The end draws near...

and I am so sad. This has been one of my favorite classes ever in life ever. 

But on with the self-reflection for the second half of the semester. 

Well, I stopped looking for seams. I stopped caring and began to care more about analyzing how pieces worked as a whole and what I could learn from that. It definitely allowed me to enjoy everything much more because I wasn’t so focused on picking things apart and scrutinizing; I was taking things in as they were presented to me and trying to see what made the piece/story/whatever turn into whatever it was that it became. (That was a horrible sentence.)

Another thing that I said I wanted to do and I think I at least attempted, which I have to give myself some kudos for, is stepping away from the narrative. As seen in my workshop, I tried not to make it so much of an actual plot as contemplation, I guess. That’s the best way I could describe it. My success is debatable, but at this point I’ve honestly stopped caring (in a good way).

Throughout this course I’ve stressed and stressed about doing things correctly. But there is no correct way to mix-up, mash-up, collage. I may not have always done the best or most impressive; I could certainly improve and I intend to. I truly think this was a valuable course because it helped me to look at writing in a completely different way and that is not an opportunity afforded in any other class offered probably anywhere at any time. Ever. I do think I improved over the course of the semester. I hope? Perhaps, I don’t know, really.

Regardless… I loved this class and no other class will ever live up to it. Thanks guise, you so great.

And good luck to you seniors going off on your boondocking, TBS-interviewing, Alyssa-I-don’t-know-what-you’re-doing-but-good-luck-with-it, endeavors! 

More stuff

http://flavorwire.com/95303/daily-dose-pick-chad-person

Chad Person shreds US dollar bills and makes collages out of the pieces. (He also deducts any money used in the collages from his taxes haha)

Newspaper Blackout

Found this on tumblr:

http://newspaperblackout.com/

You can submit the poetry you write via newspaper print and a black marker. :D

Tailoring

Like Alyssa said, the only way to trace where you’ve been is to mark the pages. Well, at first I didn’t think of that, but after last night when I was done I thought that I wanted to remember where I had been. I didn’t remember the order or anything, and I was actually glad that I wasn’t able to recall that or keep an exact order of what I did, but I did go back and check off what pages I had seen already so when I went back today I could pick back up. It would make me worry to think that I had missed out on something. I think that’s why I read on to the next page initially instead of following directions as I mentioned on Monday.

Anyway, the parts that tell me to choose a random page I think are a little more disorienting, at least for me. In the rest of the book, I get used to being told “if you want this, go here; if you want this, go here.” But when it tells me that I have the choice to do literally whatever I want, I get worried that I’m going to “mess it up.” I think, however, that that is the beauty of this collage—there really is no way to mess it up. No matter what you do or what order you go in, as long as you keep going you are pretty much guaranteed to end up on every page eventually. Every story is altered slightly, tailored to the reader. 

so many strands raveled together

I'm learning that the deeper you go into this book(?), the more disorienting it becomes. It really is like a maze; I feel like I keep cycling back to the same pages over and over, hitting dead ends, trying to find a path that takes me somewhere new. Sometimes I'm halfway through a page before I realize I've read it already. Or I think maybe I've read it, but I'm not really sure, because there's so much repetition throughout. Which can actually turn out to be pretty interesting, because I'll pick up on different things than I did the first time around. It also brings to the forefront the idea that in a work like this, how do you come to "the end"? How can you know (other than keeping track of the pages) that you've visited every single page? Are there pages with no pathways that lead to them? With the constant invitation to deform and change the work, it seems like this work has no end. It is constantly evolving with the reader as an individual, and each new reader who comes along. In a weird kind of way, it's almost like it's alive. So...yeah. Cycles, growth, adaptability. Yet more fun attributes to play with in collages.

Also, I liked this quote: "That thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you is usually what you need to find, and finding it is a matter of getting lost."

Breaking Rules (like not posting on time...not intentional, promise!)

First of all, let me just say that I am TOTALLY into Galerie. I know I make comparisons to this all the time, but it really reminded me of House of Leaves, except it was much more... light, I guess. Sort of how HoL  is supposed to be this clusterfuck of mind-bending stuff with all this weird experimental writing, but Galerie in itself is a whole different kind of "mind-bending" for me. It's challenging in that it requires that you 'choose your own adventure' but that you also 'break the rules'. But if the one "rule" of Galerie is to 'break the rules,' who's to say we can't just read on straight ahead and never stray from that path?

Okay, I know that's not the point, but I just had fun trying to figure that out. Anyway, Galerie is so mesmerizing because it essentially feels endless. If you ever read something collage-y like House of Leaves, you're guaranteed an ending. But with Galerie, it doesn't seem like your 'adventures' through the text could ever even be the same, unless you'd written down your paths and followed them to see & remember where you'd been and what the book had to tell you. I wish I had written down my path, because after I'd read so many I made myself stop because I want to begin completely over for Thursday's reading.

This book is so compelling and all of the different techniques used to make it are impressive & inspiring. Lots of good ideas for works like this that we could do... 

Deformation

To collage Alyssa's work who was collaging Rachel:

idea of deformity, breaking down and arranging the "normal" or "expected" into something new or strange or even frightening, bringing to light the underlying question of what isdeformity and the suggestion that deformity is inherent in life, inherent in our own selves.

I think this is probably one of the strangest things we've read for class. Maybe not in content, but definitely in exhibition. I found myself getting caught up in the letters to Gloria bits, occasionally purposefully searching out those pages to read them. I actually got gripped by the story, until I realized the the author IS Gretchen and there is no Gloria. (Yet, even now I have my doubts...)

I actually like a lot of the abstract bits. Usually, those just annoy me and make no sense or make me sleepy. But these were really cool. I felt like the book was challenging the reader to come to terms with something--perhaps their own deformities, their tendency to deform, or the search for hearts?

I also liked that the pages are constantly telling you to wreck them (Have you ever seen Wreck This Journal or Wreck This App?), but I haven't yet cuz (collaging Drew) I paid good money damnit!

a reader is left to pick through pieces to decipher a (w)hole from her parts.

As Rachel said, this work is a compilation of just about everything we've looked at thus far. Not only that, but the concept that lies at the heart of this work is a good summation of what we've been learning--this idea of deformity, breaking down and arranging the "normal" or "expected" into something new or strange or even frightening, bringing to light the underlying question of what is deformity and the suggestion that deformity is inherent in life, inherent in our own selves. Also, again stealing Rachel's thoughts, the ways in which the reader is actually inserted into the work at times is a new and interesting technique. There was one page I looked at that actually had blanks to insert your name in, as well as other people in the room, in addition to other information--I felt like I was playing Mad Libs. Reading that I had been showcased as a freak of nature was both thought-provoking...and kind of hilarious. This interactivity really immerses the reader in the work in a way that none of the others (with the exception, perhaps, of 88 Constellations) have, and as such serves as a good model for our own work.

And now, I have an uncanny moment to share: I read page 34, which was one of the various definitions for "deformity." At the end of the page, the route I chose instructed me to write a number on my hand between 1-250 and go to that page. I randomly picked 73 (and yes, I really did write it on my hand) and flipped to that page. It was another definition of "deformity." Well, a mirror image of it. For a second, I thought it was the mirror image of the exact page I just left, which would've been even creepier. Regardless, the doubling completely threw me off for a moment, but when I realized what had happened, I was pretty excited about it.

Deformity

I love deformation. There's beauty in the grotesque, the changing, the removal of the norm. And this book is all about that. Instructions, exhibits, and pieces all seem removed from one another as the piece goes crazier and crazier as I read deeper and deeper.

So, reading this made me think about deformity in collage; not just "marking up" pieces, but taking a page of work and turning it into something else; an accordion, origami, or a paper doll.

The question now I have in my mind is how does this affect the reader and interpretation of the text when you invite your reader to destroy the text? Billy Corrigan, the Smartest Boy on Earth offered readers to cut out the book and make models (but I never did because I paid damn good money, and it would destroy the other panels of the work).

Layers Upon Layers

So, basically, Galerie de Difformité took everything we’ve looked at so far this semester and compiled it into one book. She has elements of the uncanny—repetition of monster, deformity, things like that—and she strategically allows the reader to choose whether or not they want to continue with that theme oftentimes. Another thing we’ve seen before that Henderson does is the incorporation of and allusions to other works. I think at one point she referenced Medea, Socrates; she draws from different places and incorporates it in such a way that you notice it but it’s not distracting. She displays the form of highlighting words, like circling them, in a text; overlaying text and images—she literally brings together everything we have seen so far and it is absolutely incredible and mind-blowing. She even introduces us to something new and innovative when she includes the little boxes that smartphones can scan which add a new layer. Since I don’t have the app for it I can’t find out what it does, but I am certainly curious.

Undoubtedly, the book is engaging. Not only in the way that it is interesting because you get to choose what you do, but because there are even pages were you are forced to face yourself. Whether or not you choose to be honest about it is completely up to you, but she still gives you that option and I find that fascinating and truly creative. I don’t want to say exactly which part I’m talking about so that no one goes looking for it and ruins it, but if someone is curious and hasn’t gotten to where I’m talking about, I’d be glad to share. 

I’ll be honest. I was bad. The first page that tells you to choose a destination, I ignored and read onto the next page out of rebellion and curiosity… and then I was scorned and warned. I found that highly amusing. 

Skin and Documents

So, I have an idea. I think we should participate in the Skin project. Even though I have a good amount of fear--mainly getting a really shitty word (I would not want to spend the rest of my life as an "Is") but why not become living, breathing pieces of a piece?

Back to Humument.

So, earlier today I was in the English office talking to Alyssa and Heather as they looked up more pieces of the Hummument. And suddenly I came to a realization: the artwork of the pages is referenced in the text of the pages (usually an important buzz word, like Beach).

My mind was blown. Completely.

It is the marriage of text and art, by making the text art.

More Technique, I think, maybe?

One of the pages that really stuck out to me for today's section of A Humument was page 104. I think it blended a lot of different elements and at the same time made it a little vague as to what parts were being highlighted as much as others because some were kind of circled, but not really, but a little bit, etc. It used a smattering of colors as well as circling words and cross-hatching pen marks (or whatever it is he used). 

In general, I found the second half more interesting because I noticed a bit of an emergence of more/different styles. It could have been that I just didn’t get as far as I would have liked on Monday, but I saw a lot more today. Pages 207 and 208 were especially intriguing. 208 used a lot of blending and that was different because it blurred out the background to signify and emphasize the important words, but not so harshly as the rest of the pages.

Still, I liked that he kept creating images in many of the pages. It gives and added depth because not only is he taking away from the text by depleting the words, but he is adding to it by giving more meaning and applying visuals. 

beautiful last random fragments of poetry

In this second half, I did begin to notice some repetition that made the work as a whole seem more cohesive, rather than a random stringing together of pages. There were several settings that came up more than once, such as the beach (pages 234, 236, 239, and probably others) and the garden (I don't remember the pages, but I'm pretty sure the scene was brought up multiple times). Also there is the recurring image of the moth, found on page 232-233, among others. And of course, the same characters keep showing up, particularly our old friend toge. These elements serve to unify the piece in a way that the text itself does not, since it is rarely consistent from one page to the next. It's an interesting idea to work with in our own collages, merging both a sense of randomness with a kind of consistency.

But along with these connections, there were other pages that broke down into the nonsensical, such as pages 201, 237, and 282. Here, the collager (yes, it is now a word) cuts up the words in such a way that they are mere gibberish, or strings words together letter by letter, creating an even more fragmented effect. I'm not sure what they "meant" (silly me, looking for meaning), but I thought they were interesting, and there was certainly something disconcerting about the fact that we can't even make sense of the words themselves anymore on these particular pages; some words are partially recognizable, but we can't quite grasp what they're trying to say.

I'll post on time when I finish my CE credits

So, i'm reminded a lot of our discussion of White Shadows in that in Humument, there is evidence of the "underwords" against the "overwords" and this time, there is no semblance of censorship, but instead a focus on pasting one piece on top of another.

Humument reminded me of the word "collage" more than any other piece we have read this semester, mainly because it embodies the stereotypical "collage" form, pasting pieces of things-in this case, other texts, against, beside and on top of one another to say something.

I must say, page 2 is my favorite page, due to the disregard for the format of the page with the three pieces of text; and the work seems more cohesive than other texts as well. (I was not going to spend $6.99 to purchase the text on the iPad store, however. The phrase "cheap bastard" comes to mind with me and stuff like that.)

Oh the Colors!

Well, I think visually this piece is pretty awesome. The author did an amazing job creating a flow of words--not just the words themselves but literally how they flow on the page. I liked that some pages seemed to pool and coagulate while others were a heavy stream down the page. They really grab the eye and lead the reader where to go along the page. (At some points, the author has white lines attaching certain collections of words, which helps keep the hectic pages really organized. I really liked that.) I also really loved the colors. They seemed water-colored, each hue blurring into the next. It's fantastic. The most gripping pages to me corresponded to some of the most colorful ones. I liked that they were bright and gripping and forced the reader to pay attention to them. You could see them coming up on the queue while reading and it got me really excited.

The only downside of this project was that some pages just didn't seem to have a point, purpose, or interest to me. But I guess that's to be expected in such a large work.

children die of the Imagination

I'm with Rachel on this one. Some of the pages were so fascinating, particularly those in which there was (as already mentioned) coherence between text and image/color, such as on page 8, which was one of my favorites: the broken image of the hat representing "reason under a ruined hat," and the lower half of the page being the flag of England, which is also brought up in the text. It all worked together for a really strong effect, and I think it's a good example of yet another way in which we can use visual elements to add layers of meaning in our own collages. Another aspect that I found very useful in the piece as a whole was the way in which the pages oftentimes guided us through the reading by visually connecting the boxed or bubbled text to other text on the page. I thought it was a really clever way to keep us reading in the right directions, giving us clues as to which pieces of text were supposed to be read together--another helpful tool that we could easily steal for our own work.

However, as Rachel stated, there were other pages that simply seemed random to me, and created no kind of strong impression whatsoever. But that may just be personal preference. I also was uncertain as to whether we should treat each page as an individual, or whether each page was supposed to be connected to the one before and after. I skimmed over the introduction on the website (is that cheating?), and it seems like there's supposed to be some kind of narrative, but it is all very ambiguous to me at this point. Not that that's anything new...

Visuals

Overall, my first impressions of "A Humument" were the distinct and visual ways the technique of the piece stood out. Everything looked so careful and deliberate, and I liked the differences that distinguished the way the separate pages were crafted. I thought page 5 was really cool, for instance, because of the way the intended text stood out against the bright cut-up page that seems to so clearly cover the original. For some reason I really admire the pages with color and the ones that seem to hold more 'layers' and detail like page 9, but then there are certain pages like 38 where the idea of covering up the other text is so simple but so effective (and then, of course, pages like 93. So cool.) I also think the way that Phillips chose what words to include and when must've been extremely tedious, but I can't say that I wouldn't enjoy trying to make an entire work out of something like this. Yeah, it's a lot to take in at once and the medium might be a little weird, but I think it's evident that Phillips really tried to make something meaningful out of this work, not only with the words and the work he used, but taking the time to create the visuals behind the text as well.

So Much to Take In

I wish there was a next button to make it easier to navigate instead of having to go back and forth, (unless I missed something and there was?).

One thing that I noticed is that many of the designs mimicked the words that the author highlighted. Like on page two it became a kind of a womanly shape. Page 27 uses a photograph/portrait as the backdrop when talking about an old English lover. I thought it was an interesting technique. In some of them, I can still distinguish some of the other words, but I didn’t want to try to read them because I felt like it would take away from the effect, which is strange for me because that is something I usually tend to do--decipher as much as I can.

I thought that using so many varied techniques could be a little distracting at times. It certainly made it more interesting, but it made me wonder what it would have been like with a little bit more consistency and how that would have changed it because there were some pages that didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason. It may have been easier to take in if I didn’t have to go back and forth and could have gone through them all more seamlessly, too.

The use of texture, like we talked about, was interesting to look at to see how I would be able to apply it even visually with dotting, streaking, playing with colors, and those kinds of things to get different effects.

Some of the pages helped me get some ideas, but others seemed to be random. I just wondered if the author had some sort of plan entirely, or if it was selective; basically how it was all put together since they are all so different. 

In which I try not to call him Hawkeye

It's a goddamn spiral. Or maybe it's a circle. Or one of those magic eye things that isn't really moving but the lines in black and white and your gaze slowly getting hazy makes it appear as if there's some movement in the picture.

So first: OH DEAR GOD THE FORMATTING. Who in their right mind makes text that small and so close together? Maybe this is where the magic eye example comes into play. It almost seems taxing, trying to read it close with my withered, squinty eyes that are already puffed up from the pollen in the air.

Second: THE REPETITION. Yes, we've all touched on it, but that's the important part in the piece. The important part. The piece is the important part. Here we go again.

Third: The nature of it all; this isn't just apiece about art. This isn't just a piece about writing. This isn't a piece just about David Levine. It's about information, and the repetition of that information in a slightly askewed way. It's not just a carbon copy. hello.

Forth: The narrative is aware of itself that it is a narrative that is aware of itself.

Goddamn it, I don't know how to explicate that fact any more than I can.

Sorry it's so late. Had a final tonight from 6-8. Then got home and took medication. Then forced myself to read the piece and to fall deep into the Vertigo that is it.

It's completely genius.

That's why it'll never sell.

Now I'll Have to Get a New One

The Hawkey piece I found particularly interesting. Even though it was incredibly repetitive, I kept wanting to read because I was wondering how he was going to use the same elements over and over again in different ways to keep the reader interested and moving along. Ironically, he repeated the like “repetition equals depersonalization” several times. If I had the ambition and motivation to, I would like to go through and see how many individual words he actually uses just to compare it to how long the whole piece is, that was I could see how impressive it is how he can use the same words again and again to create different meanings. I noticed that as the piece progressed, he started introducing new ideas, but integrating them into already developed and recognizable phrases and sentences.

A Little White Shadow is fun to look at because it shows taking something and completely altering it. Honestly, when I got it in the mail over break before this semester started and I was looking through it, I was like “Wtf? Someone whited out half of the book, now I have to get a new one.” Seriously, I didn’t get it. Now I feel like an idiot.

Both pieces are strange, but in different ways. They interesting concepts to work with because they crop words and displace them, changing meanings and I think that would be fun (but perhaps difficult) for me to try to do.

Not a person speaking

The piece we'll be talking about this week has a double impact, not only on a purely aesthetic and collage level, but also as a meta-work incorporating the concept of another piece and the social commentary it delivers. The collection of actors' headshots is deeply personal, each snippet reveals part of a person, but as the poem analyses correctly, those parts are intrinsically similar as all those people compete for a portion of the same - incredibly small - cake. The repetition does not only depersonalize the whole text, it also difuses the focus of the reader along with the 'graphically unfriendly' block type that enhances the notion.
It is very difficult to concentrate on the text, especially the lower part of a page, yet it's not easy to miss an important theme since repetition on the other hand ensures that thoses themes are distributed in a way that makes them stand out from the run-on quality of the text - birth, appearance, materialism, a need for social and professional connections being only some of these themes. The text seems abstract and choppy on the surface due to the broken sentences and the unexpected turns from one topic to the next, but digging deeper one finds an intricate commentary on the dynamics of the fine arts. Ultimately though, it's a stereotype that's carved out of the collage narrative.

head first, into the light

hello. i am writing to inform you of what i am currently doing. blog posts begin on computers. this is a blog post. as a post. as a blog. a blog that begins with a word. christian hawkey's piece was really cool. it inspired this blog post. heavily. i believe it has a very marketable look. we must not forget the persistence of collage. hello. hawkey seems to have had something pretty awesome going for him with this work. repetition equals depersonalization... or does it. i think the use of repetition in "i am writing to inform you..." is effective, especially for this type of collage. please keep this in mind. without this technology i wouldn't be facing you. hello.

But seriously, I'm with Alyssa on this one. I really liked this piece for the constant, though sometimes annoying, use of repetition. I think with that (and the sources hawkey drew off of) is a really interesting way of approaching collage in general, and for this piece the repetition and such gives it a really ethereal feel, which, now that I think about it, kind of feels like depersonalization. I love how dizzying it is and how sometimes my eyes would get confused and move down one line too far, which also made for interesting reading.

tell me your ear is pressed against the door. this has been a blog post. made of words. hello. and don't forget about the persistence of nostril hair.

repetition

Well, I'll start by agreeing with Alyssa. "i am writing.." made me dizzy as well. I can't really say that I enjoyed that one, or even understood it, but I can say that there were many interesting things within the text. One bit that I thought was sort of profound but also frightening (if we agree with it) was the statement "Repetition equals depersonalization." Oh my. One of the crafts of the uncanny and collage it seems is repetition, so can it really be a form depersonalization? Sure, repeating things over and over can make something lose it's meaning, so it's more like a ritual than having any meaning... But perhaps where the craft comes in is finding ways in which the repetition can coax new meaning out of the same phrase, over and over. And it's interesting that something that utilizes repetition so much would make a comment on repetition. But I do think that if anything, this piece shows how repetition can bring multiple interpretations.

Also, for me, the most powerful page of A Little White Shadow was page 13: "Other people read sonnets but my cousin Suvia never cared for blood. And in this as in most things I agreed with her." I just loved this page. I thought the connection between blood and poetry, blood and art, blood and craft--that was really poignant. I thought this really showed how well the black out (or white out) method can bring new interpretations and layers to everyday words, not just to a text.

a gate is a door without a room.

"i am writing to inform you of what i am currently doing" made me dizzy. But I loved it. The constant repetition, the myriad voices piling and mixing and merging together, the irony of certain phrases ("write it in your own words so that it sounds like you"), the fascinating (if occasionally nonsensical) juxtaposition of others ("birth is generally considered a declarative sentence. a name attached to an idea, screaming."), the mechanical quality of the short, declarative sentences--all these elements work together in this piece to create a strong emotional impact. One of my favorite moments during my reading occurred on page 19, when my eyes once again passed over the often-repeated phrase "repetition equals depersonalization." This particular time, however, the word was broken up, so I only saw "repetition equals deperson-," which my brain misread as "repetition equals desperation." Which was completely accidental, but fit perfectly with the desperate tone of this piece established by the recurrence of phrases like "you just missed it" and "do you think this looks like i'm trying too hard."

"A Little White Shadow" was obviously much less overwhelming, but equally interesting. Instead of an overload of information, we are given just a tiny portion of it, giving it a feeling of secrecy, like a riddle that we can't quite grasp. As in the previous piece, there were many interesting juxtapositions of words, images, and ideas, such as "It was my duty to keep the piano filled with roses" (page 10) and "my ignorance was a refining influence," (page 20).

These two techniques, overload and reduction, produce vastly different effects, both of which can be useful to incorporate in our own work, drawing from each as it suits the specific tone/emotion/effect we are attempting to create.

Connect 88

Dude, 88 Constellations was so awesome. I, for one, being the weirdo (and the Gemini!) that I am, loved the creepy twin image and all the other creepy weird stuff that was going on with this work. The first constellation I clicked on was the one about suicides, and I knew from then on that the whole thing was bound to be an adventure. I really liked how everything was set up and the way that each of the audio bits for the constellations was full of cool facts about all this seemingly random stuff that not a lot of people probably know. I knew about Chaplin's work for The Great Dictator, but I didn't know he was pissed at Hitler for having 'stolen' his mustache. Ha. I mainly went through just clicking on random constellations, sometimes  picking certain ones to listen to first based on their names or what the subtitles were. I loved how interactive the whole thing was and how all of the subtlety and the symbolism meshed together to create something so complex and yet so simple in a lot of ways, because for us as the audience we just have to click, sit back, and listen... and probably be influenced in some way. I know I certainly was. This type of collage serves to really make you think, or at least to present something that made others think. The connections, as others have said before, are endless and may seem a bit sporadic, but I think it would be so much fun to try and create something like this, no matter how much time it may take to put it all together and try to figure out some sort of cohesive 'order'. It's kind of mysterious, in a way, and I think that adds to the elements of the uncanny that were so heavy in the piece. Cool. Now, can we do something like this?

Follow the Dots

I really liked the layout of 88 Constellations. I liked that you could start with Gemini--watching a creepy image of twins flicker on the screen (which was not okay, I'm just gonna throw that out there)--and somehow get all the way to Hitler. (And from there some simpler connections: Charlie Chaplin, Globe, etc.) I also liked that depending on where you started, your perception of the purpose of 88 Constellations would change.

For instance, I didn't really understand that this whole project had to do with the L-guy until I started over. Way cool.

I thought this was an interesting way to interpret the whole collage/uncanny thing. Being able to span topics with only loose connections seems overwhelming. Like everything's connected, in this strange, creepy way. (Again, twins. Why?)

The loose associations were the highlight of this for me. I feel like you could spend hours trolling the hypertext and learn so much random junk. It must have taken forever to put together. (I also liked the idea of free flowing thought as a narrative form. I think it would work well within the context of a collage, but would be hard to pull off in like a cut-up or something. But it might be a venture worth undertaking.)

Constellations of Culture

I just have to say: "Beethoven" (under the constellation "Hydrus") was so cool! Not that I'm biased as a music minor or anything (though "John Cage," "Piano," and "4'33"" were awesome, as well). But the wordplay was really fantastic. Other favorites: "Mystical," "Infinity," "Constellations," "Cassiopeia," and "Private Language."

There were definitely elements of the uncanny in many of the constellations, such as in "Silence." The narrator's various interpretations of silence, coupled with the creepy images of the man, created a sense of paranoia--what does this man's silence mean? Why won't he speak? Rather than coming out and giving us disturbing information about the man, the narrator simply suggested possibilities, leaving our imaginations to take off from there. So naturally, my brain quickly determined that he was most likely a psychopathic serial killer. Another example occurred in "Tribute of Light," when the narrator juxtaposed a tribute to the Twin Towers with a lighted stage for Hitler, bringing to the forefront this idea that what we consider "good" (in this case, light) can just as easily be used for evil. There are also tons of instances of the double, including those found in "Psycho," "Gemini," and "Doubles." Also, "Sky," in its contemplation of dreams and associations, very much reminded me of surrealism.

Basically, this hypertext contains just about everything we've talked about this semester: collage, the uncanny, the subconscious, fragments that, while not entirely cohesive, work together as an emotionally-stimulating whole, the power of suggestion, taking something and turning it on its head, and mixing different mediums. Have I missed anything? And, as Rachel mentioned, the fact that we as the audience directly interact with it, choosing which path to take, adds yet another layer to the work. In other words, tons of stuff we can apply to our own work this semester.

From Ursa Minor to Hercules and deeper

What the hell is up with all of the space travel i've been doing recently this month? Ok, let's drop that thought for a moment. I am not going to even try to say that i've watched all 88 videos; because that would be insane. But the recurrent themes: video, doubling, pop culture; it's a cacophony of imagery and symbolism; it's a credit to the theme of symbology.

Navigating at first seemed simple, I chose a constellation, would watch a video, and would return to the constellation menu. Then, I realized I could click on the constellation map and journey to the specific stars inside of the constellation, going deeper into this world and deeper into the videos.

I gave up after four constellations led me to the deeper cuts from what is music and the life (and suicide) of Alan Turing and I was led all the way to Chaplin, Hitler, American consumerism and the history of the dollar sign.

What it seems to me is that the "deeper" you go into the videos, the more the lines between them blur and suddenly we are inside of a world of poetry, music, film and conspiracy. There's a great conspiratory tone to the whole hypertext, and I really enjoyed it.

I'm not going to make my workshop a hypertext story. (I've already done that. I made it about Slender Man. Too much deja vu for one day)

Join the Dots

I absolutely loved The 88 Constellations of Wittgenstein; it was so fascinating. For one thing, it continued with the broken up nature of what we have been reading lately, which is something I just realized, since it’s segmented into, obviously, the different constellations, and you can choose which ones you go to and in what order. 

More importantly, the stimulation of all the different aspects of each constellation was so interesting. Some of them were even interactive, (Pisces, for example), which made it that much cooler because you can be a part of it. I think that the way all of the information and material is presented makes it a lot easier to take in and manage because we are given visual representations to go along with what the narrator is saying. With this in mind, we are able to follow along and listen as well as watch what is happening without getting lost in the mix.

Some of the constellations were jarring and creepy the way that the author juxtaposed the elements of sound and image. Using this medium allows the author to play up which aspects need (or want) more emphasis. My favorite was Aquila (Psycho). It incorporated movement, sound, and images, elevating the creepiness and interest that I think it was trying to evoke.

Being able to use all of these things at once makes it so that we can see the interrelationships between things better, especially between the different constellations (the coffee cup image presented itself several times, the elephant/rhinoceros, etc.). I can't imagine how long it would take to gather all of the parts and then put it all together. If I could figure it all out (but I am inept with technology and computer-y stuff) and had the patience, it would be something really amazing to try to do because it achieves something that other collages and stories simply cannot. 

With in the Heart of the Heart of the Country, there's a big focus on "pieces" like in DeBriefing. Each section has a focal point; which reminded me a lot of Debriefing (like everyone else has mentioned). In Heart of however, the focus in on place rather than characters (like the million Dorrises of the previous work).

So, thinking about this piece, I just started contemplating the next workshop and how these pieces we've read come into play. There's a method to the madness (even if the method is plain insanity). There's structure in the pieces; either in the jumps or in the "headings" and both Heart and Paraguay employ.

Of course, I know there's a hell of a lot more to read before our second workshops, but the wheels are turning in my head now. Or, maybe they're grinding against wanting to come up with some algorithm for this (and I really, really suck at math)

In the Heart of...Paraguay?

The thing that I noticed first while reading the two stories is that they are both kind of abstract and digress. They don’t clearly develop a straightforward plot or storyline that is so easily followed. Also, obviously, they both take advantage of the use of headings. However, compared to “Debriefing,” they don’t lead us anywhere but are more instructive, as they tell us generally what that section is going to be explaining about the place.

There is a lot of ambiguity and uncertainty that I noticed in “Paraguay.” The story will be going along and then all of a sudden something random, some sort of abstraction will just appear. Not necessarily irrelevant, but something less apparent. Nothing particularly “spectacular” happened, that I noticed. It just kind of trotted along, detailing observations. I was interested in the regular intrusion of parenthetical statements which often questioned or contradicted the statement that they were interrupting. I thought it was an odd technique that made me question its function and how it added or maybe even detracted from the story.

“In the Heart of the Heart of the Country” was similarly vague sometimes, with some sections just rattling off lists of potentially little significance to the reader. One thing I noticed that also caught my attention was the fact that it jumped from section to section and between ideas very rapidly and seemingly randomly. I’m sure there was some “algorithm” (ha) for it, but was always skipping about between arbitrary thoughts that sometimes didn’t even push the plot further. In reality, there wasn’t really a stable plot, nothing steady to grip onto, probably due to the nature of the constant jumpiness, which was kind of disconcerting at times, but could be an interesting concept to work with--throwing the reader off and deliberately making them uncomfortable. 

People & Places

"In the Heart of the Heart of the Country" actually reminded me of "Debriefing," only it portrayed the people and atmosphere of the country rather than the city--though it did so in a way that was equally jaded and unflattering. Like "Debriefing," the style of this piece reflected its subject; even though we still jumped from scene to scene, the pace seemed slower and more methodical, with lingering descriptions that give us a sense of where we are. The narrator also seems to ramble a lot. He offers plenty of information, but little direction. The headings work in a similar manner. They act as good markers of where we are, but aren't very useful in determining its relation to the rest of the work, and there is certainly no indication of where we are going. Still, all the scenes come together to give a strong portrait of the community, though the narrator's attitude towards it remains ambiguous to me. As for "Paraguay," it seems to be even more obscure in its depiction of place and people. Again, the headings provide a hint to what each section centers around, but they oftentimes weren't particularly helpful. Nevertheless, these two texts succeed in piecing together scenes to create, not a cohesive plot, but a picture, in a sense, of a place, the people who inhabit it, and the person who is telling us about it. And it is this quality that I think would be most interesting to experiment with in my own work.

Let's do the timewarp again!

The sudden jumps and time changes, character changes in the babysitter left me feeling a bit dizzy at the end of it all. It felt like there were four or five different stories all going on, and then they were just cut up and placed in random order for the hell of it. Really, part of the challenge is figuring out the time and place of each "piece" even if it matters or doesn't.

It reminded me of the non-importance of plot in a piece like this. I mean, it's not that plot isn't "important" it's just that it takes a back seat to the creation process. It's a scary, complex thing anyways, and the blur between what's going on and what's just fantasied seems to be getting fuzzier and fuzzier as we venture down this rabbit hole we call 471.

As long as no pills are being handed out, I think i'm good. I'd rather not be in the matrix for a writing class.

Oops, almost forgot: The Babysitter

So, this piece was definitely some weird shit. I really liked the time warp feeling. I liked that it blurred reality and fantasy. Being unable to put the timeline together or tell what was really happening in the piece gave my reading a strange tone. I mean, I'm still not sure what of the story was actually real. I think the time aspect was definitely my favorite. I'm not sure if this was a cut up, but if it is, it's friggin brilliant. I think some of the aspects of time and reality can be used in our own collages. It would be interesting, especially with the different narratives that can be found in various works, and then blending those together to create a somewhat cohesive and coherent narrative.

I think that is something to take away from The Babysitter.

Say we are all asleep. Do we want to wake up?

At first, the abrupt style of "Debriefing" disconcerted me, but as I was drawn deeper into the work, I came to love it. The short, emotionally charged phrases ("I want to save my soul, that timid wind.") countered by the vivid scenes were very powerful, even if their actual "meaning" was ambiguous. The various headings were helpful in providing an anchor to keep the reader grounded in what the work was trying to do, markers that made me pause and consider the text as a whole right when I was on the brink of getting lost in the midst of all the people and places. Yet I thought this congestion of words, particularly  the referencing of name after name after name, worked really well in creating a fast-paced, city-like atmosphere that was a bit overwhelming and easy to get lost in, reflecting the content of the story nicely. I think what I really took away from this story was how powerful it can be to allow interruptions in a narrative--although the reader might be thrown off in the moment, the work as a whole can be strengthened by the jarring effect it creates. "The Babysitter" was similar in this aspect; it also showed the value of contradictions in narrative, which was similarly confusing and disconcerting for the reader. Overall, rather than doing away with narrative altogether as some of the works we've studied this semester have, these two pieces offer ways of complicating narrative that can be used to challenge both the reader's thoughts and emotions.

Segment and Flow?

I liked the way that the stories were segmented; it brought in a new style.

I really enjoyed reading “Debriefing.” Not only was it separated by the subheadings, but within that it was very disjointed. Each paragraph or sentence underneath the heading seemed to me kind of list-y, in a way, because it always related back to the title of that section in some way. Particularly in “What Is Upsetting,” each paragraph starts with “to (blank)” and then goes on to say something that would be upsetting to the narrator and I found that interesting. It was obviously segmented, but still coherent with a clear plot that unfolded nicely over the course of the story.

After finding out how the story ends and going back over each heading, it is intriguing to see the way each was titled and how that relates to the overall theme and plot, and that makes me think of why Sontag may have chosen them and from where they came. This technique is something that I think would be fun to experiment with just to see where I could go with it. I’m not sure if it would be easier or harder. Some of the paragraphs are clearly related and directly drive the plot forward, but others are more stream of consciousness, abstract kind of thoughts that could be irrelevant if wrongly placed, so I think it would take a lot of care and thought to make it make sense. 

Don't Tell Mom The Babysitter's Dead...

I wasn't really surprised by how much I liked both of these pieces, but I was surprised coming away from them... especially when I had to read through "The Babysitter" more than once just to figure out what was going on and how everything fit together. Despite how confused I felt after I read through the piece the first time, I understood what Coover was doing and I think it's a very interesting method to explore because it makes reading the work more challenging, despite how awkward it was to figure out how things worked in the beginning. I think this type of piece is really cool because of the mashed up, mixed up points of view that are scattered throughout and don't  seem to (or do they?) go in any sort of particular order. The only sense of direction for the story that we get are these little bits of narrative, which is really fun. These little 'scenes' give up the progression for the story itself, and sometimes it feels a little chaotic, but it's intriguing because of the sexual tension expressed by the different characters' POVs. I have to say that the ending really got me-- I didn't see it coming and I definitely wasn't sure how to untangle what was going on there... but I do find myself wanting to read more of Robert Coover's work after reading this!

Disintegration

Both pieces of this weeks reading have a fascinating characteristic in common - the disintegration of narrative. For 'debriefing' it's the seemingly coherent - if a bit spotty and non-sequitur - flow of information that gets more and more convoluted as the story goes on, causing intentional confusion with the strands that revolve around a different 'Doris' three times yet all have a connection at some point in the story. For the 'babysitter' it's the half dozen different versions of the same relatively short timespan that get increasingly tangled up through the constant jumps of POV and point in time and the continuous paradox developing between them, signalling the reader that at least half of them need to be fantasies or happening in a different place at the same time (as seems indicated by the conclusion, it's striking however, that even with a careful piecing together of all the different strands in their own chronological order the pieces still don't match up completely).
Both stories make use of purposeful misdirection by giving different protagonists the same name or indeed not assigning a name at all (both the victim/temptress in 'the babysitter' and the narrator of debriefing remain nameless and therefore anonymous, the latter even subject to gender ambiguity) . Both of them also ultimately acknowledge the stylistic character of being 'pieced together' even though they introduce and conclude and overarching plotline.
For that reason they both remain fascinating and also inaccessible to a point.

Self Reflective Essay

Collage. In the beginning I questioned what exactly we could do with a collage, and suddenly I was swamped with a billion very different forms of collage, which I watched, mouth agape, at how they could craft very original and shocking narratives.

I had no idea how I would do it. I love surrealism, I love horror, and I love large, famous fictions, so I decided to combine the three for my Mythos workshop. I took a surrealistic way about it; I changed nothing that I added to the collage (which ended up biting me in the ass, haha) and I made sure to keep my work as creepy and unnerving as possible.

I felt that I met that second goal, since I caused some people to be afraid of my work (and one to curse me; thank you Rachel!) so I am not disappointed in what I have done thus far; i'm quite proud of it!

One thing that caught me off-guard was Mejia telling me that I am a good collage fiction writer; I am one who loves compliments, but it frightened me because I worry that if I already show skill, then I have a million more chances to screw up in front of everyone (and everyone knows how narcissistic I am) so I have been even more on guard and will be for this next half of the semester.

I feel like my work is improving even more than it ever has before. I actually feel like a writer now instead of a student attempting to create a piece of fiction.

Self-Reflective Post No. 1

Well for one thing, I’ve had the same trouble as Jess as far as attaching myself to some sort of clear narrative. No one can deny that. And I really wanted to hide the seams as best as possible in anything I did and I think that was all because of the first actual collage “story” we read, “Always Crashing in the Same Car,” where I was desperately searching for where things were spliced together. But for the workshop I tried to let that go and be more open to letting people see that things are coming from different places but allowing it to work anyway. I think it will be much, much more difficult for me to let go of some semblance of a coherent storyline. We’ll see.

As for the readings we’ve done, they’ve just had so much packed into them that it is hard to grasp all that they are saying at once sometimes. I try to find a couple things that resonate with me and think more about those than try to fully understand absolutely everything that was said because I feel like that would be way too painful for me…but I could just be an idiot. Or lazy. Maybe both. Regardless, I always try to find something that interests me about the article, or whatever it is, and let it simmer for a little while. However, I have recognized that sometimes with the things that do really fascinate me, I forget to relate it back to the class, which I’ll try to be more aware of since that is the whole point of reading it. 

Self-Reflective Awesomeness Pt. 1

Okay, so... thinking back on all the works we've read and the stuff we've done so far this semester... I'd have to say that this kind of work is awesome and I'm glad we all just seem to be kind of winging it, because really... how are we supposed to judge these collages? What are we supposed to base their content on? And honestly I really do like that we're using collages to explore the medium and find new ways to make new stuff.

So, to comment on my own...self... so far... I think I really strove to engage with what was going on in all of the things we've read and tried to apply them specifically to my own work in some way, whether it be in theme or in meaning, but I also tend to think like Alyssa and feel that I sometimes avoid looking at the big picture and instead try to focus on the specifics. Which isn't bad, of course, but looking back I know now that I want to try and apply the "big picture" stuff to the works more often. I'm really looking forward to and excited about what the last half of the semester is going to bring and all the superfun collage-y stuff we can do!

Self-Reflective Post

So far... let's see... so far this class has been pretty inspiring. I really like having to think of things outside the box. I REALLY like combining visual components into my work, and I've discovered that I have an odd love for odd text layouts. Which is pretty cool, I think. One thing I'm not sure about is that I have this attachment to narration. I've noticed that each of my projects so far has been some form of a story and that I have a hard time thinking about things in terms of searching out a concept or something. At least once, I think, I'll try and do something like that--delving into a concept versus telling a story. But I think narration is something I'm comfortable with.

It's definitely something to play with through this class, seeing what works for me and what doesn't.

Self-Reflective Post #1

Dang, I was really hoping not to go first. So, let's see. I've been trying my best throughout the semester to think critically about all the work we've read/viewed and respond to it in some semi-intelligent form. In general, I've attempted to find at least one aspect that intrigued me about the work, and one aspect that I disagreed with that I could delve into in more depth. There have been some occasions when I've fallen into the trap of just describing what I like or don't like about a piece, which the syllabus says to avoid, rather than exploring more deeply how it relates to the class as a whole. I spend so much time trying to "figure out" the work, or at the very least, figure out my emotional response to it, that I neglect to look at the bigger picture. Which isn't good, since I may be missing opportunities to incorporate different attributes that we have looked at into my own work. I will try to be more aware of this in future posts, however. Until then, have a great Spring Break, everyone!

Broadening Perspectives

I, too, was most intrigued by the interview with Burroughs. He seems like he would have been a really cool guy to sit down and talk to because he had some really innovative ideas. I liked his concept of his scrapbook and how he would take newspaper clippings or write things down, and then when he saw something in real life that reminded him of a scene, he would take a picture and then put it down next to it in the scrapbook -- that is the real cut-up, I think, because it is taking the real, actual life, something totally separated from his world from his mind, and bringing them together.
On page 4, he says, "Cut-ups establish new connections between images, and one's range of vision consequently expands." This line particularly resonated with me because that is the sense of what I think we have been trying to do all along--take totally, or at least seemingly, unrelated things and find a way to string them together to create something new that people can appreciate, (or we can on our own). He says that the range of vision expands, and I think that it's important how he points that out, because the fact that we are doing these things and bringing different pieces together really does broaden our potential or outlooks as writers...perspectives, maybe? I'm really not sure exactly how to phrase what I'm thinking. My point is that by doing what we're doing with collage, or what he was doing with his "cut-up" method, we are giving ourselves the opportunity to see things in a new way.

Close Encounters of the Third Mind?

I really liked the interview section with Burroughs. I felt like he was high the entire time. Some of the concepts he talked about, the expanding beyond oneself and encompassing the universe and stuff, I have no idea what any of that means, but it sounded cool. One aspect that I thought really worked, was Burroughs' exploration (very short) of dreams. It's interesting to think how the mind creates dreams. Some people think that dreams are simply the brain trying to make sense of misfiring neurons. Wouldn't it be interesting then to try a replicate the loose logic of a dream? I also liked the idea of breaking past words in order to use images, to communicate with said images, as a more pure form of "speech."

Burroughs is Awesome!

"Try this: Carefully memorize the meaning of out the words' making any sound whatever in the mind's ear. Extraordinary experience, and one that will carry over into dreams. When you start thinking in images, without words, you're well on the way."

I was really interested in Burroughs' The Third Mind and the concept of the cut-up method, because, as I've mentioned before, ever since we started experimenting with collage, I can't stop thinking of new ways to mash-up and remix and think in collage. I really liked the beginning of the interview where Burroughs was asked about what the cut-up offers readers that typical conventional narratives don't. I really liked that Burroughs said, "Cut-ups establish new connections between images, and one's range of vision consequently expands." I like to think that every collage I've done so far (at least with images, that is) has indeed expanded the overall view of the collage itself because of the connections between them to make a new narrative that obviously wouldn't have been there if I (or another author) hadn't juxtaposed those images.

"That's my principle message to writers: For Godsake, keep your eyes open. Notice what's going on around you."

--I also thought this message was really cool for cut-ups and stuff. If we just observe, we might get some pretty amazing ideas for works!

Internal & External

Although many of the concepts in The Third Mind are ideas we have previously discussed in the context of collage, there were several points that caught my attention.

On page 2 of the interview, Burroughs says, "What I want to do is to learn to see more of what's out there, to look outside, to achieve as far as possible a complete awareness of surroundings." I found this statement to be very interesting, because over time, as writing developed and began to rival orality as the primary form of communication in our culture (which I'm actually only aware of because we've been discussing it in my Western Literary Traditions class), it became more and more about the internal world rather than the external one. So the fact that there is now a trend pushing in the opposite direction is intriguing, as well as helpful in understanding exactly what we are (possibly) trying to "do" with collage-writing.

Burroughs further complicates this idea on page 5, however: "That's cut-up--a juxtaposition of what's happening outside and what you're thinking of." Here, it seems that cut-up is more than just a representation of the outer world, but a clash between the inner and outer worlds. Which is even more exciting, really. And makes sense in regards to collage--we are choosing to put together pieces of the outer world based on our own inner thoughts or impulses.

I didn't realize that I had that much to say (write, rather; isn't it amazing how easily we exchange the two words?) on the subject, but now that I've gone and written it, I suppose I'll wrap it up by saying (writing!) that I liked the way Burroughs ended the interview--maybe just because it gives assurance that, cut-up or no, the author is alive and well.  

Defying expectations

Une semaine de bonte certainly DOES do everything but meet the expectations of an unsuspecting reader (or should I say spectator, since that feels a lot more acurate in this case) it even inverts the expectations that the spectator adapts to after having worked through a couple of chapters. There are themes and repetitions, even ones that show up inside the images as images - as a kind of subversive meta dialogue on the non-existing narrative - but once the reader has established a rapport with those themes and hints, they taper off into something that is completely slippery and ungraspable.
I agree with the fact that this work is obviously not designed to 'tell a story' as it were, to support a narrative, on the contrary it fights tooth and nail against any kind of continuous interpretation while the grouping and the framework, slim as it is, provides just enough structure to take away the possiblity of addressing and interpreting each of the illustrations as a standalone.
I was particularly fascinated with the workings of anatomical designs, not so much because they were more exceptionally rendered than the other artwork (or actually the most acurate and realistic depictions) but more because their placement and integration conveys the feeling of Max Ernst being utter fascinated with the concept. Apart from that, the water-themed images are certainly the most memorable of the set and provide the most coherent contexualisation of all the chapters.

Hrmmm...

So... Max Ernst's brain must be a pretty exciting place, right? Even though I think all of the separate sections of the work are just as equally important, something about the "Monday" section really stood out to me as being particularly compelling. The water element as the driving theme behind the visual was really cool, and I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast in theme from the "Sunday" section. (Maybe because women are the dominant forces behind the separate pieces in "Monday," whereas in "Sunday" they are obviously much more repressed by the men.) For some reason I really love page 42 where it seems like the woman has obviously died by the river after the bridge has crumbled behind her. I still can't seem to put together what it might mean, but it's all about the reaction anyway, right? The water element of this section is beautiful, and another piece that caught my eye the most was page 51. The juxtaposition of the drowning men in the foreground with the woman looking relaxed (and perhaps expectantly so, given the contemplative look of the one man standing on the water) is both moving and slightly disturbing at the same time, but of course I can't say that's a bad thing! As weird and unsettling as this work is sometimes, I love the surrealism.

Haphazard Thoughts

Since Une Semaine de Bonte  seems to be more about reaction that comprehension, here are a few sporadic thoughts as they came to me:

I found the various framed pictures in the "Tuesday" section to be rather fascinating. The bizarre images the frames often contained brought them out of the background, where wall decorations are usually situated, and shoved them suddenly and strikingly close to the viewer. My favorite may have been on page 79. Or perhaps 77, a portrait (or mirror?) which I imagined to be revealing the woman's true intentions--intentions that (to me) weren't particularly benign. The chaos of the framed images on 111 was effective as well.

As Rachel mentioned, there were tons of recurring images that showed up throughout the entire work. A few that struck me (other than the more obvious ones denoted by the particular "example" of the chapter--can we call them chapters?): snakes, insects, leaf-stamps, and the innards of plants.

The fact that so often it was the faces that were replaced intrigued me. For a long time, I've found the idea of masks and their symbolic nature to be fascinating. By replacing the human face with an animal one, their very identity, their humanness was stripped away--or perhaps, their base animal natures revealed.

I thought the giant eyeball at the bottom of page 134 was very disturbing. Until it occurred to me that it was in the section in which the example was "Oedipus"; then I thought it was kind of hilarious. Also, I liked page 181 better upside down.

Repetition always finds its way back

Une Semaine De Bonte… yeah, interesting, to say the least. I really liked the aspect of repetition in all of the pictures. I thought it brought back the concept of the uncanny, which I think actually fits really well with all of this surrealism stuff, anyway. For me, Dimanche was my favorite because of the incorporation of the lion heads throughout and the fierceness that I think it brought into all of the pictures. (That, and the fact that I absolutely hate birds and they freak me out and they were in a lot of the rest of the book.) Throughout the whole of the book all of the pictures, though similar in nature, ultimately were very different when you really looked at them. I think if you were just flipping through it would be a little bit harder to distinguish between them because of the repeated elements, but I think that works for someone who is actually sitting down and taking the time to really look at it and pay attention.

The mix CDs are so amusing. Some are whacked as hell, though, to put it lightly. Number four on disk two was crazy and creepy and the layers kept messing with my mind, but that made it really cool, (but really creepy and I really kind of just wanted it to end). Some were really bizarre, but I was glad to have the mixture of the funky ones and the absolutely off-the-wall strange ones because it shows that we can really go absolutely anywhere with things and we’re pretty much unlimited.

I’m with Jess, about how this whole collage concept has kind of taken over. When I’m looking at or reading something, sometimes I’m thinking “What can I take from this?,” or “How can I use this?” I don’t mind it, though. Honestly, I think we could be doing that all the time anyway, looking for “inspiration” in other places, if that’s what you want to call it for a clear conscience. 

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words?

Well, Une Semaine de Bonte is certainly an interesting piece. I'd love to find out how the collages were actually formed physically and what underlying concepts sparked their conception. (That tends to be my immediate reaction to collages in this class: How was it formed? It's become an obsession; I really want to know.) Aside from this, the format is interesting as well. I like how each section is associated with a day of the week, and an element, yet is left unexplained. How does a baron with a lion's head embody "mud"? That's up to the reader to figure out. My favorite "theme", if you will, was "Water." I enjoyed how Ernst manipulated the ocean or rushing tides into each picture, especially the ones where women are sleeping. In this way, water seems to take on a dream-like and feminine quality. (So many men are drowned in this section! What the hell!) Is this because women are fickle, fluctuated, and "dependant" on the moon? Because we're swift like a coursing river? Have the force of a great typhoon? I also found it...maybe a little disconcerting...that at times the pictures began a narrative (I'm thinking of "Fire") but never upheld it fully. Or rather, I should say, there seemed to be a narrative, but I couldn't make any sense of it. It drove me nuts, but in a good way, I guess. (That's to say I didn't mind it terribly.) I think this collage best exhibits the "many interpretations" aspect that we discussed at the beginning of the semester.

Excuse me, where is this narrative going?

Both the short texts based on newspaper felt very much like a confirmation of my earlier thoughts about collage and directionality. The authors use - both in a different, but still intensely graphic way - the rearrangements of the words to de- and recontextualize, to fragment previous meanings and at the same time focus the text into a much more straight forward point; a theme if you will. This also leads back to my impression of Nadja having a subconscious narrative as well as a surface one, however in the case of the newspaper pieces that narrative was picked out of the sources by virtue of the composers' (which I will apply here instead of author, for it feels much more like they create new tunes out of a fixed set of materials, adhering to certain - albeit mostly and loosely grammatical - rules) eyes to be brought before the reader to see what they wouldn't have, had they only read the original pages.

Ambiguity

So much collage!
Anyway, I agree with Alyssa; I began to appreciate the book more through the end. I thought it was interesting how he brought up the idea of common sense (pg. 143) and how Nadja had lost, or had maybe never even possessed, common sense at all. It made me think of how it would apply to collage, and whether there need be any sense in it at all.

In “N,” since it is all taken from the front page of the New York Times, I wondered how Jackson put it together and made her decisions on how she was going to make sense of it all, (there it is again). I was thinking about what her intention was and how she considered how she was going to achieve that using just the material she designated for herself. I really liked the way she set it up, but my favorite part was the first paragraph of “Conversation Gospel,” when she discussed what constituted a conversation. Since "N" wasn't given a clear identity, he remained a bit ambiguous and left to be interpreted, as I found. I just found it to be an interesting concept, and now looking back, I realize that she made it all work using minimal materials.

Now, “Daily News” was another interesting form of collage, yet so much different. There was clearly much less text, but I liked that about it because there was less to absorb and it was easier to take in all at once and I could go back and look it over again and again. Since it isn’t set up in exact lines, it is a little ambiguous and so sometimes you can decide how you want to read which line for yourself, (or at least, that’s how I found it to be).