Death by irony...

Ironically, I'm blogging to take a break from writing. The irony of writing such a long paper on intentionally short works of literature is killing me. ;)
I am tempted to leave this sentence in my paper, "Rather than utilizing unnecessary amounts of signifiers to beat a theme to death, a somewhat apt description of this essay, poets such as Pound carefully chose their words to have meaning". However, I have enough common sense left to know that would be an unwise move. Really, in the words of Bill Nye,“Humor is everywhere, in that there’s irony in about anything a human does". I wish other people realized that...I could speak my mind more often. I see humor everywhere all the time. It's not that I fail to see the seriousness of life, but so many times we make mountains out of molehills. In the grand scheme of things, this paper won't matter. It doesn't affect my eternal destiny. And I've been stressed out about it all semester, especially as the deadline inches ever closer. It's due tonight. It's not going to be done. But that's ok. I'll get docked some points, but turn in something that's actually complete. The dragon of stress cannot steal my joy. 

Writing about nothing

People ask me, "Kelsey, why don't I ever see you around?". . .Here's some of what I've been up to:

Using comedy, Shakespeare devotes this play [Much Ado About Nothing] to the exploration of this concept of “nothing”. While the word nothing would seem to imply the play is a trifling affair, this “nothing” actually shapes our lives, for they are, for the most part, filled with ordinary occurrences, or nothingness (Goddard, 271). . .Indeed, the whole of Much Ado is a masterful “escalati[on]of recriminations based on purely a chimerical assumption that must eventually be deflated” (Bevington, 221). Claudio and Hero’s naive love, the bickering Beatrice and Benedick, and the people that interfere with their respective stories intentionally employ these very lies, or nothingness created in the character’s minds, to further their own ends. . .This theme of nothingness resonates deep within the reader or observer of Much Ado. William Shakespeare adeptly utilizes what Carl Gustav Jung would later call a “Literary Archetype”, or our “innate, apriori impulses to organize images and ideas; tendencies to produce form, relatable to instincts and representing ‘the precipitate of the psychic functioning of the whole ancestral line, the accumulated experiences of organic life in general, a million times repeated, and condensed into types’ ”(Carl Gustav Jung). Deep within our very being, notions of what should be or patterns of what we deem familiar emerge, categorized by our minds, though often not realized to be existent. Writers create characters using these forms, causing them to be comparable to the archetypes in the reader’s mind. The more one has read, the more archetypes one may recognize and patterns one may observe. While archetypes certainly appear any work, they are perhaps most obvious within the genre of comedy. 

So I'm noticing that several of my recent posts have been on Tuesdays...keeping with this theme, here's a word from a neglectful blogger.
Currently, my life seems to be ruled by the o'er looming mountain of homework, all to be accomplished before April 9. Between now and then, I have to teach a class period on Orientalism, act out scenes from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, write between 26-32 pages (and research for it), study for and complete 4 finals, a choir concert, and pack up my life and move back to America. I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed. I can't help but return to Romans 8, "What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?. . .Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?. . .No, in all these things, we are more than conquerers through Him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord".

Much Talk of Nothing

Today, in one of my lit. classes, I read Earnest Hemmingway's "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place", "The Lamp at Noon" by Sinclair Ross and "Why I live at the P.O." by Eudora Welty. Only Hemmingway was required. It's always severely tempting to have a literature anthology full of classics at your fingertips and be expected to pay attention to the lectures. At this point in the semester, much of the material from one class seems to bleed over to another and focusing is becoming much more complicated. Prime example: I'm writing a paper which will hopefully explore both the concepts and meanings of "nothingness" in Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, and how comedy is a fitting medium to discuss these deeper themes by introducing literary critics from my theory course ; We spent this morning's representative literary works class discussing "nothingness" in Hemmingway's work (nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada). Si, "otro loco mas".

Currently posted on my desk is this list: 

1. Grades are an illusion.

2. Your passion and insight are reality.

3.Your work is worth more than mere congruence to an answer key.

4.Persistence in the face of a skeptical authority figure is a powerful ability.

5.Fitting in is a short-term strategy, standing out pays off in the long run.

6.If you care enough about the work to be criticized, you've learned enough for today.

It's been rather helpful whenever I start freaking out about the looming mountain of coursework to complete ere the semester ends. Not to mention the old Richard Bach quote that's been on my desk for years now, "Here is your test to find whether your mission on earth is finished: if you're alive, it isn't". It seems there are yet things to accomplish. Now, to get back to writing for school rather than leisure...

The thought process behind writing fascinates me. Any writing I would consider my best has come about seemingly on the spur of the moment or under great pressure ( as in, " Gee, I've got a paper due tomorrow morning, don't I?"). It's well-nigh impossible to replicate these circumstances, and unfortunately, I can't seem to pick which piece of work ends up being of above-average quality. Why is it that sometimes my thoughts seem to flow out in a concise and elegant manner, when at other times I can scarcely construct a sentence? Am I not still myself? Does my mind alter so much? Really, I ought to figure this out before I write the 4 papers I have yet due before the end of the semester. 

Musings on a Winter's Day...

"Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit,serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope,be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.' To the contrary, 'if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.' Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good." -Romans 12:9-21

This passage is one of my all time favorites (really, all of Romans is...); it's posted on my wall. The title of the section, "Marks of the True Christian", really challenges and encourages me. When I'm wracked with doubt, it's a reminder that these things are outward evidences of the redeeming work of Christ in my life. When I'm overconfident, it reminds me how short I fall of the glory of God and how much I'm in need of grace and growth. I will never fully succeed in accomplishing this list until I reach heaven, but the Spirit has promised to intercede for me with groanings too deep for words, and the Son's blood has satisfied the Father's wrath. May I never outgrow the wonderful conviction that this passage brings my soul! 

On a lighter note, I'm sad to see the end of this Chinook. It was quite the blessing, making my return to Canada after break much easier. But now, the sunshine and warmth are gone and the flakes are starting to fall. A cold wind is blowing, the sky is grey, my window is closed and the space heater cranked to protect my poor little plants. I sit quietly indoors with my tea, happy that I'm not working gloveless at the construction site next door like so many of those poor men. As I was watching out my window, I noticed a small insect, probably one of the first of the year, trapped between my screen and the closed window, trying vainly to escape to the outdoors. How often am I like that little insect, chasing after what I desire or what I think I need rather than laying those things at the foot of the cross and trusting that my sovereign God knows best? (ok, perhaps this isn't a lighter note after all)

Truly on a lighter note, I miss swing dancing. I haven't gone for months now, and my feet start twitching whenever I hear anything with that beat. We'll have to deal with this or I might just spontaneously burst into dance in class sometime. 

Hiding in my book...

Recently, in one of my Lit. classes, my prof. decided to "pick on Kelsey" (she regularly does this with her 300-400 level English students). She then mentioned how I had done a phenomenal job of improving as a writer in the last few months, giving details of my grades from last semester compared to now. Needless to say, while happy that an essay I literally wrote the night before and thought was poorly-done turned out getting an almost perfect mark, I regretted my decision to sit near the front of the class. She continued to lecture the class on how if you pay attention to what your prof. scrawls in the margins, "like Kelsey" (gestures), you too can improve. Ironically, I made the same mistake in the essay I got back today as I did in a previous one I turned in to this same professor...In all honesty, a lot of it has to do with the fact that I put minimal effort into my Literature class last semester because I needed to focus my attention to Biology and Philosophy. Without trying, I still got a B+ in the class, and managed with effort to pass both my hard classes with a decent grade. Granted, I'm working to improve my GPA this semester, and it seems to be paying off...we'll see when I get my midterms back. There are certainly worse things to get singled out in class for.


On a different note, reading in Isaiah this morning, I was particularly touched by a certain line in chapter 16. Not because it convicted me of sin, but because the beauty of the poetic metaphor used does a wonderful job of describing how my feelings work. Isaiah has spent 10 verses describing the fall of Moab and lamenting for the destruction there. In verse 11, he introduces his simile: "Therefore my inner parts moan like a lyre for Moab, and my inmost self for Kir-hareseth". As I read, it struck me; in my rare sorrow, my depths of emotion, my heart also moans (though I would tend to compare it more to a cello or violin). That's one of the reasons I love stringed instruments so much; I do actually feel the sounds in my heart. It's hard to describe, but I think Isaiah captured it well.

Well, that's a new one...

Because I'm still new in Seattle, I'm often meeting new people. Today, I was talking to an older man who had sat in front of me at church. After a long and somewhat awkward conversation, his wife joined him. "You're one of the university kids?" I replied in the affirmative. "Where at, and what are you studying?" As I usually do with Americans, I explained that I went to Ambrose University College in Calgary, Alberta and was studying English Literature. With a disgusted look, the woman said "that's boring" and turned her back to me, effectively ending the conversation. I ended up talking to her husband for a bit longer, and then thankfully, the service started. 

Now I've gotten a wide range of responses to my comment "I'm studying English", but never one quite like this. Typically when people totally disapprove of my major, they sit and lecture me about it. How I'll never get a job that pays anything, how it's a complete waste of my time, how I'm just a nerd, how boys don't like girls that think, etc. At the very least, this woman was brief. Her summary of "your major is boring, therefore, you are as well" is actually mildly amusing. It'll be nice to get back to school to be around people who love English again. 

Proof that I was at least once sitting by my textbook on this trip. I have actually accomplished quite a bit of research. Ironically, after reading Freud's "Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis" (having to do with the premises and techniques involved in the interpretation of dreams) I had a rather odd dream. Clearly I'm thinking enough about homework for it to haunt my dreams as well as my waking hours.

From Sunny Seattle...

After an 18 hour flight delay, I'm back in Seattle for reading week! I've heard it said that reading week was implemented because the suicide rates among college students were particularly alarming during the month of February (theoretically due to a lethal combination of seasonal depression and homework). Thankfully, it's not at all that bad at Ambrose (probably due to the Chinooks), but I'm enjoying the break.The week away is a wonderful opportunity to spend some time with my parents and 3 younger brothers. It's also great chance to study for midterms, get ahead in my reading for literature classes, and do some research for a presentation coming up in March.

In the last 24 hours, I have written 12 pages of text for the same prof. (in three different classes: 2 essays and a midterm). Typically, I have problems filling pages, but God has been good and taken my gift of brevity for the time being. Now all I have to do is make it through the week: then there will be sunshine and flowers and family and good food....(contented sigh).For now, I'll sit with my steaming mug of cider waiting with bated breath for my paper to be reviewed so I can get to bed. 

Testing...

The anticipation for the upcoming open house is building around campus. We're thrilled at the chance to have so many students around on a day when we actually have classes/chapel, so they can get a more accurate picture of what a day in the life of an Ambrose student looks like. There's also a lot of tension because it's that time of the year again: midterms and papers are once again looming their monstrous heads over the students. It hardly requires keen skills of observation to see that everyone is a bit flustered right now. Many of us wonder why we feel so stressed so early in the year. Shouldn't we wait until finals week at least? But as a good friend of mine observed yesterday, it's precisely because we have an upcoming break that we're all putting such high pressure on ourselves. If we can just make it through to Saturday, then we've got time to relax and catch up on down time over reading week (or, to research our upcoming projects and do all the rest of the semester's readings). Having enthusiastic, young students around will help remind us of what we came to Ambrose for, and hopefully inspire us as we trudge on through the week.

Dishing it Out, Graciously.

One of my literature classes was rather fascinating (and not only because we watched part of a rather graphic version of "Frankenstein"); My typically quiet, reserved professor gave some obnoxious students exactly what they deserved. You see, in these classes, there are typically no notes except what you write. The point is to read the material, and then come to class prepared to discuss it. Needless to say, if you miss the lecture, you really miss out on the class, and considering that we're paying to be here, it does seem a waste...but back to the story. There was a group of guys who had been particularly obnoxious, talking loud enough in the back of the classroom that if you weren't lucky enough to get a seat in the front three rows of the class, you couldn't hear the lecture. So after calling role, the prof. calmly reread a couple names. "Now that I know your names, get up and go to the dean's office. You've been disrupting the class long enough." and went back to lecturing like nothing had happened. We were all rather shocked. It was exactly what needed to happen, and what we had been wanting, but none of us had expected it (Admittedly, I whistled in class). We're all very proud of our Professors and their ability to speak the truth in love. It was a prime example of how to be gracious while appropriately dealing with conflict, and hopefully we take that from the lecture as well as what was literally being taught.

What a Morning at Waves!

In support of our new cafe's "grand opening" (I only mock it because this is the second grand opening), some of our musicians from the school are playing, so we decided to brave the thickly falling snow to come early to stake out some good chairs. Because we were too early for the free drinks (not to mention taking up prime space with our laptops) we decided to at least buy drinks. As I paid for mine, the cashier handed me a voucher, "free rose at the Springborough florist". So, I paid $5 for a drink, some wonderful fresh biscotti, and a fresh red rose. It's amazing how a blooming flower in the midst of a winter storm is so beautiful, so hopeful. And the live music is lovely. A wonderful place to catch up on some reading for class...

On the meanings of words...

Today as I was clearing my table in the cafeteria, I got to overhear a rather interesting conversation. It went something like this:
Guy 1: "I'd love to have a nightgown."
(snickers erupt from the table of guys he's sitting with)
Guy 1: "What?! They're classy! "
After several minutes of trying to defend his seemingly effeminate choice of pajamas, the other guys realized that when Guy 1 said "nightgown" what he meant was "bathrobe" (or dressing gown, or house coat, or whatever they say where you're from). Silly as it may seem, this got me thinking about the meaning of words, the significance a certain utterance carries and the power it has to create specific images and impressions in our minds. While to most of us, the word "nightgown" produces the image of a frilly, victorian sleeping frock, clearly this fellow saw rather different picture. The words we choose to use are perhaps more important than we may think them to be.

Looking forward to LYC!

As we're preparing and counting down the days, the students, faculty and staff are joining together to fast and pray for Legacy Youth Conference 2010. Personally, I'm involved with a great subteam responsible for contacting youth pastors and churches across the country and promoting the conference in general. We've still got a couple more mailings, but our job is almost finished, and we're excited to see how the Lord will work through our efforts!  Next Monday, January 11th we will have our first day of fasting. Please pray with us:

•God would speak to delegates, leaders and students calling them to repentance and surrender.
•Those planning the conference would be full of the Holy Spirit and sensitive to His guidance as they plan and prepare for LYC.
•God would be working in the lives and hearts of delegates to prepare them for what He has to say to them and that he would make a way for them to attend.
•The speaker Ryan Graham would be protected and directed as he prepares to deliver the Word
•During the LYC weekend there will be wonderful weather and spectacular, yet safe activities.

"Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. "- Ephesians 3:20-21

Home, sweet, Res.

The main vibe I've heard most from people returning to residence is, "Man, it's good to be back". Granted, there are some who would have liked a longer break, or who are very sad to leave their families. But most of us were itching to get back to school. Everyone knows the old adage, "home is where the heart is"; when you leave part of your heart with your family and part of it at school, it's just as refreshing to get back to school as it is to be "home". Being in residence without everyone being back just feels lonely, and each time someone else arrives, it's like Christmas morning all over again. I can't wait until everyone comes back! Admittedly, I was excited to hear that classes began on Tuesday rather than on Wednesday...sitting around isn't what I came here to do. And now that I've unpacked and gotten all settled, I'm excited to get back into the full swing of things.
All these musings to say, it's good to be back (and would be even more excited were it as green and warm as it was when this picture was taken).