If I Do Say So Myself....

Looking back on my very first blog post where I preached that at one point in my high school I believed that I was a decent writer until my senior English Literature teacher crushed any ounce of self-esteem, I really should have thanked him for it. I was able to start all over here at Penn State and in this English15 seminar class I was given the opportunity to form a voice of my own, as opposed to molding my thoughts to my teachers’ expectations.  I honestly think that the fact that this class was designed to highlight “The Arts in Penn State” is what kept my interest for so long. If I hadn’t been afforded the opportunity to base my writing on something that I’m already so passionate about, I don’t think I would have developed as a writer the same. I had always considered myself to write my best when I could speak freely, in more of a prose style, but rarely in high school was that the task at hand. I think that’s why I enjoyed assignments like posting my opinions and thoughts on the blog; it was a place for my to be graded by what I thought, without any mold to conform to. While most of the assignments this semester were on the other end of the spectrum from that of the limiting papers that I couldn’t master in high school, I still felt challenged and pushed to move outside of my comfort zone. When we were asked to write a memoir of our own, I was incredibly intimidated after hearing the eloquently written piece by Sheila, but I was also inspired to create something that wasn’t comparable, but my own. While I believe that I could have added more to my story and my struggle, it was still a great learning experience for me to condense all of my thoughts and not become too overbearing with all my ideas, which I ‘m told I do. With that being said, I’d also like to add how much the peer review exercises really did improve my style of writing. In previous English classes it was just the teacher handing out advice and it was a completely new experience to have a peer give me unbiased and helpful criticism. While I think I have more to learn, knowing that I can’t rely on my prose writing preference forever, I believe that I have finally developed that unique voice that is my own and that I can still evoke that voice without steering too far away from what is asked.

Not Just Because She's My Teacher

            I’m proud to say that I have privileged enough to hear not only one example of my own teacher’s talent but also several. Not only was it nice to have a relaxed class where we could all just sit back and listen but also I was really excited to hear more of Sheila’s work…and no I’m not trying to kiss her ass ;). Beginning with a lyric essay titled “Self Portrait with Rollercoaster” designed in an eight parts; it was my first time hearing a piece of this format. Being introduced to a style completely unfamiliar to me I wasn’t sure what to expect or what to pay attention to.

There were however a few components that stuck out to me, like the use of anaphora with “see her” and alliteration with “watch her watch,” and the bookend structure, beginning and ending with the slides. There was one line in particular that stood out to me, “here they dare each other.” Why it did I cannot say, for some reason it resonated with me the most; maybe it was a sense of impulse in which I was in search of myself. Continuing on through the reading, a series of different style poems, from found poems, and letter poems to dream poems, which I found in specific quite fascinating, With the found poem about Sheila’s grandmother’s advice for the wedding night, I couldn’t help but laugh because I could never in a million years picture my own nana giving out such blunt and unexpected advice. I was very intrigued with the concept of turning a dream sequence into a poem, maybe because my dream recall is fairly poor compared to Sheila’s vivid dreaming, I was inspired to give it a try myself. After going over my notes from class, the poem I put a giant star by was Sheila’s relationship poem. The metaphor of the front and back door or wing moving through and the differences between them seemed to make the poem most relatable; everyone has experienced at some point or another “the sounds of someone leaving” or at least I have. The ability to take inanimate objects, apply such intense emotions and background to them is what I believe what makes a good writer.

SRTE form

Hey Sheila!
Finished my STRA form!
Thanks,
Kate :)

An Overdue Review

            While this review is incredibly overdue, better late than never. Back in September I visited the Foster Auditorium to see a poet by the name of Laura. I had never been to a poetry reading before and I had some sort of stereotypical image in my head; where the room was dimly lit, poets reading their work with a bit of over exaggeration, and everyone would applaud with finger snaps. I was thankfully proved wrong. The atmosphere was very relaxed and Laura presented herself as an equal whom I believe made her poems more inclusive and understandable. Hearing several poems from her new book, a couple stood out to me in particular. A poem titled The Selvage was a story told from her daughter’s perspective in reference to President Obama’s campaign in the south. It was set in the summer at the peak of the campaign and began with a question and answer; “Who are you voting for?” “The black guy.”  The Selvage presented several blind insults, which paralleled how so many Americans are blind to what is actually going on, too many people are misinformed or not informed at all. What I found most interesting about this poem was that the observations were made by her young daughter; she seemed to be more aware than the majority of society. I found a new appreciation for poetry at this reading however, my experience was fairly interrupted by the woman sitting next to me. I believe she was a professor in the English department or an admirer, and her enthusiasm was too much for me to handle. I couldn’t help but be distracted when she would lean too far over on my armrest and repeatedly gasp in my ear. I thought that at some point she may settle down, but no, no she didn’t. What was most irritating was that I felt compelled to leave the reading because I couldn’t concentrate on the guest speaker. I’m sure the woman sitting next to me had no knowledge she was being so distracting but I’ve learned my lesson, steer clear of faculty at school-sponsored events.  

Sh*t hit the fan

When I was in high school I had no genuine tie to my school, I was bitter and felt no pride towards it. So coming to Penn State, I knew that I was proud and happy to go here but I never anticipated I would have such strong feelings about it. When the scandal hit I felt a multitude of things; embarrassed, disappointed, and most of all upset that MY school had a bulls eye painted on its back. More and more of my friends began posting ignorant and smart-ass comments about the scandal and it was the first time I ever felt a strong responsibility to defend Penn State. Lori Shontz words really resonated with me when she said “something has been taken away from your identity,” and I honestly felt that I was stripped of something. I was physically angry and frustrated that people were so quick to judge when accurate and sound information had yet to be released; but everyone just loves a good scandal.

            I was one of the thousands of students rioting on Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and I can honestly say that I felt something. Going to a school with over 40 thousand students, I felt as if we were all connect, one big family. The experience of running from Beaver Ave to Old Main with no real sense of direction; it was empowering. The students finally had a say in how we were represented because our administration failed us. With that being said however, the riots got out of hand and escalated to a point that showed even more negative light on the University. Sheila Squillante said it perfectly “Maybe [we’re] too close.” I think at that point we all felt such a strong need to defend every last criticism and losing our beloved coach of 46 years pushed us over the edge. But none of us thought to step back and think, am I too close to it all, am I really focusing on what’s important?

            After stepping back and reevaluating, Penn State had a moment of redemption with the candle light vigil on Old Main in support of the victims. I wasn’t there myself to experience it but from what I was told, it was a proud moment for all us Nittany Lions. I honestly believe that it’s a shame that in spite of the great things that this school has offered to the community the media continues to do a terrible job at covering the story to begin with. Going back home, I was able to supply more accurate information I read in our Daily Collegian than that of a major broadcasting network. Then again I may just be too close again. In my opinion, attention shouldn’t be kept on Joe Paterno, whatever his involvement may be because when it comes down to it, no REALLY knows what anyone knew in the first place. I found it incredibly upsetting that this poor 84 year old man who has devoted his entire life to not only the football program but to the university itself has to end his legacy in such a terrible way. At the end of the day though, the school felt that they had the schools best interest in mind and we all just have to see what happens. A lot is left to be explained about both the scandal and the future of Penn Sate but as our beloved coach said on the night of the riots, “go home, pray for the victims. WE ARE Penn State, and we will forever be Penn STate

Kiss Me, Kate!

I have been blessed enough to have seen several musicals on Broadway in New York City and even small stage productions at my high school. Over the years, my expectations have amounted to expect the unexpected; no play or musical for that matter can be the same and therefore anticipating something in particular is useless. I will say however, that every musical I have seen has always left me with an appreciation for its genre in the world of playwrights. After seeing Penn State’s production of Kiss Me, Kate! I was very impressed to say the least. Going into the performance I was pretty exciting because I had always heard great things about the play itself but had never had the chance to see it. I wasn’t aware though that the play was based on Shakespeare’s comedy Taming of the Shrew, always having an appreciation for his work and I was even more excited.

I wouldn’t say that I had low expectations, but I was surprised that a college production could compare to the experiences that I’ve seen on Broadway. While the stage itself was smaller, they set design and precision of moving from one scene to another was executed professionally. Comparable to plays I’ve seen such as The Lion King and In the Heights, where this play lacked in outlandish costumes and props, they made up for in overall performance. Every actor completely committed to his or her role and even role within a role, which I believe impressed me the most. The complex structure of Kiss Me, Kate! left me confused on all of the intermingled relationships; who was in love with whom. I believe however, that it was performed so well, I didn’t focus on the questions I had but rather appreciated the performance as a whole. I do although think it would’ve been helpful to have read Shakespeare’s play; now I’m determined to take it off my bookshelf and finally read it.

Some of the most memorable components of the play were the characters Lilli and Fred’s complex relationship evolving throughout, along with the incredible voices and dancing of all those performing, and comedic roles of the “two men.” The witty banter and bickering between Lilli and Fred was new relationship that I had never witnessed on the stage before, all of the other plays I’ve seen have been more of a serious nature and it was a nice change. Another memorable moment was the opening scene of Act II, “It’s Too Darn Hot.” I grew up a dancer and I had a great appreciation for this scene and every single one of the actors’ ability to convey emotion without dialogue. Like other students that I spoke with, I was a fan of the “two men” and their goofy, uninhibited performance of loan sharks thrown into a play. Their characters served as perfect comedic relief within Taming of the Shrew, which I enjoyed the most.

While there were a few things I would change about the play, for example, including a little background of Shakespeare’s comedy in the playbill and making the play a little shorter, I truly did enjoy the experience and I would recommend it to anyone.

Thursday Morning in the Cold

Normally I would complain about having to get up early and spend my morning out in the cold, but our class trip to the arboretum was quite the experience. I had been out there once before, around the beginning of the school year and it was breathtaking. My roommate and I spend the entire morning sleeping in on football Saturday and wanted to get some fresh air. We saw the fountain out front from afar and made it our destination. At the end of August the flowers were still full bloom, colors weaving in and out one another, trees still had their leaves and the long aisle leading to a vine-covered archway was the main attraction.  I could then understand why there was a several yearlong waiting list to get married there. Our trip on Thursday, being my second trip to the Penn State Arboretum it was a completely different experience. Without all of the immediate eye catching beauty that the summer season provides, it was easier to concentrate on the hidden intricacies that make it incredible. Walking through the second time I was attracted to the complexity of the pathways and how there was always more than one direction to take, no dead ends. I thought that in its own way it could be considered art, in the sense that it presents several different perspectives and leaves the audience wondering, “what if I went the other way?” I believe that if you’re left wondering something, that’s what makes it artistic. As I continued walking around, one of the most memorable spots was where we all first met, the pavilion area in the back of the Arboretum. It’s simplistic structure and openness allowed for the nature to represent itself, especially the tall, bare tree standing alone. I believe, and to use a cliché “less is more” and that the Arboretum was designed to show a balance of both ornate and simple beauty. While walking through, I wondered if by going during every season I would discover and appreciate something I didn’t notice before. Therefore it is my plan to visit sporadically throughout the year and put my questions to the test.

Penn State Under the Microscope

In all honesty, my first impression of the title given to Penn State in 2009, I wasn’t that surprised. I had heard about the school’s reputation for partying when I was applying and I can’t lie and say that it was a nice bonus to its academic standings. Penn State is infamously known for being a football-oriented school, being one of the largest in the nation, and displaying tremendous pride for being a Nittany Lion, and those are the values that I gravitated to the most. This American Life took it upon themselves to investigate what exactly qualifies a school to assume the role of the number one party school. It began with a “typical Friday night” with students stumbling, carrying on, pulling street signs out of the ground and waking up the Happy Valley residents; one in particular who used to be a part of NPR herself. She gave an inside look to the weekly encounters she experiences with Penn State partiers. My initial reaction to both Ira Glass and Sarah Koeing was considerably judgmental and pretentious. Within the first ten minutes it was concluded that the outrageous actions and crazy experiences could only be found in places like Penn State. Although this argument can be viewed in several different ways, Glass’ choice of words made it seem that his argument was exclusive to PSU, when in actuality any college in the country has the potential to be the number one ranked party school in America. It was said best by the University’s President himself that the voting is done by the students, and the students alone; there is no real adequate form of measurement taken into account, other than college students wanting the opportunity to say “hey, I go to the number one party school!” Despite some of my defensive points to NPR’s argument, I do believe there is a considerable amount of credibility in what they pointed out. Glass and Koeing approached their argument in gradual steps, beginning with silly little examples of the shenanigans that occur around campus, elevates to routy behavior among the fraternities and even some embarrassing drunk dialogue, and finally landing on the most important matter of safety.  By doing this I believe they affectively made their point that there is a definite drinking problem on campus without appearing too overwhelming and aggressive. This then raised the question amongst the university leaders on which next step to take, whether it be to wage a war between the students and faculty or a new approach. I believe one of the smartest decisions made by Penn State was to focus on helping and looking after one another rather than pressing for a dry campus, because the statistics show that most of the trouble lies with those moderate drinkers who lack a watchful eye or someone to walk home with.

My overall consensus on the investigation of Penn State’s party school status was that in some respects it was at times very entertaining and hilarious, some situations appalling and embarrassing, but all in all not 100% surprising. It was said by the reporters themselves that when else will we have the time to experience these things, make mistakes and learn from them? I truly believe that improvements can be made in protecting and ensuring the safety of the students, however, this happens all over the country and is not exclusive to Penn State. I just hope that by making an example of our University, people learn a thing or two from it. I definitely know that I have.

My Favorite Bench

Several times a week I find myself with time in between classes and instead of hauling all the way back to my dorm, just to turn back around soon after, I explore campus. I promised myself upon arrival at Penn State that I would spend each day taking in a new part of campus. While there are beautiful spaces all over campus, one spot in particular that I eventually find myself at by the end of the day. Down on the southwest end of campus at the intersection of West College Ave and South Allen St, facing the Sacket Building is my personal escape. Under a canopy of oak trees sits a wooden bench, enough to fit two or three people, if you squeeze, that absorbs a just enough sunlight to keep you warm without becoming too overwhelming. In close proximity to downtown there’s a mixture of the blue loop coming and going, the shifting gears of bikes making their way up the daunting hill, students on the phone walking to and from class, the mouth watering smell of freshly baked bread and hot coffee from Irving’s, and possibly the most alluring characteristic is the family of ducks that wait by the bushes behind the bench for a kind student to spare some food. This particular spot on campus perfectly juxtaposes both the fast paced downtown with small town appeal that drew me to Penn State in the first place. It displays the best of both worlds, making it the perfect escape from the stresses in my life.

Palmer Museum of Art: Modern Limits

            Walking into the Palmer Museum of Art, I have to admit I was impressed. I’ve always been one for the arts and I’ve found myself in MOMA or the National Gallery of Art on random weekends, but Penn State displays art just as beautifully. As I made my way through the first floor I wasn’t struck by anything in particular, probably because I knew that I have an affinity for modern art. Upstairs I came across several striking pieces with vibrant colors and straight to the point messages, however, I wanted to be challenged by a piece instead of picking something easily understood. It wasn’t until the end of my visit that a painting titled Modern Limits, created by an American artist; William T. Wiley caught my eye. At first glance I didn’t understand anything about it, but I still had that visual appeal. Examining it more closely I learned the piece was made in 1975, using acrylics and charcoal on canvas, and beyond the technical components, the artist was predominantly known for his influence in the northern California Funk Art Movement; which can be “categorized by irreverence and self-consciously unrefined style.”

            The painting is in landscape form with a frayed and withered looking border. There’s a gray consistency among the painting, starting with its background and darker strokes of gray and black covering the majority of the canvas. Color such as red, yellow, orange, green and blue do appear sporadically throughout the painting however, in much smaller amounts, like a single stroke or line to add subtle variation. In the center of the painting there is a crescent moon with light beaming from the edges with a hint of yellow. Most of the defined images appear in the bottom left corner where an eye is peering through a telescope facing a skull with a broken smile. In addition on of the main focal points of the piece, a set of stairs drawn to resemble that of blueprints originates in the bottom left corner. Weaving and out of the painting are what seems to be smoke or a screen the envelopes the buildings, roads and workers. Another small reoccurring theme throughout the artwork were little quotes of ambiguous nonsense such as “well I think such and such and it has to be this or that or so and so because of such and such and we’ve named them this because of that.”

Upon first looking at Wiley’s piece I wouldn’t necessarily say it had an emotional impact on me, but generated curiosity.  What’s its purpose? What message is it sending me? I have to admit that that’s why I loved it so much, it didn’t have a literal meaning, I had to explore. With more investigation of the painting the colors, more importantly the juxtaposition of the hard and soft use of gray and subtle pops of color conveyed a somber and overwhelming emotion. It gave me the impression that the gray and black smoke serves to impose a feeling of miscommunication among society, and that it all has become just white noise, which in all honesty scares me a lot. I hope that with our fast-paced country, we don’t continue to progress and move forward without any real direction.

           

Wiley’s Modern Limits serves to support his belief in the Funk Art Movement, by means to “reintroduce social responsibility into contemporary art.” While it was painted in the mid-1970’s, the artist references his father’s job as a surveyor for the U.S. government when he was a young boy. Even though there is a significant gap in time from when he painted the piece and the point of reference, the underlying meaning pertains to modern day standards. My interpretation of Wiley’s argument is that there’s a conflict with the need to push boundaries and progress as society, when development must happen organically and can’t be forced. With the help of Wiley’s notes of complete ambiguity, it drives the argument that constructive and beneficial decisions are not being made, but we continue to build our society just for the sake of not being left behind or considered as inferior by others. I believe the name in its own describes the artist’s feelings that limits must be put into place for healthy progression. As far as Wiley’s credibly goes, the origin of the Funk Art Movement began with him and his colleagues at the University of California at Davis and expanded to a countrywide movement that influenced the art world immensely. 

 I had an amazing time walking from room to room throughout the Palmer, and I hope to spend more than just an hour there so I can take in everything it has to offer. 

Journal #1: My life as a writer

            As a child I had a wild imagination, creating stories, immersing myself in fantasies, and escaping to my own world, where the wild things are. Somewhere along the line I feel like I lost sight of that genuine creativity. All through high school I found myself just “getting by” with my writing as a student. I guess you could say that it was a rare moment when I was truly passionate about what I was writing. I was fortunate enough to have a teacher my junior year who pushed my boundaries and guided my writing style into a more advanced standing. However, senior year I was pushed straight back into mediocrity with a teacher who preached the philosophy of “it’s my way or the highway.” And no, I’m not exaggerating. Therefore, you can understand by I chose to write about Harry Potter during my AP exam, it was the only novel of “comparable literary merit” that I could write passionately about. Despite my grievances with the rhetoric and composition taught in high school, I hope to leave all of those pessimistic views and make a complete 180 and return to that state of imagination that consumed my life as a child. I mean everyone wants to be a kid again in one way or another, why not in writing, just without the crayons.  

            As a developing writer I can confidently say that I have acquired quite a few strengths, starting with my ability to accept constructive criticism. Despite my previous bitter emotions towards my high school teachers, I was always able to listen and recognize what I need to improve on as a student and writer. Another strength that I have developed is my ability to whole-heartedly invest in a piece of work, hold on there’s a catch, when I have a strong opinion or find myself passionate about. I know most people can definitively say the same thing, however, my best work has come from topics where I have more than an ounce of interest.

While that can be considered one of my greatest strengths, at the same time it serves as one of my biggest weakness as a developing writer because I don’t care to give it that 110% that I would do with topics I have interest in. Tough luck, everyone has to indulge in situations that they don’t necessarily agree with or feel motivated by. So I plan to look at the vast differences throughout Penn State as inspiration to take everything in and give it a fair chance. On a more technical level, I also hope to improve on my transitions from one paragraph to another. For some reason in high school, I was always under the impression that my ideas flowed throughout my work, until I was corrected of that notion when I received my paper.

I believe that I have been afforded an excellent opportunity within this course through peer review to have my work be seen by eyes other than the teacher and mine. On a personal level I plan to grow as a writer by giving everything a shot and allow myself not to be narrow minded in my opinions. Hopefully these actions will not only improve my skill as a writer but as a person as well.

A form of memorable art I stumbled upon a few years ago on a spur of the moment trip to the National Gallery of Art, still to this day resonates with me. The photography of Robert Frank, most famously known for his work traveling across United States and capturing the day-to-day lives of Americans from the early 1920’s to late 1950’s. One of the things that struck me the most was his ability to encompass both a rawness and beauty during the hardest years of our country’s history. Frank truly has a talent for exposing the emotions of every passing face captured by his camera, and most notably, without the support that color ordinarily offers to a message. I’ve enclosed one of my personal favorites from his collection because it reminds me of the young Kate, who had quite the amazing imagination and which I hope to return to. http://www.shanelavalette.com/images/journal/dannywilcoxfrazier01.jpg