In the beginning of this independent study when finding books to read to fulfill my research part of the contract, I found Writing Travel: The Poetics and Politics of the Modern Journey, edited by Zilcosky. This is a book of essays on the ideas of what writing travel is exactly, but I thought it might help me understand a way for me to write my own stuff. I have read different parts of the book but spent most of my time thinking about different segments and quotes from the very first chapter by John Zilcosky. He spends most of the time talking about the differences between what storytelling and story writing is and what travel writing is. He talks about the various essays in the book and about various big names in history and their ideas of what travel is. I just want to touch on certain parts that grab at me.
On page four, Zilcosky quotes Walter Benjamin on the idea that books and reading can appear as travel substitutes. "the book allowed one to journey while remaining solitary and static in the comfort of one's own home"(4) was a line that ignited a spark. Yes! That is why I read. I read to travel without going anywhere at all. Books are exciting. They allow you to escape when you have no where to go or can go. They provide a fulfillment of creativity in our ability to imagine what is written. They give us our hopes and dreams and ideas through the subject or characters described. Zilcosky even stated that the great Immanuel Kant found that one was "always already traveled" (5) through their own homes. Kant never even left Prussia, but he read several travel books, according to Zilcosky (5).
Zilcosky points out that during the 16th century writing became a more necessary part for foreign voyages (5). Rich sponsors of the ships sent out, to find new resources or areas for expansion, were increasingly demanding accounts of their wanderings and whereabouts (5). Those accounts would eventually bring in other investors and furthermore, settlers. When people began reading about foreign places, they would set out to visit or move there and in turn, would write their own accounts of their travels, "we inevitably experience foreign lands in terms of the books we read, and these lands eventually become the texts we write about" (6).
Zilcosky talked about how a traveler has to be in a still, isolated environment in order to write of his travels. To write while moving was near impossible in the past due to the limitations of ink and paper and even steady transportation. Who writes at the exact moment they are experiencing travel? You go to what you want to see, and then you write of it later, after you have seen it and have moved on. So when you read about a place, you are not really there in that moment of the memory, or even what you are reading is what actually took place, because the writer had to have already gone from the place in order to write of his travel. It was a moment in time that he is remembering, reflecting back on to capture through his writings. Maybe what I am wanting to do is translate that as well to a photograph. It is a moment captured in time that will never exist or happen again. Travel is "in motion, crossing frontiers, ultimately uncontainable" (10). Zilcosky states in this chapter that even when a traveler gets to where he wanted to go, he is still not really there. He writes of a traveled moment that never existed.
So do I think a photograph could have a truer capture of that traveled moment than writing? Perhaps, because I think it is the exact image of what I saw at the time I decided to shoot it. Does altering the brightness or shadows and colors in Photoshop give its moment a falsed telling? Maybe, because that was not really what was there. But a photograph can be argued to not really capture what is there in the first place. A camera records an image using light ( photography= painting with light) and mirrors and shutters; either film or encodings. It denotes a subject, such as a flower or person. It eludes to something, but it is never the actual object. In order for me to give you the actual object, I would have to physically hand you the actual object. But I am not majoring in philosophy or theory or ideas. I am just trying to tell my own story through going to other places. That itself is another subject Zilcosky touches on. The idea of finding yourself through going somewhere else. If you take yourself out of the equation of where you are and put yourself in another one elsewhere, you hope to find a different answer, something new ( I feel like I am almost quoting another saying but cannot find it in my notes, I will look into that). I do know that Zilcosky writes " the self becomes itself only in another place" (6) and "where the self attempts to find itself through displacement" (7). I feel that I am trying to find more about myself by escaping where I am to discover it. A new setting could bring forth something I am missing, or hiding, or have yet to become. I might be looking for something new for me, maybe even what I should be doing after I graduate, but all I know is that I love the idea of going elsewhere and seeing as much of the world, or at least the very country I reside on, as I can before I leave this place. I want to explore where I can go and what I can do there. Maybe I might as well explore here too.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Quote of the day
- Once in a while, it really hits people that they don't have to experience the world in the way they have been told to-
-Alan Kneightley
No clue who that is, but I got this from a book and blog site I read called The Art of Non-Conformity by Chris Guillebeau. He lives unconventionally and is trying to travel to every country in the world before his thirty-fifth birthday. He is self-employed and is teaching others about living differently than how you are told to growing up. I find his words and ideas very exciting. I think I am still in the "I want to, but..." stage of things, but I hope to grow out of it and start my own way. Or maybe I already am and just not realizing it yet. I graduate in May and I have absolutely no clue what I want to set my goals of reaching career-wise. I just want to go with wherever things can take me. I do know I want something exciting and I want to make enough money to pay for my necessities AND my dreams to accomplish ( creating crazy art that costs money, traveling to all the countries and places I want to, get a house, car, family, have loads of fun times throughout the year, etc.). I just haven't figured out how to get there quite yet.
I do know that Chris would probably love the idea of New College, it fits into his alternative ways of living and learning and seeing the world.
www.chrisguillebeau.com
-Alan Kneightley
No clue who that is, but I got this from a book and blog site I read called The Art of Non-Conformity by Chris Guillebeau. He lives unconventionally and is trying to travel to every country in the world before his thirty-fifth birthday. He is self-employed and is teaching others about living differently than how you are told to growing up. I find his words and ideas very exciting. I think I am still in the "I want to, but..." stage of things, but I hope to grow out of it and start my own way. Or maybe I already am and just not realizing it yet. I graduate in May and I have absolutely no clue what I want to set my goals of reaching career-wise. I just want to go with wherever things can take me. I do know I want something exciting and I want to make enough money to pay for my necessities AND my dreams to accomplish ( creating crazy art that costs money, traveling to all the countries and places I want to, get a house, car, family, have loads of fun times throughout the year, etc.). I just haven't figured out how to get there quite yet.
I do know that Chris would probably love the idea of New College, it fits into his alternative ways of living and learning and seeing the world.
www.chrisguillebeau.com
Max
My family decided to visit my grandfather one day out in Columbus, Georgia. The man in the photograph is not my grandfather, but my great uncle, Max. This was the first time I have ever met him or I think any of my grandfather's siblings. He has like six or eight (I forget, I researched my father's lineage and it seems that they all have a bunch of kids, sometimes married more than once, and they pass names down as well, it gets confusing after a while), and the only other one I can remember seeing was at a funeral, and it was his own (first time I ever saw a dead body, and he was smiling...? kinda nice). The other guy in the background is my own uncle who told me the story of how Max lost his arm. When he was four years old, he was playing alongside a railroad track near his home when a train came rumbling down the tracks. Max wanted to stop it before it got to him so he held up his hand, I guess thinking it would see him and stop. Obviously it didn't so my great uncle has gone practically his whole life without his arm. It made me think about how weird that would feel, probably because I have had my arm longer and would really like to keep it. When I tore my scapula muscle earlier this year, I was forced to not move my arm or shoulder much due to the stabbing, aching pain I would cause my body; but you can't seem to help feeling a pull when you go to grab something that involves using both hands or arms, regardless of impending pain or not. So does he still do that? Does his shoulder reach to chase a cat out of his garbage or to grab something that's almost out of his reach from above? I'm sure he's had to maneuver eating and drinking and opening doors and catching a ball quite differently than most.
In this photo, to me, he has this look that he is not quite sure what is happening to him anymore. He's old, my grandfather's old. Max moved in with my grandfather because he cannot take care of himself anymore. That's an even scarier thought to me than losing an arm. Losing your mind.
Crosscar
This was the first thing I shot on the way to the Helen Keller Festival in Tuscumbia, Alabama. I was riding up in my sister's car and I found this interesting that she had this hung on her rearview mirror. I have always had issues with faith and belief in a higher power. She says she believes in God. We were not raised in a family that went to church, but my mother believes in God and in the Bible. I feel that I believe there is something bigger than us out that, that is running things, but I am not sure it is what we think it is. I do not agree with all things that are interpreted in the Bible, I believe in trust and the moralities I have grown up knowing. I agree with a lot of things that have come from the Bible, such as the golden rule and be good to yourself and to others, etc. But I sometimes think that is part of the basis for humanity, not what something we worship to tell us. I even learned in history class as part of my liberal arts education, that Christianity came out of other religions, particularly Zorastrianism, so who are we to say what is right and true anymore? I go with my gut. I go with my dignity for humanity, my pride and faith in the good of others and myself. To value a cross that represents something so ugly and supposedly beautiful and soul-fulfilling is kind of weird to me. I have a few lying around that were given to me, but I feel kind of weird to have them when I do not fully understand what it means and that makes me feel a bit guilty for having them. I always think to myself that I will try to read the Bible and try to understand it. I will also look at other religions and valued texts, and try to understand it. I am one to always want to look at both sides of things. But when someone hurts another by using their sacred texts and their particular beliefs upset me. We as a human race seem to be alone in this massive galaxy or universe, and maybe this world is not big enough for us that we feel the need to fight each other for our beliefs to be the ruler, instead of a coexistent among humanity. We have rights be individuals, but we would need to come together, work together to keep those rights alive.
Destin Florida remembrance
You know, I never did come back and complete my Destin, Florida story. It's been so long, I hardly remember most of it, but here it goes.
Well driving was not what ended up causing my back to hurt so much, but it did make it a lot worse. The morning of driving to Destin from Tuscaloosa, I had played tennis in my beginning tennis class. I preceded to tear my scapula muscle, which is between your shoulder blade and spine, and not notice this until the next day after sleeping on a couch (my bedroom partner snores so loudly, I, who is hearing-impaired, could not get passed the sound to drift off) in a funky position. I continued to try to ignore the pain for the next few days because I had gotten it in my head that NOTHING will stop me from trying to relax and have a good time on a trip (except the pain wouldn't let me relax, but I did have a good time!).
My aunt is an amazing woman. She married my uncle a few years ago and has made all our lives more lit with laughter. She's a northerner and she is hilarious to the core. She loves her dogs like their literally her children (and her dogs literally act like little humans, one can even skateboard). She's had a hard road to travel before my family, but she brings a whole lot of love still to our family. I'm so glad she's in our lives.
So my aunt and I were scouring the local newsletters and papers for something to do until my family made it to town. We found out a Native American Festival was going on that day that was near a strip known for hosting art nights along a boardwalk. I like any excuse to shop for something unique and foreign, and for learning something new, so we headed off to the festival. It was just a little event, nothing too big, a couple of guys dressed in native gear dancing and singing and getting children involved with Native American signals and such. Most of the art tents were run by 'white' people who say they were representing a Native American artist. I'm not sure if all were true and not cons, but this one tent had some absolutely amazing clay artworks. They clay was multicolored and it swirled around within the shapes that the artist created. They were of course shapes 'native' to the idea of a Native American. Feathers, bears, headdresses, totem animals, etc. The other tents had your standard leather hide clothing or bags and belts, or arrows made from rocks. The festival was kind of cheesy in its efforts to memorialize Native American traditions, but it was still fun to see. I bought a five dollar necklace. It was a little leather pouch that held a worry rock, which is a rock (tumbled?) smooth with an indent for your finger to rub. It was meant to rub away your worries, your fears, your anxieties, which I have a lot of anxieties, so it was a cheap good investment. Plus, the rock was pretty.
For the life of me, I can't remember what we did next. That's what I get for putting things off. I know my family came down and we ate some good foods and went to the beach. I remember going to the seafood market to find some crab legs (we ended up going to walmart! of all places ON THE COAST, seafood markets were flat out of crab legs).
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I shot photos and played with the dogs and my nephew. I'm sure the girls went shopping and my uncle just worked or relaxed at home. My nephew loved the beach so much he didn't want to leave. I spent a few hours bound and determined to catch those tiny shells with some tiny living creatures in them that whenever the tide recedes, you see them all on top of the sand until they burrow their little homes down under. I collected broken sand dollars and screamed like an actual girl when a crab crawled over my foot, snapping its way back underground. We ate some more good foods, and I drove home.
Well driving was not what ended up causing my back to hurt so much, but it did make it a lot worse. The morning of driving to Destin from Tuscaloosa, I had played tennis in my beginning tennis class. I preceded to tear my scapula muscle, which is between your shoulder blade and spine, and not notice this until the next day after sleeping on a couch (my bedroom partner snores so loudly, I, who is hearing-impaired, could not get passed the sound to drift off) in a funky position. I continued to try to ignore the pain for the next few days because I had gotten it in my head that NOTHING will stop me from trying to relax and have a good time on a trip (except the pain wouldn't let me relax, but I did have a good time!).
My aunt is an amazing woman. She married my uncle a few years ago and has made all our lives more lit with laughter. She's a northerner and she is hilarious to the core. She loves her dogs like their literally her children (and her dogs literally act like little humans, one can even skateboard). She's had a hard road to travel before my family, but she brings a whole lot of love still to our family. I'm so glad she's in our lives.
So my aunt and I were scouring the local newsletters and papers for something to do until my family made it to town. We found out a Native American Festival was going on that day that was near a strip known for hosting art nights along a boardwalk. I like any excuse to shop for something unique and foreign, and for learning something new, so we headed off to the festival. It was just a little event, nothing too big, a couple of guys dressed in native gear dancing and singing and getting children involved with Native American signals and such. Most of the art tents were run by 'white' people who say they were representing a Native American artist. I'm not sure if all were true and not cons, but this one tent had some absolutely amazing clay artworks. They clay was multicolored and it swirled around within the shapes that the artist created. They were of course shapes 'native' to the idea of a Native American. Feathers, bears, headdresses, totem animals, etc. The other tents had your standard leather hide clothing or bags and belts, or arrows made from rocks. The festival was kind of cheesy in its efforts to memorialize Native American traditions, but it was still fun to see. I bought a five dollar necklace. It was a little leather pouch that held a worry rock, which is a rock (tumbled?) smooth with an indent for your finger to rub. It was meant to rub away your worries, your fears, your anxieties, which I have a lot of anxieties, so it was a cheap good investment. Plus, the rock was pretty.
For the life of me, I can't remember what we did next. That's what I get for putting things off. I know my family came down and we ate some good foods and went to the beach. I remember going to the seafood market to find some crab legs (we ended up going to walmart! of all places ON THE COAST, seafood markets were flat out of crab legs).
I shot photos and played with the dogs and my nephew. I'm sure the girls went shopping and my uncle just worked or relaxed at home. My nephew loved the beach so much he didn't want to leave. I spent a few hours bound and determined to catch those tiny shells with some tiny living creatures in them that whenever the tide recedes, you see them all on top of the sand until they burrow their little homes down under. I collected broken sand dollars and screamed like an actual girl when a crab crawled over my foot, snapping its way back underground. We ate some more good foods, and I drove home.
Jellywater
Jellyfish on the Destin, Florida shore.
No mater where you went along the shoreline, you were bound to come upon a jellyfish on land, most dead, but one or two would still be alive, so we had to watch out for this. Something so pretty and almost ethereal that can also be deadly, what a conundrum.
Flamingostretch
Flamingo at the Birmingham Zoo.
You know how they stand on one leg? My grandmother on my mom's side used to do that as well, and my mother and her brothers picked it up, and so have I. Maybe it's a asian thing, but they joke about the flamingo pose.
BambooBraden
My sister, my nephew, and I went to the Birmingham Zoo one quiet Monday. The Zoo offers a variety of animals for us humans to enjoy seeing and experiencing. It's a nice area, trying to integrate natural surroundings for the creatures while keeping conveniences, such as a tiki-like food bar, a restaurant, bathrooms, a gift shop, and water fountains and sanitation stations, nearby. I can't help to feel sort of sad, though, whenever I am visiting. They look so bored and out of their elements (well, most of the rambunctious monkeys do not seem to mind hooting and hollering when they're in). The Gorillas just sit and stare, one putting his head on his hand like he's the thinker and mentally sighing at there being absolutely nothing to do. Or maybe the two gorillas were just mad at each other and that's why they sat at opposite sides of the cage, I mean friendly fake environment? Of course, if it were not for the zoos, I would never have seen so many exotic or ruthless animals so up close. But the ruthless don't seem so ruthless inside a glass case. Maybe that's why those idiots who got into the tiger cage thought they were tame. They weren't tame, they were bored! And obviously hungry.
Anywho...this particular zootastic day we wanted to see the Giraffe petting and Lion feeding. The zoo did neither, but my sister paid for my ticket and my lunch, so I took photos of any animals that weren't reflecting light in my camera with their glass encasement.
Shooting through glass can be a pain to get right. I should know, I've been working on it all semester! But my nephew seemed to have a good time. They built a rock playground with rope ladders and a rocking bridge for the kids since the last time I've been here, so he had himself a good little time in between animals. They have a petting farm with goats, sheeps, a chicken, two roosters, and a llama! (I'm super excited about the llama). And we went right before Halloween so there were all sorts of decorations made by local classrooms, including Candy Lane, all around the park.
Also, for your future information...the time right before Halloween is turtle-mating time, apparently. My nephew asked his mother what this weird noise was when they were coming to the reptile section. She didn't know until I pointed it out later. I had walked in earlier and saw a male turtle trying to get into a lady's shell and she was not having any of it! When I met up with my sister and my nephew back at that same spot, I found the male stuck on his side against the fence grabbling for a way to turn himself over. I graciously flipped him onto his little feet but sent him away with "You have no game with the ladies here."
Among the turtles, my favorite animals growing up that I loved to oogle at were: pygmy marmosets (my favorite monkey of all time, and the tiniest. I've always wanted one, I would probably lose it the first day though)
komodo dragon ( I used to think I could win at his staring contest I presumed he was having. When I did win, I filled with glee, he probably not so much)
the sloth ( it does absolutely nothing.)
whatever birds they have that has it's own little aviary where you can go in and feed them (and most likely get pooed on), their tongues creep me out, it darts out of an outer casing inside their mouths, like they have two tongues and one is hiding until you bring them food.
tigers ( I just like tigers, why must I have a reason?)
and pandas if there visiting. I'm asian, pandas look asian. Plus, because of this video:
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