thoughts about process and product

I'm beginning to get really interested in the dichotomy of "process vs. product". In our post-modernity, it seems an increasingly-investigated paradigm. As a writing instructor, as a writer, I'm consistently weighing the importance of process against the eventual--the expected--product. What use is a sterling piece of writing to my students if they don't understand how it came to be, and thus, can't reproduce it? What use is a savvy, strategic writing process if it is not applied to create a sparkling, written product?

Gin Ferra asks herself this question in relation to her knitting. Is the set of orange loops a sweater in process, or just a bunch of tangled yarn? Is there functionality and beauty in the process, or are we just after the endgame, the product?

I think it is important to investigate these questions. Considering process in our lives, from writing to knitting to relationships, may prevent our society's ultimate spiral into utter-egocentrism, into perpetual consumerism. But, while I perhaps can't take on the culture of the entire western world, I can teach writing that privileges a sound awareness, and deft use of, process. Acknowledgment and application of strategic writing processes do produce good writing, I've seen it. I continue to see it in my classroom. What comes next, I think, is examining what I see and articulating it so that others can understand it, can see it, too.

the word articulate

I've been thinking a lot lately about the word articulate.

One of it's definitions is joint, as in the spine

or foot.

It made me think of dancing, and how some dancers articulate movement as they dance, that is, they move each bone independent of the others, thus lengthening and sustaining movement.

vanilla thursday

I am sipping the last of my vanilla bean latte and my petite vanilla scone is long gone. It's a vanilla thursday, and I'm feeling unfocused.

Thinking about ways to get involved...

The National Day of Writing is coming up in October. I'm thinking about ways to get my classes involved. Any suggestions?

curtain-obsessed

Whew. Now that my summer class is over, I have about a week and a half of "staycation" ahead of me. This is good, because I need to freakin' nest already!

I'm obsessed with curtains lately. I keep envisioning different styles and configurations for the windows of each room. Curtains are a big deal, I think, because they can really set the mood and of course, bring color and texture.

These curtains are fascinating. designed by Florian Krautli, they are full of tiny magnets...

...so you can form them any way you like! Sculptural curtains, indeed.

But my heart belongs to these:


What could be better?

rainy day

Ah, what could be better than sleeping in with the pattering of rain tapping away at the roof and windows? Well, I couldn't exactly sleep in today, but I can revel in the odd rainy day. It has been so sunny and warm and summery lately, that this cool gray rain is almost a relief! I am forced to stay inside and think.

Of all the Impressionists, I've always had a thing for Gustave Caillebotte. Of course, his "Rainy Day in Paris" is world-renown, as well as "The Floorscrapers" from 1876. But with rain-induced time on my hands, I decided to do some searching for my favorite Caillebotte.

Along the way, I found this other, lesser-known "Floorscrapers", actually painted a year after the one above. I love it when artists take on subject matter in different ways over long spans of time. It really shows off different perspectives, discoveries that the artists themselves make along the way.

But, this is my favorite: "Young Man at His Window", painted in 1875. I love that the room and the view remind me of the view from my room when I first visited Paris. I love the stony-cool colors and the dramatic figure in his black suit. It is full of mystery and longing. If you look closely, following the "gaze" of the young man, you can see a female figure standing on the street corner. This intimates a story without fully spelling it out for us, and raises more questions than it answers. I like that.

coffee enlightenment?

Sitting down to breakfast in a strange house. Well, nothing alarming...I am housesitting. I'm keeping company with two sweet, neurotic dogs and enjoying the exotic delights of cable television and granite countertops.

There is lots of great light in this house, which gets me thinking in several directions. Of course, I think about our new place and how to best harness the light from the east/west facing windows. Alas, no southern ones. This post from Apartment Therapy Europe gave some good pointers, though.

I also got to thinking about light, in terms of consciousness. As a thoroughly non-morning person, I often wake up feeling swallowed in a mental shadow. A large cup of coffee and an hour of slow awakening are my usual requirements for feeling sane and alert. What is it about light that is both comforting and harsh? Why do we use light-metaphors when referring to our mind, our awareness, our quality of engagement with the universe (she was enlightened)? I briefly thought about springing these questions on my students today...but it might be too deep. Or, it might not be.