Ms.+Ryce's+Blog

__﻿ __ January 3, 2011

This is my very first blog, so much of this I will be learning with you. I know there are sites out there that allow for more formal blogging, but I think this would be the best site because we will be able to post comments to each others' blogs easily.

I am looking forward to reading //1984// and seeing how everyone interprets the novel. It is the novel about which I wrote my senior research paper in high school, and I have re-read it every year I have taught it for the past 10 years. Orwell was incredibly prescient, and it never ceases to amaze me how relevant and frighteningly accurate he was in his writing.



January 12, 2011

Element Analysis: The paradox of doublethink

Every time I read this passage, I think about the novel //Lightning// by Dean Koontz, one of my all time favorite authors. He premises the novel on a soldier from Nazi Germany, where time travel into the future has been discovered, who becomes a guardian angel of sorts for a woman in the future. At the point in the novel when she discovers who he is and where he is from, she is having a conversation with her son about it, who tries to explain it to her through examples from sci-fi shows. When he explains the implausibility of time travel into the past, he keeps yelling the word "paradox!" to get her to understand.

The epitome of paradox, doublethink conveys both the seemingly impossibility and possibility of the human mind. To know the truth but deny it to the self because it is too uncomfortable or painful: I believe people do this all the time.

January 13, 2011

Important Quote "It's a beautiful thing, the destruction of words."

 Language: a road map of human connectivity. The way we use it can be repetitious and overlap, cause a meeting of the minds through the intersections, inspire people by leading them to an idea, or put them off by setting up roadblocks. Whether they are read, written, spoken, or heard, the words we use, each its own brick in the road, determine the path we take. And sometimes, when a bridge is out or bricks loosen, we get detoured or forced to another route, a direction we might never have chosen for ourselves.  I was just thinking about this this morning, coincidentally. In the ever-evolving world of technology, we are often communicating with people without even knowing it, and if we are not careful in our diction and syntax, we will misrepresent ourselves as well as be unable to understand others. I believe that like bricks and roads, language very much determines where we can go in life. The more control I have, the wider vocabulary I have to speak as well as understand, the broader my world becomes and the less obstructed the path in traveling it.

January 18, 2011

Element Analysis <span style="background-color: #ffff00; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">Symbol: Paperweight

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<span style="display: block; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%; text-align: left;">In the film, __Children of Men__, the world has come to a rather ugly place, due mostly to the sudden inability for women to carry children to term. Without the laughter of children, the world has become abysmal and dark. The protagonist, who has become rather blase when once an activist, gets involved in transporting the first pregnant woman in eighteen years to a ship so she can deliver her child somewhere where the government will not take it. The majority of the movie is based on his efforts to get her there safely. The name of the ship is Tomorrow. It represents safety from an oppressive government and hope for a different future, much like the paperweight in Orwell's predicted future. The paperweight, while a relic from the past, represents safety from the Party and hope that one day, the future will be different from the present.



<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">Similarly, in the film //Pan's Labyrinth//, a young girls seeks to escape from her oppressive step-father by journeying into a fairy-tale world. At the heart of the labyrinth is the tree that allows entrance into a different and safer world. Much like the coral at the heart of the paperweight, it is an object of nature, unable to be tainted or changed in it's innate nature by mankind.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">January 20, 2011

<span style="background-color: #008000; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">Important Quote: <span style="background-color: #008000; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">"If you loved someone, you loved him, and when you had nothing else to give, you still give him love."

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">She sat on the train, gazing at the rolling green of the meadows through the window. The harshness of winter had passed, but the chill of it lingered as if still hungry for affection. The sound of the shovel hitting the barren earth haunted her memory, a cacophony of thuds, tears, and heartache.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> The rocking of the train lulled her graciously to sleep, and as soon as her eyes closed, he stole into her dream.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> It was the type of dream where the clarity of the picture plays with the consciousness of the mind. Trees smoldering with fall foliage, the scent of pumpkin dancing on a wind whose caress tickled the cheek and tousled hair. They walked, hand-in-hand, through the park mostly in the comfortable silence of those who know each other well. Every so often, he leaned over to whisper, to which she would breathe a great sigh of contentment. She was dressed in her wedding gown, a filmy dress of creamy linen finely sewn with minute pearls and the sheerest of tulle overlay. Adorned and stunning in his tuxedo, they made a striking couple.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> When she woke, a single tear pooled in the corner of her eye for it was not autumn when they wed; it was summer. They had never strolled through the glory of the changing leaves; she had pushed him in his chair. And they would never share a whisper again, for the cold of January had taken him. The only embrace he would know was that of the earth, still and silent.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> She traveled to a place that promised a new start, free from the memories of his passing, her heart burdened with grief and her savings depleted from sickness. As her gaze once again settled on the rich green of the meadows, her hands settled on her swollen belly. She did not know how she would provide for her child, but she could give the love he had given her.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">January 27, 2011

<span style="background-color: #7478a9; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">IQ: <span style="background-color: #7478a9; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">“reality is not external. Reality exists in the human mind, and nowhere else.”

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> Herstory: Inscape

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> It was a journey 36 years in the making, filled with a geography unexplored by anyone before her. It began in soft edges and warm temperatures. She spent many years there, comfortable and safe. There were a few storms, one lightning strike, but there were mostly blue skies. Soon, though, the safety began to stifle, so she took the first of many steps.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> At first, the temperature didn’t change much, but the foliage did. The flowers were glorious in color, but some of the thorns pricked her legs as she walked by. The rocks on the path caused a twisted ankle here and there as they became smaller and smaller until they were sand. As she stood on the pier, excitement swirled beneath the surface of her skin, each heartbeat a reminder of the glory of being alive.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> The ship, well it was larger than life and the adventure of which she dreamed. Waters as smooth as glass stretched before her, the clouds puffy and rolling across a cerulean canopy. Eventually, they began to darkle, and a low rumbling sent the waves roiling. A series of tempests whipped her around, dizzying her in the ocean spray, tempered with an occasional calm.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> A new shore embraced her, lush with leaves of a green so deep she thought she could get lost in the color alone. The sand caressed her feet as she moved, polished by the rolling surf. Wind laced with the salt of the ocean swept over her, pushing at her back. As she moved inland, land rose, the grass growing sporadic, impenetrable rock underfoot. She scaled cliffs, a safety harness assuring her that her stumbles would be supported. Sometimes, the sun shone brightly, clearly lighting the way, warm on her face. Other times, rain fell, sheet-like, a curtain parted only by reaching arms. The higher she climbed, rain turned to sleet, and her teeth gnashed as the temperature fell.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> Snow drifted across the peaks of the mountains, but breath caught in her throat as she turned to see the vista. Corals of the reefs appeared, mirage-like, beneath the surface of clear waters; the tops of the trees swayed, perhaps in lullaby to the creatures residing therein. The air was clean in her lungs, particulates frozen out of it. Sighing, she turned to continue her journey.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> The terrain became trickier to navigate at this altitude. The snow, deep at times, caused her to stumble or slip. The lack of oxygen made her giddy and lose her sense of direction. The mountains split into crevasses deep, at times a dangerously inviting abyss. She came to a sheer drop, crags and niches decorating the face of the mountain; the world spun around her; lightning struck again, her feet fell out from beneath her, and she fell. She frantically reached for the branches jutting out here and there as the momentum brought the pit of her stomach to the back of her throat. Her heart fluttered, a trace of excitement humming beneath the adrenaline of fear coursing through her veins.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> She landed, bruised, scraped, broken, but alive. Short, gasping breaths, hungry for the oxygen that was now abundant, slowly became deeper as the tremors stopped. Meadows of green spanned to her left and right, and she half-crawled, half-dragged herself to rest beneath a great oak. It was here she waited for her strength to return as the warmth of the sun danced behind the leaves.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> The song drifted to her ears before she saw him. His song was part of the orchestra of the island, blended in perfect harmony. At first, he was camouflaged by the branches, the brown tuft of his wings barely discernible. There was something about the strength of the trunk and the settling rhythm of her heart that made her distinguish his music above the rest, and as his song grew louder, his presence became clearer and grander. As she listened, she healed and her strength returned. She emerged from the beneath the tree to the glory of the crystalline sky.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> She pushes through the grasses of the meadow, occasionally shivering with memory of the icy climbs from not so long ago. The winds are calm now, the weather temperate but his song fortifies her as she continues in her journey.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">~ I chose to tell the story of a woman's coming of age through the geography of her mind. The landscapes she faces are the landscapes of emotions and personality traits that develop because of the external experiences she endures. Our reality is created within the mind because it is through the filter of our lenses that we experience the world.

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">January 28, 2011

<span style="background-color: #00ffff; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">Important Quote <span style="background-color: #00ffff; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">"We create human nature"

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;"> The classroom is a microcosm of a greater society. It has its own government and citizenry. How that government is run directly impacts its citizens. As the governess, I choose the environment of my classroom. I can be miserable and testy. I can be encouraging and hopeful. I can be dismissive and unyielding. I can be enthusiastic and passionate. Whatever I choose, whether consciously or subconsciously, directly impacts the environment and the students therein. Like the sculptor’s hands move over the clay, so moves the energy I emit over my students’ minds. Subtle, nuanced, varying in pressure, it works in concert with the spinning of the wheel: the hormones of maturing teenagers, the conflicts of home life or personal life or both. Without the wheel, the pressure of the hands would only crush the clay, and without the hands, the wheel would only move it, giving it no direction whatsoever. It is because of the combination of the two we see the glorious display of all things combined.

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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">January 31, 2011

<span style="background-color: #c0a389; color: #000000; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">Element Analysis <span style="background-color: #c0a389; color: #000000; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">The motif of fear/symbol of Room 101

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">In an episode of the TV show Criminal Minds, there is a psychiatrist who kills patients by means of their biggest fears. The following link takes you to a great fan site that explains everything about the episode and includes the philosophical quote from the end of the show: "He who controls others may be powerful, but he who has mastered himself is mightier still."

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">Criminal Minds: Scared to Death

<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 120%;">This show parallels the disturbing goals of the Party and the means they use to achieve them: the horror of Room 101 and the ultimate psychological destruction of an individual's humanity.