Every single class at Ohio State is offered at 10:30 in the morning. All of them. Sure, most of them are offered at other times too, but if you're lazy or forgetful like me, what you'll notice is that ten thirty seems to be the last slot open for everything, which is especially odd, since it does seem as though that is the prime class-taking time. It frustrates me so that the ONE class that I have to take for my major this quarter is offered at, what a shock, ten thirty. Distressing.
On another note, I love the word distressing. Also, the word ridiculous. Those are two great words. I think I started using distressing to replace depressing, which is odd because they're not the same meaning.
In other news (which is different from "on another note" because news references television, while notes reference music), Christmas is coming, guys! Tomorrow is December. December may be my favorite month of the year, fo' realz. Anyone who hasn't already needs to go start streaming the Radio U Christmas Channel (radiou.com, you'll find it). It makes for such a cheery morning, being able to get up and turn it on on my brand new tiny laptop with amazing battery and just carry it around from room to room. I did all of my dishes this morning. Actually, let me tell you about these supposed dishes. See, I planned on getting to work at 10:15. So I was going to leave home at 9:30, because I always assume it takes me forty five minutes to get to work. I think this may, in fact, be a vicious, vicious lie. Why, you ask? It was 9:30 when I finally made it downstairs this morning. Then I decided that I needed to do all of my dishes from the last two or three days. It was only after that that I thought to make my (mom) coffee and cream cheese my cinnamon bread. Then I had to wait for my coffee to cool down. I feel sure that this must have taken about fifteen minutes at least. Then I still needed to drink my coffee. I did all this, stood for a while at the bus stop, and got to work. Know what time it was when I was entering the Library? 10:10. WHUT. This is crazies. Ridiculous. Distressing. How, I ask how, does this happen? Did I just add an extra hour between nine and ten this morning? I feel like a member of the new midnighters, but we'll have to name ourselves the nineoclockers. That doesn't sound as cool. It just doesn't.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Practice Practice Practice *Headdesk*
I like to consider myself a writer. I also like to consider myself an artist. I'm entirely amateur in both of these aspects, but I like to think that over time I'll be able to work myself up to a respectable level with both.
Whenever I see a great writer or artist asked for advice about how to improve, no matter what they respond with, it always ends or begins with "practice."
Practice is answer to the questions of "life, the universe, and everything." It's always what people need, whether they are willing to admit it or not. I've tried to avoid this thesis for many years of my life, but whether I like it or not, that's what the answer is.
I have never been able to look back on something I wrote and say "that was a good work." I love the concepts of what I write, but rarely can I reread what I wrote. It grates my ears; it's neither eloquent not graceful, and rarely do I feel as though I can portray the right emotion. When writing commentum (fiction), I used to put too much detail into describing my characters, and none of the surroundings. Now I put too much detail into my surroundings, and none into my characters. When I write dialogue, it gets choppy at best and my use of pronouns is never where it should be, as I just forget to use them altogether when I'm writing because it takes so long that I forget who is saying what, and have to write the name to remind myself. My chapters are only a page or two long, which I cannot explain except to say that my writing is so bare-bones that I leave 80% of the details that I should be putting in. To be succinct, I hate it. I'll write for the experience of writing, and because I feel as though I have all these ideas in my head that I don't want to forget, but I don't have the skill to really record them the way they should be recorded, and for that I feel slightly shameful.
It was for this very reason, that I can see every flaw in my writing, that for long stretches of time I don't write. I'll create a dialogue or narrative in my head of everything I can think of, because I so desperately want to consider myself a writer, but I don't have the guts to put anything down on paper (virtual or otherwise). Thus, improvement has not so much been an option. Lately, I've taken on a different stance. I know that for a long time yet I'll probably still hate my writing, but if I don't write, I will never surpass my current state and God knows that would be depressing. So I'm ignoring my writing and I'm just going to keep barreling through it whether I like it or not.
On the other hand, there's my drawings. As opposed to my writing, I've always been especially proud of my drawings and paintings when I think I've done a good one. When I finish something, I'm proud of it and I like to show it off. I know in the back of my mind that I need plenty of improvement on that front too, though, for two main reasons. One is, of course, that the artists that I follow on various sites have been better than me since I discovered them, and I have been able to watch their abilities grow and explode overtime, much more than mine have, leaving me farther behind. The other is that I keep record of my drawings, and when I look back at something that I previously considered my best and most inspiring piece of work, I can now point out so many flaws and problems and it looks unbalanced and askew and I'm sure that if I flipped the image it would look as sideways as if I had taken opposite corners and stretched it out, if you know what I'm saying. My main problem with improvement on my artwork is that I have found that I really have to work to find something to make into a full-scale drawing. I don't know for certain, but I feel as though if I were to just doodle whatever came to mind for hours, I would get the same basic headshot and positioning with a bajillion slightly different faces and hair styles. Whenever I draw, I feel as though I can come out with one very good drawing, and then everything else is bland and forgettable and not even worth coloring. It's depressing really, as I'm afraid that I'm losing my imagination, day by day.
Really though, deep down I'm pretty sure that's not true. I get the feeling that it's really that I simply cant draw as well as I would like to, I want to be able to draw so many dozens of different poses that I know right now I wouldn't be able to accomplish. I want to be able to lay out my drawings in such a way that there's not just one person standing in a normal face-forward arms-at-her-sides persons standing slightly left of center. I have been neglecting drawing anything for month, though, because I've feared that everything would come out the exact same way. Practice cant make that much of a difference when every picture is the exact same, right?
Well I've decided that I need to change that. It's harder than with writing because I want to make an instant digital archive (see: blog) of everything that I draw, so I need to actually hook up my scanner (no idea how that works) or use my tablet (which I only want to use with photoshop, which then limits me to a cold lonely study unless I want to drag my desktop down a flight of stairs). I'll get it working somehow. Maybe.
Whenever I see a great writer or artist asked for advice about how to improve, no matter what they respond with, it always ends or begins with "practice."
Practice is answer to the questions of "life, the universe, and everything." It's always what people need, whether they are willing to admit it or not. I've tried to avoid this thesis for many years of my life, but whether I like it or not, that's what the answer is.
I have never been able to look back on something I wrote and say "that was a good work." I love the concepts of what I write, but rarely can I reread what I wrote. It grates my ears; it's neither eloquent not graceful, and rarely do I feel as though I can portray the right emotion. When writing commentum (fiction), I used to put too much detail into describing my characters, and none of the surroundings. Now I put too much detail into my surroundings, and none into my characters. When I write dialogue, it gets choppy at best and my use of pronouns is never where it should be, as I just forget to use them altogether when I'm writing because it takes so long that I forget who is saying what, and have to write the name to remind myself. My chapters are only a page or two long, which I cannot explain except to say that my writing is so bare-bones that I leave 80% of the details that I should be putting in. To be succinct, I hate it. I'll write for the experience of writing, and because I feel as though I have all these ideas in my head that I don't want to forget, but I don't have the skill to really record them the way they should be recorded, and for that I feel slightly shameful.
It was for this very reason, that I can see every flaw in my writing, that for long stretches of time I don't write. I'll create a dialogue or narrative in my head of everything I can think of, because I so desperately want to consider myself a writer, but I don't have the guts to put anything down on paper (virtual or otherwise). Thus, improvement has not so much been an option. Lately, I've taken on a different stance. I know that for a long time yet I'll probably still hate my writing, but if I don't write, I will never surpass my current state and God knows that would be depressing. So I'm ignoring my writing and I'm just going to keep barreling through it whether I like it or not.
On the other hand, there's my drawings. As opposed to my writing, I've always been especially proud of my drawings and paintings when I think I've done a good one. When I finish something, I'm proud of it and I like to show it off. I know in the back of my mind that I need plenty of improvement on that front too, though, for two main reasons. One is, of course, that the artists that I follow on various sites have been better than me since I discovered them, and I have been able to watch their abilities grow and explode overtime, much more than mine have, leaving me farther behind. The other is that I keep record of my drawings, and when I look back at something that I previously considered my best and most inspiring piece of work, I can now point out so many flaws and problems and it looks unbalanced and askew and I'm sure that if I flipped the image it would look as sideways as if I had taken opposite corners and stretched it out, if you know what I'm saying. My main problem with improvement on my artwork is that I have found that I really have to work to find something to make into a full-scale drawing. I don't know for certain, but I feel as though if I were to just doodle whatever came to mind for hours, I would get the same basic headshot and positioning with a bajillion slightly different faces and hair styles. Whenever I draw, I feel as though I can come out with one very good drawing, and then everything else is bland and forgettable and not even worth coloring. It's depressing really, as I'm afraid that I'm losing my imagination, day by day.
Really though, deep down I'm pretty sure that's not true. I get the feeling that it's really that I simply cant draw as well as I would like to, I want to be able to draw so many dozens of different poses that I know right now I wouldn't be able to accomplish. I want to be able to lay out my drawings in such a way that there's not just one person standing in a normal face-forward arms-at-her-sides persons standing slightly left of center. I have been neglecting drawing anything for month, though, because I've feared that everything would come out the exact same way. Practice cant make that much of a difference when every picture is the exact same, right?
Well I've decided that I need to change that. It's harder than with writing because I want to make an instant digital archive (see: blog) of everything that I draw, so I need to actually hook up my scanner (no idea how that works) or use my tablet (which I only want to use with photoshop, which then limits me to a cold lonely study unless I want to drag my desktop down a flight of stairs). I'll get it working somehow. Maybe.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Liverpool!
Totally and extremely relevant to my last post, I just went to the most fantastic Linguistics seminar today. The speaker (oh my goodness she was from New Zealand) was giving a talk today titled Football vs. Football. To summarize, she and one of her friends went to Fados and saw that the soccer fans there, although American, would gain a British accent when cheering for their team. So the two of them conducted an experiment that was all about how when fans of a team take on a sort of identity from that team, they can affect a similar accent.
In other words, if I start watching British soccer, I'm going to adopt a British accent.
Yes.
Really, that's all I had to say on that topic. I just wanted to let you know my future plans to infiltrate the land of Great Britain with a soccer accent. Now I just need to find a team to cheer for.
In other words, if I start watching British soccer, I'm going to adopt a British accent.
Yes.
Really, that's all I had to say on that topic. I just wanted to let you know my future plans to infiltrate the land of Great Britain with a soccer accent. Now I just need to find a team to cheer for.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Sometimes
Sometimes I just need to write. Honestly, though, those are often the times that I can't think of a THING to write ABOUT. I think it's because normally when I want to write, it's because I'm just so darn excited about something that I want to share it with the world, you know? But the thing is, it's really probably not that interesting to OTHER people, when I really think about it. Like right now. Do you know what I'm excited about right now? British things. British things are really not that interesting on their own. It's like a sentence with a noun and no verb, there's really not much point to it. Like, hey guys, guess what? And you guys are all like, what? And I'm like, BRITAIN. Now, is that supposed to be interesting? Because clearly, it isn't. I need a plot for my post. I can't just be like, let me list everything I love about Britain because, well, I would start to consider myself incredibly shallow and then I would get depressed and wonder why I'm just sitting here switching between watching Merlin and Doctor Who (although this point is no longer valid now, because we are now watching Enchanted). Speaking of Merlin and Doctor Who, the main character of Merlin (you know, Merlin) was in an episode of Doctor Who! And I found this out because for a second it occurred to me that the guy who plays Arthur in Merlin might be the guy from the Narnia series, Peter (which I thought because I saw a commercial for Narnia on the Enchanted DVD). So I looked him up and he clearly wasn't but then I went back to see who the actor who plays Merlin had also played in and it said Doctor Who and I was like HEY, and then I realized that he in fact played a character that I had looked up a while ago because I thought he was the guy who played Edmund in Narnia. Long story short? I think that everyone in Britain was at one point a character in Narnia. Maybe I should be worried about this. Also, Narnia is in our refrigerator. I'm sure of it.
So anyway. I want to read some British books. Were the shoes books British? Are fairy tale books British? Oh good, my roommates just got home.
So anyway. I want to read some British books. Were the shoes books British? Are fairy tale books British? Oh good, my roommates just got home.
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