Howling into the Void

I really hate talking about myself & how I feel.  I hate even more doing it in writing.  Sometime along after a few rose bellinis, I will tell you about my scar tissue surrounding putting matters of emotional import in writing.  It's dumb & juvenile scar tissue, but it is mine nonetheless, & the fact that it was juvenile didn't make it hurt any less.  Anyway, tonight, I'm just sort of buried in metaphysical bleakness, so I'm just going to primal scream it out into the morass of the interwebs.  I will leave it out there in case someone finds it & groks where I'm coming from, you're not alone.

For the past several days, I've been feeling increasingly bleak.  I don't know why. There's any number of possibilities given the state of the world & my own genetic tendencies to depression.  Whatever.  Tonight, I read a post from...someone that I value, even though they don't believe it, and it just triggered every bit of rage and hurt and frustration that I increasingly carry around with me.  After reading it, I just felt like there was just no point.  No point in trying to be kind or trying to walk a balanced path or trying to keep lines of communication open or...anything...because nothing that I do is going to be right.  Even though I tell myself that though they have the 100% right to feel as they do, that doesn't make them 100% right...it doesn't stop me from feeling hurt and alone. 

Hurt because I genuinely try to do the right thing and because I tried not to say hurtful things even if they were true.  Hurt because it doesn't seem to matter if I tried to do what was right.  The only thing that really matters is whether or not I went along with what the other person felt they needed. It seems like the only right thing to do as far as people are concerned is to agree with them, even if it means sacrificing my own judgment and beliefs and integrity. Because those don't really matter to others, they only matter to me.  Sometimes the message seems to be that if I truly value a friend, I can only tell them exactly what they want to hear and nothing else.  I can only be friends with who they approve.  If I choose my friends from any outside their magic circle, my reasons or beliefs have no relevance. Only their judgments do. I really hate being rendered invisible and meaningless that way.

Alone.  That's really the crux of it at the moment.  I really do try to listen to others and to be there for them when they need it, even if I guess I'm not very good at it. The thing is, deep down, I have this certainty that no matter how hard I try to listen, no-one is really willing to do the same in return.  It always becomes something about them & what they feel or what they are experiencing...and while I know that this is usually an attempt to connect and empathize, that doesn't stop it feeling like they just want to redirect to the more important topic...them.  Then the cynicism that seems to be an integral part of my personality kicks in & I think, "Well, that's just reality.  Most people just don't give much of a shit." I know that that's not really true, but sometimes it feels really exhausting to be the person that so many people turn to for their encouragement & inspiration & warm fuzzy moments & to genuinely feel like there is no-one that I can really turn to when I need to those things.

And then the inner voices that are really certain that I don't have anything all that serious to complain about and I should just suck it up & stop feeling sorry for myself chime in.  Those really suck.  I know that I'm pretty well off & that I occupy a position of privilege, that others suffer dramatically more under the hand of the current regime and on a daily basis.  I get that...but does that mean that I don't get to hurt at all?  I'm just going to sit here and feel sorry for myself for just a bit, ok?  I hate that I live an hour and a half from my sweetie and can't just turn to him when I'm sad.  I hate that I don't feel like I can tell him how I feel because either he will make it about him (with the best of intentions) or he will just feel sad and powerless himself   I hate that I can't just curl up and cry without finding a million and one reasons why I don't have any right to feel sad.

I have to be willing to tell myself that regardless of who I am, I have the same right to my own emotions that I am willing to give to others.  It's just hard. 

Vincent part eight

From a letter to Anthon van Rappard, 22 - 29 October 1883:
Well, today I went to visit the place where the dustmen dump the garbage, etc. Lord, how beautiful that is - for Buckmann, for instance. Tomorrow I shall get some interesting objects from this Refuse Dump - including some broken street lamps - rusted and twisted - on view - or to pose for me, if you like the expression better. The dustman will bring them around. That collection of discarded buckets, baskets, kettles, soldiers' mess kettles, oil cans, iron wire, street lamps, stovepipes was something out of a fairy tale by Andersen.

I like how he looks at things, sees beauty in things that are old and broken and rusted...I can see that in his art as well, the way he looks at the ordinary and finds the sublime.  I want to learn to see people that way, I think.

http://www.webexhibits.org/vangogh/letter/11/R28.htm

Vincent part seven

Being the latter part of 1883 - Vincent has left his woman, since she could not learn to be good. He is gone from the Hague and moving to Hoogeveen (Drenthe) to devote himself once more to painting. His melancholy is more pronounced. He grieves over leaving the woman and her children, but sees it as necessary.

Here, he gives voice to a familiar sentiment:

One might almost weep over what is now spoiled on every side; what our predecessors gave their honest labour to is now neglected and abandoned in a cowardly way. The time we live in is perhaps outwardly a little more respectable than the one that is past, but the nobleness is disappearing too fast, so that one no longer expects from the future the same great things which they did in the past. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, Drenthe, c. 22 September 1883

Ha! If he feels the loss of nobleness then, he would be appalled at some aspects of modern life...though I have to believe that nobleness exists, even if we no longer call it that...is greatness of spirit still possible in such a very small world?

In every life some rain must fall

And days be dark and dreary.

It is true and it cannot be otherwise, but the question is, isn't the number of dark and dreary days sometimes too great? - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, Drenthe, c. 26 September 1883

Ouch. Just ouch. I feel both of these

But a human being has his roots, transplanting him is a painful thing, though the soil may be better in the place where he is transplanted. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, Drenthe, 13 October 1883

http://www.webexhibits.org/vangogh/letter/13/335.htm









http://www.webexhibits.org/vangogh/letter/12/318.htm

Mentoring presentation thoughts

*notes from a professional development workshop in 2013*

1. What is my purpose as a teacher?
2. Who Do I mentor? What is my goal in mentoring them?

Terms to think about:
leadership education
Mentoring
Transformational teaching

19 apps: leadership education for college students, by oliver de mille

Informational teaching: by assignment, can be done by student on their own (card system?)

Transformational teaching: from child to adult...

Mentoring based on knowledge - not of materials, but of students (aspirations, goals, limitations, fears, etc)

Preparing class vs preparing mentor(most impt thing is teacher's vibrant inner life - know who you are & what you're about)

4 types of teaching:
1. Aristotle, 95% telling
2. Socrates, 95% asking
3. Plato, parables/examples
4. Prophetic, best mix of all for particular students (What does student x need?)

Teaching students to be good vs teaching students to be great - there is a need for BOTH - balance - based on individual student

Different students need a different mentoring style (goal)

Any subject can be mentored...

"Beginners Guide to Constructing The Universe", by Michael S Schneider

On Numbers, by Isaac Asimov Two kinds of ideas: seen (learned by experience) & unseen (learned by epiphany)

Mentors help students to seek epiphanies

There is no single path to epiphany. (Blah)

Take a risk. Take a stand. Be a warrior. Show students how.

What do I stand/fight for? Why do I learn?
Purpose drive passion; passion drives study habits.

Free society...

Dumb brains are dumb

I don't know what's wrong with me. I should be past this, but I can't get the brain hamsters off the wheel. They just keep running and the incessant squeak, squeaking of inescapable thought sits on my shoulders until I feel like I'm trying to hold up the world.

*edit - two years later*

The squeaking still happens & I still manage to function.  I'm just going to hit publish on this and move on with my life.  The goal is to learn to just write, whether it's any good or not, whether anyone else reads it or not.  I just need to get the thoughts out of my noggin & out into space to do as they will.

Here goes...

First time

Don't get excited. I'm talking about my first time filming. No, not that kind of filming either.

A friend of mine is making a short film as an audition piece for a program that he wants to get into. He asked me if I would be willing to take a role. Since I've never worked on film before, I jumped at the opportunity to get new experience.

It's a night shoot, so set up didn't start until 9 & filming didn't start until 10. Then we filmed the first scene from three different angles, including closeups. I loved the other actor in the scene. He gave all sorts of energy to bounce off of during the scene, and every time we did it, it felt a bit different.

Four hours and another scene later, I'm home. The second scene was much harder. The timing, the staging (around lights and boom mic and everything), everything was much more complex, and I felt much more awkward.

Things I've learned:
1. This is fun! I want to do it again.
2. This is hard! I need to learn more so I don't suck.
3. I didn't realize how much, as a stage performer, I depend on the rehearsal process to build character and behaviors. A film actor doesn't get that time and has to build a convincing performance out of moments.

Time to look for film acting classes in my location and price range.

Musings on freedom

Sigh.  Maybe I'm confused about what it means to be free.  In the wake of mass shootings and tragedies, I keep seeing posts about the dangers of gun free zones, and stern warnings about the sacred freedoms protected by the Second Amendment.  And I wonder what's wrong with me.  I understand the need to be free to protect myself without having to wait for someone else to do it.  I understand wanting to be free to protect my home and my loved ones from attack.  However, when I truly dig down to think about the freedom that I long for, that would be truly free, I don't find weapons in that picture.  When I think about freedom, I don't picture an armed camp.  When I think of freedom, I don't long for the freedom to walk into a bar or a church or a school with my handgun.  I long for the day when I can walk freely without fear, without the need to carry a weapon because I'm afraid of the people around me and what they might do.