had apparently dropped his framed painting and broken the glass from corner to corner, I could feel the disappointment and sadness he must have felt, trying to decide what to do next. I just stood staring in disbelief for a moment and then trying to calm myself and not draw too much attention, I offered him my extra glass.
His shock and gratitude was equal to the satisfaction I felt at being able to help him. When he proudly displayed his work at the front of the class for his presentation, the entire class, including the instructor seemed to let out a sigh of relief, they had, I guess, been witness to the accident. His presentation was a success. And the pride I had in my own paintings now paled in comparison to the aura of positivity that blanketed the room. Call it lucky, coincidence or fate, sometimes the small things that we need come to us by strange random happenstance, but the residual effects can be interminable.
Those who are aware of my Strengths might cite this event as proof: Learner, Positivity, Achiever, Connectedness, and Woo. If this can be considered "Woo", I think those of us endowed with the "diplomatic" strength can stand proud. *sings* "It takes Woo to make a thing go ri-ight, it takes Woo to make it out of site" I'm sure that's what Soul II Soul meant. ;)
My take on the situation? God. Yeah, not all miracles are earth-shaking, cloud-breaking, sunlight streaming, and a choir of angels singing events. And I don't need the voice of James Earl Jones to answer all my questions. Happy St. Patrick's Day, have a Safe Spring Break, look out Spring Term, here I come!
The following represents my response to The Paradox of Fiction as presented in this article: http://www.iep.utm.edu/fict-par/(bolded type are quoted from the article)
A paradox is something that conflicts with itself.
Fiction is a creation that has been imagined and does not represent reality.
Based on "Replies From My Critics" by Colin Radford:
Fiction conflicts with itself when we are emotionally moved by something that is fake. Emotional response to fiction is irrational.
1. We have to believe the fiction can exist or has existed.
2."Existence Beliefs" aren't present when we read what we know is fiction.
3.Fictional Characters are capable of moving us.
Do we use our imagination to believe in fiction?
Are the emotions we feel fake?
(Stanislovsky taught using emotions from previous real events to appear to feel the same emotion in a fictional event "Emoting")
Some solutions:
1.Our emotional responses to fiction are "make-believe".
2."existence beliefs" aren't necessary for emotional response.
3.There is nothing wrong with having an emotional response to something that becomes an illusion of reality.
Colin Radford believes, our ability to respond emotionally to fictional characters and events is “irrational, incoherent, and inconsistent”
I disagree, when we can relate to fiction, it's by recalling similar real experience, the emotions we invoke are real, rational responses, although this may occur on a subconscious level, where we are not aware of it, I don't believe it is as inconsistent as Radford says.
Believing that emotions are recalled from past experience, makes "existence beliefs" unnecessary, even when we knowingly participate in fiction (reading, watching) we are still reminded of how we've felt in the past, in similar situations, and so it appears we are responding to the fiction, when in fact we are responding to our own experiences or memories of real events in our past. (Heartbreak, Death, Clumsiness, Childbirth)
Childbirth is a great example, the emotions run the gammet, from fear and anxiety, to joy and rapture, before I had children, viewing a fictional childbirth somehow meant unbearable pain to me, it was equivalent to watching a guy being kicked in the balls, I had no experience so, although I could imagine pain, I only knew from what I had been told.Pain, dizzy, nauseous.Now to witness childbirth, whether fictional or in reality (ty TLC), I experience the wider range of emotional response, it isn't because I believe that the woman in the fiction is actually giving birth, it's because I have experienced it myself
I believe then, that we are not forgetting that what we are witnessing is fiction.. otherwise, along with the emotional response, we would feel a need to act, to help in some way.And in the case of horror films, I don't think the emotion we are feeling when the monster appears is truly fear, it is almost always summoned by or lead up to by creepy music and then startling us... are we afraid? Or surprised?The only fear I've taken away from fiction is when the monster is satanic, something I believe can occur in reality. (oops, existence belief) I don't think that's irrational or inconsistent.
Our responses to fictional works can seem exaggerated compared to responses to reality, because in reality we exercise restraint, if we are disgusted but don't want to appear judgmental, if we are grieving but want to appear strong, if we are entertained by something others find repugnant.
Why do we classify fictional films/books into different genres? (romantic-comedy, action-adventure, science-fiction). It's because we choose them based on how we want to feel.The strongest emotional reaction I've ever experienced to fiction, was my response to "Cape Fear" http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0101540/plotsummary, I can't remember much about the film itself, I only recall walking out of the theatre enraged at how it ended, and then suddenly coming to the understanding that perhaps that is what the Screen-Writer/Director intended for me to feel, I felt manipulated.
How can you say that emotions are consciously imagined "The Pretend Theory", when after seeing a movie where the bad guy breaks into a car and is hiding in the back seat, you exit the theatre in the dark, examining the back seat before you get into your car? Glenn Hartz's argument against Kendall Walton's "Pretend Theory" is "not that our responses to fiction are independent of belief, to be understood on the model of the startle effect, but that they are pre-conscious: that real (as opposed to pretend) beliefs which are not consciously entertained are automatically generated by certain visual stimuli. The adrenaline and cortisol are real."
"Arguing on behalf of the Thought Theory, Murray Smith invites us to “imagine gripping the blade of a sharp knife and then having it pulled from your grip, slicing through the flesh of your hand. If you shuddered in reaction to the idea, you didn’t do so because you believed that your hand was being cut by a knife”
In conclusion, I believe that our emotional responses to fiction are drawn from and relative to our own personal experience, real emotions invoked not by imagination but by recollection.The fiction more of a catalyst than a paradoxical question.
