Contemporary art and hormones, probably
Friday, January 20, 2012 at 12:06AM Ugh. Today I am overstimulated, sensory-wise. Everything seems so loud, especially the young women sitting behind me in my Gender and Social Justice class, talking about how hard philosophy is. I'm finding it impossible to think with people talking around me. The snow plows outside sound like monsters and make me want to kill myself and then eat five cakes. And I don't want to learn anything new. I don't want to discuss consumerism and how it's eating away our self-esteem and pocket books and how this hand-stitched and stuffed blob on a steel pole reflects this... supposedly. I don't want to discuss how to save this creature and that soul and how English imperialism spawned the propaganda-driven glorification of motherhood as a way of blaming mothers for high infant mortality rates, rather than admitting that the state should step in to ease poverty and lack of education and poor health, to increase the number of citizens (and thus future soldiers). I don't want to discuss the paradox of all the problems in the world we need to solve so that we can be happy and yet how we need these problems so that we can have something to solve and thus be happy because with utter peace and serenity we would be bored out of our minds and our brains would turn to mush and we'd die out.
I just want to sit on a grassy hill, overlooking the ocean, in Tibet, near a jungle, with a person I love, and hold and be held and not talk. Is that so much to ask? And then when that silence has soothed enough fray, I want to read and write poetry. And that's it. For days. That's all I want to do.
Instead, I endured the most frustrating art class today. This artist came in to show slides of her work and discuss it and she could barely pin down one useful comment about her work. I made notes of criticism, because we are assigned to write journal entries after these presentations and after half the class was done and I couldn't find anything meaningful to say about her work because I couldn't follow her empty musings, I realised that the problem wasn't me, it was her. She said mainly vague things such as,
"The piece helped communicate certain aspects to the viewer." AND THEN LEFT IT AT THAT. What aspects? How did it help communicate?
"...an experience worth thinking about." Isn't everything, to a degree?
"I thought that was kind of a strong statement." A statement of WHAT? Why? She didn't say!
"There's a certain rhythm." Of what kind? Why is it important?
"The obscene is a personal survival mechanism." How so?
"It kind of has a duality." How? Never said.
She must have said "kind of" about twenty-five times. And when students asked her really fantastic questions about oh, modernism and post-modernism intersecting and where, and something about binary gender roles, she didn't follow but tried to pretend she did. She replied back with something about modernism and the Cartesian self and didn't explain what she meant by that, how they were related, what they meant to her, how they were reflected in her art.
So, then she had these bulbous stuffed fabric thingies impaled on steel poles and she said that some people could only see strippers on a pole and then said like she was miffed, "If that's all people see, well, then that's all they see but there's more there." Or something like that. So, I raised my hand and asked, "What does this piece mean to you?" And she said really defensively, "Well, I was about to get to that!" I was shocked. For one thing, she didn't explain that about any of her pieces so far, so why was I jumping the gun? And secondly, why not smile and say, "I'm glad you want to know. I was just about to get to that." And then she said more about this piece than any other, as if that was her plan all along and most of it was very vague but then there was something good about using green because it was a military colour and it was ironic because are we really free in a consumerist society? Something along those lines.
One of her pieces was a part of a series called "The pa ra-dox of t*he a-bsu-rd" (writing it that way so it's hopefully not findable by her via Google) and does that even make sense? and it was just this black fabric blob with white ovals printed on the fabric, and it kind of looked like a bean bag chair with bulges. Sigh. I wish I could say it inspired me.
So, anyway. This student made a really astute comment about how her work could be saying something about how we're all vulnerable and in pieces and stitched together and something about society and Frankenstein. Don't remember. But it was good. And she said, "I hadn't thought of that." Yeah. Artists who cannot explain what is profound about their work better than a first year university student? I don't know....
One could argue that the artist doesn't have to be anything other than a creator, that she is pulling from her subconscious, listening to her genius, and it is up to us to find meaning in it. I get it. I think.
But I couldn't get away with that as a writer. I can't just sling a bunch of random words together like hash and then expect other people to say what's meaningful about it and then take the credit for how great it is. If I can't justify the use of a word or a sentence, then it doesn't belong there.
I mean, why can't anyone just throw together a bunch of crap (literally, even!), put it on a platform and say that it "suggests something" about the loss of agrarian societies? And then not say what that "something" is and how it suggests that exactly.
The class made me feel like contemporary art is a fraud, or that some art is a fraud. That it's all about knowing the right people and being pretty and doing something a bit different, even if you can't say why the hell you did it. And the whole time I could hear my ex sitting beside me, his snide comments drowned out only by the rolling of his eyes. And I totally agreed with him.
So, I left and phoned Joelle and was venting to her about the class, thinking surely I was the only one to think it was inarticulate, vague, frustrating rubbish, when I started to close in on a woman in black venting loudly into her phone about this class she just left.
"And then someone asked her what her art meant to her and she seemed pissed off! And she was just asking. And she just wanted to stand there and read her thesis, which seemed like it was mostly other people's ideas." And I tapped her arm and asked if she was talking about the same class I was in and she said yes and I said it was me who asked the question and we were both marvelling at how much we hated the class and as we parted ways I could hear her still complaining to her friend about how strange and meaningless the discussion was.
And I was not alone. I should have invited her to my Tibetan jungle ocean-view hill.
And I'm behind in my readings and the internet has turned my attention span to that of a toddler's. I have a date tomorrow with someone who seems sweet and interesting and likable and I don't think it will make a good first impression to collapse into a chair in front of her with a bottle of wine I've already half-chugged on the way over and say, "Can you do all the talking?" But that's how I feel.
So, I think I'll be shutting down my Facebook page for a week or two, and will try to minimise my email checking to once a day, and am going to try harder at meditating.
Zzzzzzz.
Reader Comments (8)
Sounds like you are in school!
If I could go back to school right now, and had the time and money, I would only take one or two classes at a time, so I could really soak them up. That way they could resonate in my life, and then still percolate in my thoughts some more, rather than cramming a bunch of different subjects into one semester.
The downside to that would be that if you got a dud, like art class, you'd be stuck with it. But then I'd just drop that class (preferably after learning from word of mouth who is the really awesome art teacher) and pick up a different one.
However, lowly freshmen don't get that option. Just think. You'll be the one laughing down when you are a senior, taking first pick of the courses offered, rather than the one consigned to grasping at whatever is left by the time you pick your courses!
I love school. Love, love, love. I love learning. I took a couple of classes at a local community college a few years ago, which was so invigorating, even though I was extra tired as a newly pregnant mom (I walked with my bachelor's just 3 days before I had my first baby. I started some re-certification classes when I didn't know I was newly pregnant with my third. Couldn't figure out why I was soooo exhausted)
The only thing that was frustrating to me was the salty language on campus in the foyers and during any casual downtime during and in between classes. I once took a test in a foyer to test out of a lower music class, and struggled to concentrate because the f word was being thrown around so casually every few moments by chatting students. At the time I had only lived out of Utah for a few years, and rarely heard that swear or other "harder" swears. Even growing up in Utah I heard plenty of language in the hallways of my schools, but they were more casual words. And then I attended Ricks and BYU for college, so I was away from pretty much any language for 4 years before we moved out of state.
I don't bring this up because now you feel more comfortable using language because you free from the mormon sentiment that it's unbecoming.
I brought it up because it was part of my memory of college, and I've never understood why, when, of all the language we have to articulate our thoughts and emotions, we continue to use cussing to punctuate our words. I like using creativity in expressing myself. And this is a literary blog, so I decided to run with it, because I think it's a literary
Now, I do admit that there are some moments where strategically using the phrase "What the hell" makes a point pretty poignant. But where's the creativity in that? Where's the literary prowess? How about "What the helicopter?," just to mix things up? A friend of mine chose (of her own accord, not because I said anything about her language) to back off on her language as she got to know me better and observed that I didn't cuss. What was so fun about this was that she started talking about hippo bunk and other such creative substitutions. It made our conversations funnier, and I think we've actually both had a lot of fun with it.
Online, if I am in a forum and something really strikes my funny bone, I have been known to type "laughing my ankles off!" I thought it was pretty funny one time when someone wrote back, "Um, I don't think that's what lmao means." Once they found out I was doing it on purpose, they cracked up. From then on it became a joke, and people started coming up with all kinds of funny words that I think enhanced the chat dynamic.
Of course, I've always joked that if you are trying to show someone you're mad at them, anyone can lift a specific finger. But there's no energy in that. If you really want to show someone you're angry, wouldn't they know you took the time and effort to make a point of showing your irritation/anger, by taking your shoe and sock off and sticking your entire foot out the window? I mean, come on, they couldn't miss your intention then. And it's so original! ; ) I crack me up.
This should totally be a post on my blog. I honestly think that even if I weren't mormon, this is just something about me personally, that I love the use of words, and think we can be so much more articulate without cussing. I used to watch Dr. Phil faithfully when he first moved to his own show, and his words often fit really well in my ear. When he explained that common sense isn't common, and then broke it down and was blunt about how we can better interact with those around us, I ate it up. But his language the first season was so peppered with language that it was hard for me to focus on the messages. I was pleased when he ditched it by the 2nd season. He still had other issues (he's another person who overuses "kind of"), but it was much easier to follow what he was teaching.
You can be irritated with me and think I'm trying to not-so-subtly criticize you or ask you to swear less in your posts, but that's not my intention, even though I know I made a comment a long time ago. This is your blog, and I love you and it enough to see past the language, and if it bothers me, that's my problem. I really am bringing it up because I think a lot about literacy when I'm commenting on your blog, and it flowed naturally from my experience at community college. : )
So, anyhoo, now I'd better stop procrastinating the final details of our upcoming pinewood derby (I'm the cubmaster, and the race is Tues night) and, if you're a reaaaaaaally good girl, you won't see my message for a couple of weeks. ; )
But, if you're like me, you'll end up checking your email/blog without even thinking, and you'll have at least skimmed this today, as the impulse to check for updates is a pretty strong and automatic one. : )
ps. One of my sneaky strategies in college was showing up to a class that was "full," for a session or two, and just waiting to see if all of the people who signed up stayed in the class. More than once, they ended up being enough drops or no-shows that the teacher allowed me to stay in the class and helped me get it officially on my schedule, and then I just dropped the alternate class that I only chose because it was better than nothing. Keep that in mind. : )
That's actually how I got into a particular literary class where we read and studied classics like Dante's Inferno. LOVED that class.
Yeah, I haven't ditched Facebook yet and restricted my email habits. I think I'll start today.
I didn't take your comments about language to have anything to do with my blog. I rarely swear on my blog and if someone doesn't like it, I don't care. They can stop reading my blog. I do keep out more bad language than you know. Sometimes use of it can be hilarious because of irony, because of juxtaposition, because of exaggeration. Like, when I was really afraid of liking my friend too much because he isn't ready for a long-term or any committed relationship and will likely be moving this year, I groaned when I would discover more wonderful things about him. And my best friend Joelle totally "got it". The dilemma, the fear. I don't need to fall in love with someone who is unavailable to me, so I keep working at not doing so. Anyway. So, I text her and say something to the effect of, "More good news. He gave his kidney away to a friend." And she texts back, "That motherfucker!" And it slayed me. That comment was unexpected, exaggerated in appropriateness, ironic in one sense, but totally astute in another. And that's our running gag now. I text again on another day to say that when Paul was a kid and asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, he said, "A grandma." And every time I look at him and think about this, I want to make him twenty babies. What does Joelle have to say about that? "Motherfucker." I don't know how anyone could not find that funny. Ah, Joelle and Paul are awesome.
Anyway.
If we substitute one gesture for another gesture, and the substitution catches on, it becomes just as obscene as the original gesture. It's so arbitrary. Words are arbitrary. They don't have to bother us. It's all about how much emotional attachment we give to certain words, what we choose to believe about what others have told us about those words. I know someone who gets upset about the word "crap". Most people don't. So, should the rest of us stop saying "crap" because she's taken it upon herself to find that word offensive? No. So, why then, with "ass" or "hell"? At a certain point, society DOES decide something by common consent and then "fuck" does become a word that is more likely to offend. But I'm all for questioning societal inventions of the mind.
Here's an example: The comedian Louis CK, in his recent Live at the Beacon Theatre show, which he sold on his site for $5 (that you should not watch because it's full of "salty" language and really crass jokes) said that he recently met up with someone he knew from his early days as a comedian when he worked at this location and I think the man who owned the club was gay, and Louis said that this guy was always trying to have sex with him. And his friend said, "No! Really? What did he do? Was he grabbing you or something?" "Well, no." "Was he trying to get you to go back to his place or would he try to talk you into sex?" "No." And eventually the story became, "There once was a gay guy." His young self perceived homosexuality in such a way that he took everything this guy said as a come on, and even his existence was evidence that he wanted to have sex with all men, including Louis. And this mix-up in his head would never happen now that he's older but he still remembered it this way, all these years later.
It's possible that college wasn't quite what you remember it to be, but you were soooo sheltered that you had an observational bias, your ears picking out every single swear word and you would weight them more than other parts of conversation. And you could have weighted this part of college over the years more than maybe was fair. There are probably people swearing around me all the time and I don't even notice. And the result is that I'm not offended.
I love my art class. I just hated this presentation by this visiting artist. I checked out RateMyProfs.com before I signed up for my classes. All my profs are pretty great. They're all very young and kinda cute.
I know the following is a very long response to your response, but I did craft it very carefully, even though it doesn't have much to do with college or hormones. Feel free to wait a week or two to even read it.
>Sometimes use of [cussing] can be hilarious because of irony, because of juxtaposition, because of exaggeration.
I agree that certain words can be pretty funny because of where and how they’re strategically placed, like you making up the word “garlickier” in your recent tagline about being happier, etc.
But cussing is often unnecessary or overused, and when one wants to use words, there are so many other words that more descriptively express opinion. Plus, creativity with substitutions/alterations when you do want to be hilarious with irony, juxtaposition, exaggeration, etc is just so much more clever. It often changes the dynamic enough that the substitution is not considered coarse at all.
Swearing is just problematic to me, just as pushing religion as a reason for decisions is simply problematic to the athiest friend of mine that I referenced in my last comment (the one who makes up words with me that also becoming running gags for us).
I also think cussing is like reading a lot of poor grammar, syntax, etc. in writing when it’s overused. If a sentence is poorly written, and I have to re-read it because it's awkward or punctuation is used incorrectly or whatnot, it pulls me away from the message that the author intends. I have friends who often ask me to edit their books to look for just such spots, because they want the reader to either be able to maintain their suspension of disbelief in a good novel, or they want the reader to easily follow the flow of the book, and not put it down due to its choppiness. (Notice I don’t follow the things I edit when I write casually; from using semicolons incorrectly and writing disjointedly, to writing huge run-on sentences or ending with prepositions, to overusing parentheses and going off on tangents!)
>If we substitute one gesture for another gesture, and the substitution catches on, it becomes just as obscene as the original gesture. It's so arbitrary.
I do get you on cuss words being arbitrary. Growing up, even replacement words were considered not ok, like crud, crap, or suck. My mom was a convert to our church, but was already very conservative as a person even though her mom and three sisters were not. But my mom also feels strongly about the meanings that have been attached to words. The other day my aunt was on the phone with me, and said "We feel jipped when..." and I responded with where my mom felt "jipped." My mom was sitting next to me, and she gasped and said, "Those aren't my words! I would never say that!" Surprised, I asked her why, and she told me later that the word jipped was originally meant as a racist term against gypsies. It has become so common as a word meaning "losing out" or "ripped off," that I never knew its origin.
Still, in society right now, all over the world, there are several words that are pretty standardized as cuss words, and there are admittedly different levels of severity acknowledged, enough that television stations (at least in the U.S.) have regulations on what words can be used during daytime hours vs. evening hours (i.e. when little kids are more likely to have the tv on). U.S. movies have ratings, that, while they differ from place to place, are graded on what language, violence or nudity is or is not there, so customers are well-informed before they watch/purchase.
>So, should the rest of us stop saying "crap" because she's taken it upon herself to find that word offensive?
I’m really torn on this issue. My bff thinks that asking someone to change how they talk around me or my children is telling them what to do, and thus arrogant. Who am I to tell someone else how to act?
On the other hand, if someone ever said, "Oh, please don't talk about that," or anything similar, I would respect that it was something touchy for them, be it language or certain subjects, like infertility.
So, in the past, if I saw someone often enough and felt that they would understand, I did politely ask a friend here or there not to take the name of God in vain around my kids or me. I figured that if I said something, someone else
1) could choose how they reacted, and the worst they could say was, "If you don't like it, deal with it or don't hang around me," and that, at the very least,
2) They were aware that it was something touchy for me.
I found people to be very receptive, and often people toned down their language just by virtue of me not using language in my dialogue.
Because of an experience a couple of years ago, and my bff’s candid and valid points, I’m so torn now. I haven’t said anything to anyone anymore, except neighbor kids who are playing in my house or yard. When they say God’s name in vain, I just smile and say, “gosh,” and now they don’t do it in our house. We’re talking about nine yr old kids, though—I’m talking to them as a mom, not a peer.
But there have been times that I haven't even been aware of something, and once someone raises my awareness (Ahem, like staying on topic in the comments section,) ; - ), it’s a no brainer. I respect my friends and want to be courteous to them, and would much rather they tell me if something bothers them. I still use the old G..I. Joe cartoon adage: “Knowing is half the battle.”
Now here’s another thought about simply being courteous of what type of language we use in different situations. We already adjust our language depending on how casual or formal our situation or friend group is. Is that so different from being courteous with people where you’re aware that foul language is sensitive to their ears?
I doubt in the middle of a business board meeting, or formal job interview, you would drop an “f bomb,” or other coarser swears. But you may use words that are considered fairly common and less offending, like “damn,” or “hell,” if that was standard in the semi-formal group you were in. If someone was in the middle of a public grocery store and frustrated with a clerk, and there were little children close by (or even if there no kids were present), most people probably wouldn’t openly cuss at the clerk. But when you and Joelle are joking, via cussing, it's something that feels comfortable to both of you and is an inside joke that is meaningful and endearing.
>you were soooo sheltered that you had an observational bias, your ears picking out every single swear word and you would weight them more than other parts of conversation. And you could have weighted this part of college over the years more than maybe was fair. There are probably people swearing around me all the time and I don't even notice. And the result is that I'm not offended.
I have never heard so much cussing in one place, from so many people, before or after that community college experience, IRL. I don’t think I’m weighting that experience unevenly. Perhaps in that area it was a very casual part of life; and most of the students were young single things, where language is often used more casually. But I admit that I definitely weighted cuss words stronger than others because I wasn’t used to hearing them. Now it doesn't phase me to hear cussing depending on the situation--especially where I'm prepared that it may happen. One time I commented personally to you because a word took me off guard, as I wasn't expecting to see it in your otherwise very clean posts at the time. Plus I felt like I knew you well enough, and you understood me well enough, that you would know I wasn't judging you by expressing my surprise.
Yet I wasn’t offended at the people. It was just extremely noticeable to my ears when I was trying to concentrate on taking that test out in the foyer, and felt much too timid in the moment to say anything, for fear they would think I was judgmental, or that any way I made a comment it would have been taken wrong.
Now I’m in such a different place. I either would have mentioned to the professor that the foyer was quite noisy, could I take the test in her office, or I would have turned and either joked out loud, “Shhhh, trying to take a test here!” or just frankly mentioned that I was taking a test, could they keep it to a dull roar, just raising their awareness that someone was trying to concentrate. They probably would have taken their conversation down to the next foyer, or quieted down for a few minutes, just out of courtesy. I would not even have felt the need to say something about the language, but would have focused on the fact that I am very ADD, and had no quiet place for my test.
Back to being offended; being offended, and words sounding offensive to my ears, are two different things, IMO. The friendship I enjoyed most in one of the classes I took was with a middle-aged guy who also had such a sailor mouth that he really wasn’t saying anything; the cussing just flowed, thick with variety. But I didn’t crack any joke about having sensitive ears right at the beginning of knowing him, and never had the heart to tell him that my little delicate ears were not used to all those words.
I was most definitely sheltered, but my nature was also to shelter myself. I think the only cussing I ever heard from my dad was maybe 3 times in my life where he was mad enough he used the common cuss word "damn." I've never heard my mom swear, ever. So I grew up expressing my opinions without needing to cuss. In high school English, I was really irritated with Ray Bradbury’s book “Farenheit 451” because of incessant common swears that had nothing to do with the storyline; I think I actually blacked some of them out. Yet once our teacher helped us dissect the book, it became one of my favorites as a piece of literature, as huge with social commentary as “The Hunger Games,” though the former focuses more on removing books from society, while the latter expands on so many more social ills than just mindless and constant input without time to think to oneself.
But I also sheltered myself from sex talk as well, if it was crude or crass. I just had no desire to be a part of it, since I think it’s special and wonderful and the way people talked about it made it seem dirty or casual or diminished in value. I don’t think sex is cheap or commonplace, just as you have expressed as well.
I am also someone who just doesn't think bathroom jokes are funny, either, and never have. Just like cussing, I think they're unnecessary and detract from the actual funny-ness of a good movie, book, or tv show. But then again, I'm already really opinionated about what I think is funny. I love a good, clever zinger over a cheesy, overdone bathroom joke or food fight that always makes kids laugh. Last night my in-laws took us to dinner and the waiter was very subtly raising an eyebrow (with his words; not literally) at my MIL and I being control-freaks about the details of ordering the food. It amused me that he was laughing at me/mocking me, and I enjoyed bantering with him the rest of the night.
See why I said this should be a blog post on my own site? Rather than hijacking your comment section.
ps. Missed that the artist was a visiting one, not the teacher. Phew. Ratemyprofs.com is definitely way after my time in college. And the story getting boiled down to, "One there was a gay guy" is pretty funny and definitely says a lot as well.
Pps. And I love a good-looking professor, guy or girl. It makes it easier to “hear” what they say. It shouldn't, but it does. Charisma also helps.
Kim, you make some good points. And yes, we tailor our language to occasions and people and that is well and good.
Cuss word are not valueless, or else they'd cease to exist. I agree that overuse is obnoxious. So is the overuse of the word "like".
I find everything to be funny. It's a happy way to be.
1. I wish I had someone to rant to who wouldn't judge everything I say and try to make me see things from another angle. I just need to rant sometimes and don't have someone who will just listen. I do appreciate when people help me see things differently, but ARGH! I'm human too. I'm kinda jealous. ;) (i.e. Joelle)
2. I sent my email off to you about meditating before reading this post. Are you using a particular method for meditation? Did you read a book or website? I was just wondering if you found something you are happy with. I know it takes a lot of discipline too. That's where I sometimes fail. On the follow-through.
3. We visited the conservatory in Columbus, OH today and there was a Himalayan mountain room (possibly Tibetan). It was very peaceful there. However, it was a cloudy, foggy, closed-in kind of day. I need something to keep me from hyper-ventilating until Spring and the sunshine arrive.
Cindi, your first comment seemed to come out of nowhere. Yes, I'm lucky to have Joelle. If I had more time, I'd tell you to call me. But I honestly don't. You're always free to send an email and I'll get to it when I do (usually right away because I'll put off other things I should be doing).
I don't remember an email about meditating. No, I haven't found anything special. I bought a magazine because it had an article about finding the right style for you. I haven't found mine yet. But I did do a bit of meditating this morning, just kept trying to clear my mind and just listen to the traffic. Even if I just do that for a couple of minutes a few times a day, I am hoping it will help me to focus. I don't have anxiety anymore but it probably would have been really good for that.
Yeah, I need some sun, fast. If tomorrow is sunny, it will be an awesome day. Get to accept my award and hang with Paul and my sister. And it's an excuse to skip English.
Hang in there! Have you heard the song Sydney I'll Come Running by Brett Dennan? It's a fave. pick-me-up song.
You're right! Sorry! That *was* off topic. I have a really off-the-wall mind. I make comments at home all of the time and my kids just look at me. Luckily, my husband knows me well enough by now and usually laughs and then we laugh together. I would never expect anyone to volunteer to be my "rant" person. It was just a moment of self-absorbed self pity. Thanks for your sweet offer though!
I think I'm going to start putting aside a few minutes for meditation practice. I try to do it at night, but it's not working. I usually fall asleep. Sleep is nice too, but I think I could use the meditation.