the recollective

theme # 4: humor

mongoosejoe — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 20:26:04 +0000

it is the beginning of a new year, and we’re facing many social and global calamities: two wars with no end in sight, double-digit unemployment throughout the nation, and the recent haiti earthquake disaster that gripped the entire world. with all of these harsh circumstances surrounding us, it tends to be tough to look at the positive side of life – which is where this month’s theme comes into play.

every single individual has a different approach to what provokes humor to them. whereas some are interested in darker and more morbid material, others’ tastes are more sophisticated – and then there are those that have no sense of humor at all. regardless, humor is what keeps us progressing forward to discover individuals in new ways – an ‘inner zest’ of sorts that brings people together despite differences in race, class, culture and religious or political affiliations.

for february, we’ll reflect on how we view humor in our lives (and if/how we use it to interact with others). have fun, guys and gals!

-jose f. rodriguez -

flushing lights : jose f. rodriguez

mongoosejoe — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 19:35:46 +0000

on the northern part of new york city’s queens, one can find the neighborhood of flushing, which is known for its sizable asian population. what strikes me as very interesting in this neighborhood is the palpable and prevalent manner in which their lifestyle is asserted throughout the streets. if you go to brighton beach – an area in brooklyn inhabited mostly by people of russian descent – the neighborhood still retains an urban feel to it, yet they do very much create their own lives around that specific setting. with flushing, its residents bring together all of the elements of what constitutes “home” for them and fashion out their own socio-cultural environment replete with their respective businesses and ventures. as soon as you step outside of the subway station, you can feel a unique and palpable culture surrounding you. they don’t necessarily need to travel far in order to feel at home, as their assertiveness to uphold their ideals and lifestyle in another environment inevitably speaks volumes of our interconnected nature in modern society. we are indeed living in a world that’s contracting and becoming more permeable, but with that, it also brings with it access to rich traditions and customs and the ability to step into a whole new world without the constraints of long-distance travel.

- jose f. rodriguez -

loneliness even with faces: amy e. butcher

amyebutcher — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 01:47:26 +0000

i live in iowa and my boyfriend lives in boston. once every four weeks, one of us flies to the other and we spend two and a half days playing catch-up, talking, walking–always along the river, be it the charles or iowa–and eating fancy cheeses from the local co-op. one time he came and helped me pick out a wok. another time, we split a bottle of wine and played backgammon until 2. when he’s gone and i’m home, i spend my days and nights doing other things. i study, i write, i teach my students that non-fiction doesn’t just mean “not fiction.” i manage to get on, in other words. some nights, after my classes and his work day, we video-chat. i’m told the technology makes things easier, but it doesn’t. i see his face and i see his room. i see his face and hear his laugh. i remember that smile, remember that warmth. it’s lonely; it doesn’t feel like improvement at all.

theme #3: the world contracting / spaces getting smaller

caitlindewey — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 19:30:54 +0000

as the new year starts,
many of us are looking back on the past ten years
and trying to figure out what they meant.
some people are calling the ’00s “the digital decade.”
it was without a doubt a time when technology changed our lives forever.

as a result of digital technologies,
distance no longer signifies the barrier that it once did.
and differences between people,
whether in terms of location, culture, age or background,
are gradually fading away.

we’re living in a world that’s contracting — it’s getting smaller.

so for the month of january,
we’re going to create work that reflects that theme.

good luck!

- caitlin dewey -

alone: christopher woodside

Christopher Woodside — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 19:23:11 +0000

. . . isn’t it blissful:

with my posting i wanted to convey the romance many people associate with being alone and the sense of alienation and self destruction that comes with it.

- christopher woodside -

loneliness : dan grgas

Dan Grgas — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 09:09:33 +0000

just thought i’d say that there’s never too much you can say about loneliness. how many people can say that they’ve never experienced it? only the truly lucky.

but then again, are these people truly lucky? in many ways – the most important ways – they are. they never want and they never are without. i imagine these people loving. loving family, friends, and lovers completely, and these people loving them back.

i hope – and immediately i don’t hope – that those contributing here are lonely. i laugh, because i guess it’s not really possible to never be lonely. but i’m not talking about occasional melancholy. i’m talking about a deep down incurable loneliness.

i do what i do to try and move around this feeling. i will probably love and have a family and be extremely happy. that’s what i want and there’s really no doubt that i will have it, in some form. even so, i’ll always be lonely. because it is in the moments of my loneliness i find that i am truly happy. in these moments i can revel in who i am and it is in these moments when i find i am willing to give more to others than i am to myself.

there are many things that make an artist. for me, loneliness is one of them. i couldn’t create without it.

then again, all i want is some one to scratch my back and look after me.

Woe is me.

and there you have it.

NOTE: LISTENED TO THESE SONGS WHILE WRITING THIS:

“People Ain’t No Good” – Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. It’s loneliness.

“Prelude To 110 or 120 – Women” – Jim O’Rourke [Ha! Side note that this is the best response to a Dylan song that I have ever heard - and it only takes Jim one line and a riff. Jim O'Rourke: UNDERRATED. By far, one of our best.Eureka andInsignificance take pop and INDIE MUSIC to a place most people don't realize it can go.]

“Accidentally Like A Martyr” – Warren Zevon [didn't really listen to this song while writing this, thought I'd just make this post longer - hahaha, oh man, no, seriously, no, if you haven't explored Warren Zevon (Tuan, I'm looking at you, kid. This is the guy that everyone should know and love. No one wrote a song like he did. No one. His songs are perfect. They are the kind of songs I'd kill to write. That may not necessarily mean much, but I'd kill to hear them. And that means a lot.) then you seriously should. Especially if you like to drink and love. Drinking While Loving, Loving While Drinking. DWL, LWD.]

- dan grgas -

lonely without being alone: tuan quoc le

Tuan Le — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 22:47:29 +0000

you can be lonely without being alone.

- tuan quoc le -

lonely boys club: jose f. rodriguez

mongoosejoe — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 08:24:08 +0000

i spent my christmas break back home in puerto rico, and on the 24th i went to my aunt’s house for a family dinner. no one was really taking any pictures, but at one point, my cousins’ children started posing for a flashing camera as a mother yelled at them to smile and behave like proper young boys. as this was taken, i saw that the girl (nicole) kept to herself, as if she had not been invited to join the boys in the photograph. i think their wide, silly grins and jovial demeanor is funny – they all know by know what to do when “mom” asks them to play nice and pose for a photo. nicole, on the other hand, was standing apart from them because she was busy throwing firecrackers around the patio!

- jose f. rodriguez -

lonely(ish): jes zurell

Lady Outlaw — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 21:35:48 +0000

i have come to accept that the only time i can paint without losing focus is around four or five in the morning, when i can’t sleep. morning is my time alone, my time of communion with the sun and the creaks of this old house, feeling the wind sway around the weathered wooden clapboards. for the moment, there are sleigh bells hung on the front door and the wind carries them most audibly before anyone else in the house is awake. it’s a bittersweet feeling, to know the beauty of the morning… most of the time i cannot determine whether or not i’d want to share it.

most of the time, that’s a lie.

- jes zurell -

artist profile: amy e. butcher

amyebutcher — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 00:14:12 +0000

i’ve learned that when defining who i am, it’s best to start with who i am not. because i am not a lot of things. like, for example: i am not tall. i am not anything but white, not anything but girl. i am not a famous writer but am trying to be. i don’t mean dan brown or stephenie meyer. i mean david sedaris, cormac mccarthy; i mean real, good, writers. i’m not published, not really, but my essays and poems have appeared in some places you probably haven’t heard of, like the claremont review and positive teen. hopefully they will be in places you have heard of soon. i am a graduate student in the university of iowa’s nonfiction writing program, and i teach an undergraduate non-fiction course where i try and teach my students what it is to be a nonfiction writer. i think i’m getting through to them. it’s not all journalism and facts. it’s life. i tell them to write about the world around them, because that’s what i do. and although i thought i would not like it in iowa city, not like the world around me there, i love it.

speaking of what i am not: what i do not like. i do not like spiders, math, winter, or itchy sweaters. i do not like headaches or when you wake up too early after drinking and your head is seized with pain. i do not like hospitals, doctor’s offices, germs. i do not like hardwood floors. i do not like beef and i do not like swiss cheese and i do not like airplanes.

what am i, then, if there are so many things that i am not? a girl. i am a girl growing up discovering what it means to be not, what it means to be undefined. six months ago today there are a lot of things i would have thought i was, but being replanted made me change my mind. now all i know? i am a person in this world, a person displaced from philadelphia, a person relocated to the midwest. i am something new: someone who knows tornado warnings, knows endless prairie, knows life without mountains. knows life without oceans.

i am, most importantly, learning to be something.

- amy e. butcher -