After watching the short film, "Moments," by Will Hoffman, think back over the last week. Now freeze, in your mind, a single moment. What makes it stand out from the millions of other moments you've experienced this week? What colors, textures, and sounds define this moment for you? Try to describe every detail, paying special attention to the infinitesimal (the very small): What did the ground feel like beneath your feet? What did his voice sound like when he said that thing that hurt, made you smile, or made you turn and walk away? Your moment might be something monumental or very simple. It's your choice. Don't get bogged down by explanation. Try to capture the moment as you felt it.Each week, I'd like you to capture at least one moment from your life to portray in your journals. At midterm, I'll collect your journals to ensure that you've been keeping up, and at the end of the semester I'll collect them again to configure your grades (journals are worth 10% of your final grades).For a participation point, I'd like all of you to post your first journal entries in the comments section of this post. I've already posted one of mine to be referenced as an example. Please add yours by next Tuesday, February 9th by noon. As a rule, weekly journal entries will be expected each Tuesday.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Weekly Moments Journal
After watching the short film, "Moments," by Will Hoffman, think back over the last week. Now freeze, in your mind, a single moment. What makes it stand out from the millions of other moments you've experienced this week? What colors, textures, and sounds define this moment for you? Try to describe every detail, paying special attention to the infinitesimal (the very small): What did the ground feel like beneath your feet? What did his voice sound like when he said that thing that hurt, made you smile, or made you turn and walk away? Your moment might be something monumental or very simple. It's your choice. Don't get bogged down by explanation. Try to capture the moment as you felt it.Each week, I'd like you to capture at least one moment from your life to portray in your journals. At midterm, I'll collect your journals to ensure that you've been keeping up, and at the end of the semester I'll collect them again to configure your grades (journals are worth 10% of your final grades).For a participation point, I'd like all of you to post your first journal entries in the comments section of this post. I've already posted one of mine to be referenced as an example. Please add yours by next Tuesday, February 9th by noon. As a rule, weekly journal entries will be expected each Tuesday.
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The reading room at night contains a stillness almost nauseating, set, as it is, against the dark waves of the Hudson. In a straight-backed chair, with the lights out, I sit and feel the city shift around me, not touching me, not even close. Through the windows I see the lights like slack stars of the Jersey City skyline--tepid and weary, growing dimmer every second. I feel relieved sitting here, exhausted among the thousands of unopened books without enough light by which to read even a single page--discovery and wonder still preserved on their shelves. I think of all the poems I've committed to memory, rendered to rubble, mere beats and phrases in the recesses of my mind, and I feel glad about that: relics of another time, the self emptied like a vacuum bag, ready to start all over again.
ReplyDeleteWhen the night comes, my day begin again ... Because, at the end of each day, when my husband and my child go to bed, I start analyzing the development of my projects (my family, my work and my studies). Sometimes tiredness overcomes me and I go to bed, but minutes later, I get up and realize I can't sleep without doing my count, I can not find peace without assure my self everything is in control ... Finally, after my daily review, I go to my daughter's crib, I pause to contemplate her, she is the most beautiful thing God has given to me, I touch her, I would like to kiss her but is sleeping and I do not want to disturb her. I watched intently, I hear her breathing, appreciate her innocence, I question why I love her that much, I find no reasons or answers ... I thank my God (Jehovah), I bless God, I commend, I whisper my love to them (to God, my husband and my daugther) Now I'm ready, now I can sleep
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ReplyDeleteAs I turned the corner the light changed to yellow than quickly to red. A bang on the hood following a knock on the window “license and rate card please.....” right than everything froze, my head started calculating the result of that bang and the following knock. I thought about the days, weeks and months this knock would follow me. Twenty minutes now to get the summons three to four weeks to get a court date, than two to three months until appearing in court. All this clicked in a few seconds, and there was the end of my day, changed the day within a few seconds.
ReplyDeleteWith an overwhleming feeling of joy, i embraced the beauty of the park i was sitting in. As i spoke to my friend the cold smoke of air came from our mouths. We watched out dogs run so innocently through the grass as they panted in excitment.I felt the winter chill go up my spine, i wanted to stay and enjoy every moment of this beauty, but moments later reality struck and it was all a dream
ReplyDeleteIn the hustle and bustle of the underground railroad in New York City, I may stand or I may sit beside people of different races and ethnicity. The skin tones vary from black, white, browned skinned to yellow. Outside the train in the dark underground tunnel, you can see the graffiti and drawings under the illuminating light. The "ding dong" sound of the doors opening and closing at every stop can get irritating at times, forcing me to put the volume of my i pod on high. The homeless and beggars constantly pass by, smelling like reeking urine and sweat, asking for change. It can be heartbreaking at times, because I cannot give to all. The street lights shining bright when I am above ground, a sign that I am almost at my destination; and that only NYC shines so bright. This is my train ride home.
ReplyDeleteBasement cafeteria is no more than white artificial neon lights splashing down our dressed-up bodies. As I sit for lunch with food in the tray, I see familiar people with common black hair, white, yellow faces standing along the sides with smiles that melts away your cold heart in a second. In the teal plastic lunch tray lays an approximate 12 centimeter in diameter plastic recyclable bowl overwhelmed with conglomeration of green vegetables and brown meat. At the corner small red cubicle-looking, well-seasoned spicy Kimchi rests circumscribed in a fake cylinder. As I reach the usual mini-plastic spoon, one scoop, two scoops, three scoops of white, yellow, green substances dive automatically into my mouth. After finishing the lunch, I go to a meeting at the fourth-floor..
ReplyDeleteIt is Sunday evening. Another hour of tiresome wandering around the departments of this huge store in the very center of Manhattan. There is no even a single thing that would attract me. Maybe, its just my bad mood. I am getting annoyed with this overcrowded place and people around me: smiley and enthusiastic, they strength my desire to leave. And then I see her - about 25 years old brunette girl, who moves in her wheelchair from one store section to another. She smiles to her friends who acompany her and everything in her behavior is so natural, that it seems like a sence of inferiority is completely strange and unknown to her. There is so much light in her eyes that I involuntarily felt myself ashamed and embarrassed of how spoilt I am, of my inability to simply rejoice the world around me as this girl-invalid does. There are so more serious things to get upset with then just a choice of clothes or miserable shopping...
ReplyDeleteMy alarm clock goes off every morning at 4:30 a.m. to start my new day which I'm never prepared for, what will it be today my unprofessional supervisors, or the men and women I have to provide care, custody and control for it doesn't matter I could be in a great mood and somehow once I get there my great mood just goes down the drain I still smile and say good morning and try my best to not let it get to me because it is a profession I always say chose me and has helped me to provide for my family.
ReplyDeleteEveryday is like a routine out of that movie "Groundhog Day" I wake at the same time wondering what time is it as I glance over to the alarm clock and I see it watching me as if it never took its eyes of me all night, at least I could depend on it for time. I also wake not knowing what day it is, but it does not even matter because I know I need to start my routine to go to work. It seems as the day repeats itself over and over and the only way that I am able to break this routine is waiting for those two days off from work in which I cherish like it was priceless moments in my life. It is like looking at one those time pieces made from sand and waiting to the last piece of sands drops so you could turn it over and start again. I wake up take a bath, do my hygiene, get dressed, get in my car taking the same route, and then finally check into work knowing that my day would finally start at the exact same time of 07:37am everyday. At that time I pause and wonder what day it is as I take a look at the calendar and say dam I must have just turned over the time piece.
ReplyDeleteNina
ReplyDeleteI am standing at the 86th Street in Brooklyn. Its freezing and windy - winter is definitely not the best season for public transportation users. The bus Stop is located right next to the children playground and this detail smoothes the unconvenience of waiting in a cold weather. Children's voices attract me away from my thoughts about a tardy bus and I unwittingly getting involved in this entertainment that is happening around. There are three kids are playing the ball, two others are fighting for some toy and comparing there physical appearance I already know who will be the winner... There is a bench occupied by five girls of about the same age, their attention is carried away by the anormous size American Doll, which was probably brought today by its little owner for the very first time. And then the sound of oncoming B8 brings me back a perception of reality and a cold weather...
San Valentine's day... another creative idea for making people spend money. I never understand why people think that giving material things is the best way to say I love you. Certainly love is to give, but, is to give YOU to the other person through your actions. For example my baby Cristi... I've spent a lot of money buying toys for her and I was frustrated when I realized she did not pay the attention I expected to the toys. So, I change my method, now I let her to touch and to seize every thing she wants (if not dangerous) and I play with her, usign all sorts of things even if they are not toys (for example my keys, my scarf, plastic containers of the kitchen, etc.). I stopped buying unnecesary toys and I start having quality time with her and my husband, the results confirm to me, that this is my best gift of love for them.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I am not sure if weekly journal entries continue being expected before each Tuesday...
ReplyDeleteWhile my daughter and I are at home, my husband complains because he feels loneliness. I don’t understand what he wants to mean when he said “that feels loneliness” because we live together and we always spent time “as a family “. Certainly we got up early and came late at home but often, after we reached home he prefers to watch some championship at TV than to play with us. This is the principal reason I don’t understand why he complains about feeling lonely. Sometimes when I try to seek explanations I’ve thought that his feelings of emptiness maybe related to craving for affection. I’ve talked to him it’s important to realize that just because he feels alone, it doesn't mean he must be lonely or lonesome. While it may not always be possible to avoid feeling lonely, there are always answers to loneliness. For example, If he doesn’t want to stay away from us while we (my daughter and I) are doing “Girl things” the simply solution is to come with us and get involved in our things. I encouraged him to be willing to take action. Don’t just passively sit and wait for us to go with him…Finally, I don’t understand why some men are like that, when you have a baby at home, they used to behave as the second baby (please gentlemen do not complain about my comment because is the result of the interview I made to other 5 married women).
ReplyDeleteI seldom take the train to school, infact I seldom take the train anywhere. I usually drive get driving or take the express bus. The train to me seems like a jail cell underground, it takes long smells like hot pee and trash vapors. Anyone who has never been in the subway could never imagine just how filthy it is. Even in the pitch black of night when you think you are traveling alone that way no one will bump into you accidentally touching your butt on purpose you are never alone you have enough pet rats to keep your company. I avoid the setting like the plague.
ReplyDeleteSo you could just picture just how I felt when my car broke down having to try getting it fixed left no money for express bus rides. I felt low as I couldn’t find anyone to take me where I needed to go. I was backed in a corner. Here we go! I had to go to their house I have to visit my little furry friends. I was upset at the thought of it sitting where they ran walking where they walked it sickened me. I sat on the bus pouting when I saw a few old friend I had lost contact with a while back it was great to see them at least I had company to take the train with me. Walked on the train, sat down and caught up. “Did you know this” no no I didn’t… “Did you know that?” yes yes I heard laughter filled the train car. As we pulled closer to Manhattan I started to get quizy.
I got ready, at that time of the day there is always someone coming in the car begging for money of selling batteries and candy. I always leave a train ride a lot poorer than when I began the trip. Today I was ready for them. I practiced in my head “no, sorry I don’t have it” “I’m just as poor as you are”. I sat there friend in the seat across from me as the train becomes packed we get out off from each other. Okay so I started to read a book and interesting book I started and could never finish something would always interrupted my progress. As planned on que I think I smelled him before I saw him and then I heard him. “Oh my gosh” I thought I was much easier in my head guess I was just a softy. I tried to justify it in my head why are they homeless there is no reason for that there are shelter if worst comes to worst.
I pulled the book closer to my face and berried my face in it I could smell the paper, the ink. Good I thought he really did smell bad. Too bad that might have worked but my curiosity got the best of me. I slightly peeked over the book where is he I asked myself I could locate home. Then he came crawling down the ile I usually look at them saying he looks strong enough for a job. This one he was different. He had no leg. I started feel an instant guilt, I judge a book by the cover of another. I dig in my pocket believe me I felt guilty not stupid, the only thing I could pull up was my last five dollar bill he saw me I couldn’t stuff it back in my pocket now it was too late. I handed it to him and his face lite up brighter g than any morning star could. I did a good thing, my friend brows knitted, but I did a good thing. He was less fortunate and even if he was the one that did it to himself, people make mistakes as do I as does my friends and I know I wouldn’t have like to be down on my face and have no one help me.
We walked off the train car one said oh he is gonna go buy another rock, the other say or drink himself to sleep and I smile well if that’s what makes him feel better about his ordeal so be it. If and when he gets hungry he will know what to do I tried to help. It was then I appreciated the small things I can go to work I can walk and if all else fails I have a beautiful wonderful family who would never allow me to fail. I thanked god even for the train ride I also prayed for him that night and fell asleep squeezing my daughter tight thankful for her too.