Through the Back Door
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
writing bad stories
I have made a discover and no, sadly it is not of the shinny kind. This discover is the desire that, well, I want to write, and I actually am writing.
I went to this little art supply store near the Roman Spanish Steps two days ago and bought myself another lovely little Moleskine for the sole purpose of filling it with horrible writings and crazy ideas. I write down all the weird and normal things that are Rome, trying to build up a good source of details. This is my thing now. My purpose in Rome. I finally feel I can live through my Roman experience as I now have a purpose, or something like that.
Last night I wrote this story about a woman who was sleeping with this guy who has bunions. Yes. Bunions. I don't know why, but that's what I wrote...and it makes me laugh everytime I think about it. So even though nothing will probably ever come of this story, I find it incredibly funny. ¶ 12:46 PM 0 comments
I went to this little art supply store near the Roman Spanish Steps two days ago and bought myself another lovely little Moleskine for the sole purpose of filling it with horrible writings and crazy ideas. I write down all the weird and normal things that are Rome, trying to build up a good source of details. This is my thing now. My purpose in Rome. I finally feel I can live through my Roman experience as I now have a purpose, or something like that.
Last night I wrote this story about a woman who was sleeping with this guy who has bunions. Yes. Bunions. I don't know why, but that's what I wrote...and it makes me laugh everytime I think about it. So even though nothing will probably ever come of this story, I find it incredibly funny. ¶ 12:46 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
when I read, I read
I read at least five books at one time. Adorno, Said, Gramsci, Livy, Machiavelli, all big names for such a little mind as mine. I get overwhelmed with so many big ideas that I read one book for a while and then when I need a rest to digest all I've read I switch to one of the other books I'm reading.
Recently, I've had the overwhelming desire to just talk to someone about the stuff I'm reading and yet I can't find a single soul in this school who actually has the ability to hold an intellectual conversation. Even my professors seem suprised and twitchy at my approach with a question or comment.
So I am forced to stalk old professors from other schools for any type of conversation.
Another one of my outlets of late, I bought another beautiful notebook today to write stories and other such scribbles in, hopefully it will help me vent this hightened sense of intellectual passion in a huge gust of ink! ¶ 12:22 PM 0 comments
Recently, I've had the overwhelming desire to just talk to someone about the stuff I'm reading and yet I can't find a single soul in this school who actually has the ability to hold an intellectual conversation. Even my professors seem suprised and twitchy at my approach with a question or comment.
So I am forced to stalk old professors from other schools for any type of conversation.
Another one of my outlets of late, I bought another beautiful notebook today to write stories and other such scribbles in, hopefully it will help me vent this hightened sense of intellectual passion in a huge gust of ink! ¶ 12:22 PM 0 comments
Monday, February 20, 2006
a discourse: the library, Plato and Gramsci
I go to the library to find a book on plato and end up with a book on platonic theology by Marsilio Ficino. What the heck!? I am an idiot, that's all there is too it.
Later, roaming through the library, I tried to find a place to sit myself but every table, chair and cranny was taken by some laptop toting JCU student! Thus I went into my favorite room (the philosophy and sociology section) and sat on this inch high ledge of a cold and shadowy window. I sat there for a minute or two, fuming at the horde of students in the other room, but was quickly distracted by my knee high companions. Books. Right in front of me stood a whole wonderful section of Gramsci. I was in heaven! The first book I picked up was a collection of his prison letters, which were most interesting and depressing at the same time. Interesting to see Gramsci writing in a more personal form yet still expressing his most powerful ideas and depressing because he was inprisoned for over ten years. The letters show how he struggled with his confinement and being cut off from the world, and as sad as it is, I actually felt I could relate.
Being here in Rome, a foreign language, foreign people and place, sometimes actually feels like being in prison as I have very limited contact with the world I know best. Of course it is silly of me to relate my life to the struggle of Gramsci, unlike him, I could leave and go home anytime I want too. In other words, my inprisonment is by choice, his was not.
And that my friends, is my discourse of the day. Ciao. ¶ 10:10 AM 0 comments
Later, roaming through the library, I tried to find a place to sit myself but every table, chair and cranny was taken by some laptop toting JCU student! Thus I went into my favorite room (the philosophy and sociology section) and sat on this inch high ledge of a cold and shadowy window. I sat there for a minute or two, fuming at the horde of students in the other room, but was quickly distracted by my knee high companions. Books. Right in front of me stood a whole wonderful section of Gramsci. I was in heaven! The first book I picked up was a collection of his prison letters, which were most interesting and depressing at the same time. Interesting to see Gramsci writing in a more personal form yet still expressing his most powerful ideas and depressing because he was inprisoned for over ten years. The letters show how he struggled with his confinement and being cut off from the world, and as sad as it is, I actually felt I could relate.
Being here in Rome, a foreign language, foreign people and place, sometimes actually feels like being in prison as I have very limited contact with the world I know best. Of course it is silly of me to relate my life to the struggle of Gramsci, unlike him, I could leave and go home anytime I want too. In other words, my inprisonment is by choice, his was not.
And that my friends, is my discourse of the day. Ciao. ¶ 10:10 AM 0 comments
