The Last Blog. . .

I'm not quite sure what to say in this blog. . . I feel as if everything I could say, someone has already said, and I would really hate to be redundant. Also, I would hate to spoil what my paper (that I have yet to write by the way) could and probably should say. Though I will say this:


I love this class' idea of what it wanted to portray and get across. Literature isn't what everyone thinks it is. It's deep, and let's people not only read into the characters on the page, but also into themselves without even knowing it. It broadens the mind into unknown territories of imagination, where we can dream about red skies and tigers lurking in the dark, morning twilight. Where rendezvouses happen between married lovers unbeknownst to their spouses, and entire families are killed by one devious act of betrayal and/or fate. We become "unboring" so to speak, if we actually allow ourselves to delve into that scary realm of surrealism. And yes, we can even become someone completely different simply by being able to detatch ourselves from the world of the here and now. To many, that is a scary thing. Yet to me, it's the one thing I've taught myself that keeps me sane in my own chaotic and oh-so-crazy life.
This is what I have learned from reading, not what the class has taught me. I would go on to say more about the class, but I'd rather not become the antagonist that I know I'm about to become next class period. If that's not a spoiler for my paper, I don't know what is.

But either way, I shall say thank you Professor Sexson. I will not blame you, but I will praise you despite what you say. You did a wonderful job with this class, you broadened alot of young people's minds with your stolen quotes and uncanny knack for remembering names and poems. I hope someday I can teach myself to remember the things you can. So again, I thank you, thank you for everything you have done for us as a class, and thank you for everyting you have done before us, as I'm sure many people feel the same way I do.

Friday's Presentations

Group 3, I thought at first, were not well prepared for the presentation. But as the time ticked by (and not slowly), I saw more and more of what they were trying to tell us. I kind of felt that they were just giving us another example as to what the class was about, but it's hard not to when the point of the class is to "retell" stories and find hidden correlations between stories. Their video clip was really interesting, though it was not their own, which is definately ok. We're not all that talented in that department. And the game with the class was a very clever way to engage the audience, and to have a little revamp of terms from the semester. All in all, I liked it.

Group 2 had a sort of mellow drama story retelling, which was a very clever idea. As i started paying attention, I started realizing that alot of the lines and characters were drawn as inspiration from already told, and all too familiar, stories and fairy tales. I started to write them down:
-Peter Pan
-Cathedral
-Christmas Carol
-Snow White
-Sleeping Beauty
-Pinocchio
-etc. .

I'm sure there were more that influenced the story line, but those are the ones that came to mind. The group did a fabulous job at portraying 5 of the normally seen archetypal characters: The wise old man, the eternal child, the earth mother, the trickster, and (unknowingly as it turns out) the clueless protaganist. Again, all in all, a very lovely short play that clearly portrayed what they wanted to say to the audience about what they learned in class. The bar has been set very high. My group goes today, wish us all luck!!!

Thesis Statement - Hamlet and the Three Brothers K

I haven't done a whole lot of thinking about my thesis yet, or rather, I just now decided what topic I really need to think about to write this paper. While Mr. Sexson was talking in class about Jay's blog, I decided to delve into the complexity of Hamlet's mind, and how Dostoevesky did a SUPERB job at splitting that personality into the three Brothers Karamozov. I know this was not the main intention, but all the same, it is an interesting thought to think about. How can one character from almost 400 years ago be so complex that a Russian author successfully takes components of his mind and evolve from that 3 equally complex characters??? Its simply fascinating! As you all may very well know, Hamlet is one of my all time favorite works. So naturally it's that in which I choose to focus on, while still somehow being able to work in the Brother K. Hope this goes well!!

Kenneth Branagh's "Hamlet"

For those of you who have yet to read and/or watch this film, PLEASE DO!!! I highly recommend it. It, in my opinion, is such a masterpiece, and so thoroughly done and well acted that. . . yes, it is one of my favorite films. It goes along side all my Peter Pan films such as Hook and Finding Neverland. But in all seriousness, if you are having a hard time reading the play or find you don't have the time...(Mr. Sexson might frown upon this), watch it instead. It's word for word, scene for scene, so your not missing much besides the experience of reading the play yourself and deciphering the text. This is a slight draw-back, but it is sufficient enough that I believe its not at all like reading Sparknotes or Cliffnotes. Just thought it might be a little helpful tidbit for those of you who, like me, cant always find time to sit down and read for multiple hours on end.

So for those of you who watch it, congragulations and your welcome. For those who don't, you are REALLY missing out.

Yet another BK post. . .

I want SO BAD to re-read Hamlet (I started reading it anyway. .) and to analyze it and Antigone more in depth. But, alas, one has to face the reality of time constraints. (sigh). I could go on and on for hours about them. For some reason, I connect to them more emotionally than I do the Brothers Karamozov. I find this odd, for BK is a very emotional book, and I understand all of it. But for some reason, I cant pinpoint one topic, one emotion, or one event that I can really grab a hold of and ramble about.

At this point, Im into Part 4, book something or another. I just finished up the part where Ilosha (?), the little boy, has been visited by Alyosha and Koyla (?), who pretended that Koyla's new dog was the one that Ilosha fed the needle and bread to, in order to make him suffer less w/ guilt. (I know I'm probably way more behind than most people, but I really dont want to rush the book and miss things, plus I do have other things to do. Anyway. . ). At this point in the book, i probably understood Mitya's and Greshenka(?)'s "falling in love" scene the most, though this is not surprising, since it is a love scene in a way. I found it odd how the Pole captain she was in love with, just left her. And does one honestly realize true love that fast? Well this may be, but I scratched my head and pondered a bit about this one. I felt this scene, though, really gave Dmitri more ground to stand on that he is crazy, but not insane. He knows what he wants, he just lies about it alot. So in this aspect, I agree w/ Ashley and other people in the class. I feel Dmitri is the true hero of the story. But, as it always is in literature, that is open to speculation and interpretation from other people, based on their experiences and views.

My own worst nightmare

I wasnt planning on writing a blog tonight. . i was just reading through them to get an idea. Of course, I read Ashley's blog about horses. I'm like Ashley, I competed and ended up riding other people's "problem children" when they didn't want to. I always got the "let Erin ride it. She's a gutsy and experienced rider. She'll deal with it." Whether its a mule, or a 18 hand monster of a warmblood, my sisters own "problem child", or the 20 yr old gelding who thinks he's 2. Yup, I've ridden them all. I did all this until i came to bozeman with no horse. Anyway. . . Her story brings back horrors and nightmares and memories of horses dying, getting injured, etc. Whenever she said "if you know horses" or something of that sort, I would relate.

I have a 16 hand grey Thoroughbred (TB) mare named Gracie. And though she is TB, she's built like a TANK. Big shoulder, short-ish neck for a TB, thickly muscled, and FAST. I always get asked if she's a Warmblood. I reply "No, she's not that dumb". (horsey joke for those of you who know warmbloods.) She is quite possibly the soul purpose of my life thus far. And though she is not my "problem" child as Ashley puts it, she is my "drama" queen. Snooty, bitchy, but perfectly adorable, and dumb as a door nail on a regular basis. That is. . . until you get her in the saddle. Or rather, since she hates flat work, until i get her in my jumping saddle and bridle. She is quite honestly the smartest, thinks-for-herself horse Ive met. If if screw up on a jump course, she can get out of the tightest or longest stride I have stupidly set her up for. And MANY times, my red or blue ribbon DEFINATELY was not my doing. But when we are working in sync, we can do anything. Jump the moon, jump the next 20 or 30 fences, whatever. We have become so close, that at shows, I always feed her grain by hand. 1) because she will spill it and get nothing of the vitamins i put in there, and 2) it helps me end my day, it relaxes me. As i feed her, I admire her. Her soft soft white and freckled coat, her two whirls on her forhead, her dark brown piercing eyes. I lean up agains the side of her temporary stall, and hold the bucket just rightly so, so that she can dive right in while I brace it against my hip and stomach. I listen to her chewing, which to me is repetative, and mind numbingly relaxing. I cant go to bed without hearing her pacing in her stall (which drives me nuts, but at least i dont have to clean up poop in the morning.) I love her. I would do anything to keep her with me.

As I was reading Ashley's blog, the end chilled me to the bone. I've seen those disasters happen, I know the utter despair and heart wrenching sadness of seeing a loved horse die in front of you. In the show ring, not 30 feet from me, I and about 1000 other people watched first hand, as a stupid rider got her horse, who should not have been showing at all due to a neck surgery, killed. He got his legs tangled in the jump poles between the standards, and didnt have the neck strenth to pull himself up. He landed on his neck, and snapped it, dying instantly and landing on the girl. His name was Romeo.

And yet, it wasn't the thought of seeing Romeo die, but it was looking at Grace standing right behind me, her head bowed and leaning against me in exhaustion from the last 3 days. We had just went and finished our first 3 day event ever together, and the only thougth that entered my mind was that that tragic event could of happened to us. And still could. I think of losing her, and then I jump to thoughts of it being MY FAULT. I balled. We all did. I couldn't bear to lose my companion. I love her as if she were my own. As if we were one. I have the deepest sympathy for Ashley, and I almost cried reading her blog. Not from memories, but by what could have been or could be.

And maybe there in lies the dark side of life. Not by what has been, but by looking back, and thinking of what could be.