After reading the chapter and the selections from Evocative essays, take an abstract idea, then link it with a physical object or event. Place your 2-3 paragraph answer on the comments section of the blog.
I found this chapter very interesting in that it compared and contrasted several different pieces of art-work. I was amazed at how in “deep” Peter Blume’s “The Eternal City” was. On the surface it appeared as a very busy piece of work with several different subjects and ideas. Upon reading in the text the meaning, though, and finding out the meanings behind each of the different areas, the piece became much more meaningful to me. The section of the text that fascinated me the most was the section that covered “perspective.” The poem by e.e. cummings “l(a” was amazing in that it was, as the text referred to it, so “unusual in its form and its effects.” I guess one of the first questions that I had (after reading it and discovering its true meaning), was what inspired him (cummings) to write such an interesting piece? How did he come up with such an idea in the first place? Beyond that, I was amazed at how masterfully designed it was so that your eye would follow a clear path that swirls downward… much like that of a falling leaf. Clearly the section in the parentheses is essential to the overall effectiveness of this piece. It literally makes the poem what it truly is: an understandable parallel between a falling leaf and a dying person. This poem at first appeared to me as a very simple, oddly written jumble of words, but now I realize that it truly did take talent to write and is not a collection of random words structured in an odd manner. Boy was I wrong! I guess even something as small and seemingly simple a piece of work as this can have a much deeper meaning than meets the eye. As the book continuously stresses… you just have to take the time to look for it!
The whole time while I was reading, “The Rolling Pin,” I could taste beef jerky. When Pollak was describing how she felt and the sweetness she tasted while she used her Grandma’s rolling pin, I was brought back to the day I used my own money to buy my first stereo; maybe six or seven years ago. This was not just some small boom-box or CD player. I am talking the real deal; 3-disc changer, AM/FM stereo, and yes, even a cassette player. The best part was the speakers were detachable and had extremely long wires so I could have one set in one corner of my room and the other in the opposite corner. For someone who loves music as much as I do, there is nothing better than to feel as if you are surrounded by the notes. When I walked in the door with it, I got the look from my mother. I knew it was a silly purchase but what did I care? I was so excited to try it, I didn’t even wait to get to my room, I opened it up and plugged it in right there at the dining room table. Queue the jerky. My mother had gotten a dehydrator probably a couple years before that even and for some reason, felt like trying it out that day. I remember sampling the salt while looking at the orange glow on my stereo with little black numbers that read, “100.7,” the first radio station lucky enough to be played on my stereo. Once the excitement had worn off and my stereo made it up to my room, when I would turn it on, I can remember feeling like I was down stairs and I would suddenly taste the homemade beef jerky my mother had been testing out. Then I would get a glass of water. Where is this stereo now? Well, the main part is on the floor in my parent’s room while the speakers lay under my sister’s bed. The stereo obviously didn’t and doesn’t mean as much to me as the rolling pin did for Pollak, but I think the idea of the objects are the same.
After reading the Rolling Pin, it reminded me of the tree shaped air freshner in the Pine scent...YUCK. It instantly brings back memories of my, now deceased, father. He was very picky about his Ford truck and had a Pine scented air freshner dangling from the mirror. I swear he put a new one in there every day. We would go to town quite often, and I would usually stay in the truck because I didn't like running into the hardware store or going in to pay bills....boring. One day, I was so sick of the stench of pine, that I waited until he had gotten out and chucked that thing right out the window. He got back in the truck and must not have noticed. The stench was still lingering, so he couldn't tell. I was so excited when the day came where I was bringing home my first car. The first thing I did was wash it, even though it didn't need it. I scrubbed so hard that some of the rust started to crumble off. The next afternoon, I was going to pick up a friend and we were going to go for a cruise, since she didn't have a car. When I opened the car door, the stench of pine slapped me in the face. I was SO mad! I stormed back into the house and there was my father. His cheeks looked as though two tomatoes where growing out of them. His chest was bouncing up and down as he was bellering his infamous laugh outloud. It is one of those deep laughs that almost sounds like a cheap mall Santa barking, "Ho! Ho! HO!" to the people passing by. I wanted to strangle him for putting that nasty thing in my new car! As I tryed to look mad, all I could do was start laughing along with my father. His laugh contagously pulled me in. I stormed out and left. To this day, I've grown fond of the pine scented air freshner. No, I don't have one in my car because it would give me a headache, but I do make an attempt to go down the automotive isles and take a quick sniff once in awhile.
When I first started to read the chapters, I had no idea what I was going to learn about. I had a basic understanding of humanities, but when I started reading the chapter it opened my eyes up. I was not expecting to see different art pieces and really study them; look at them in a different "perspective". I am looking forward to learning the true meaning of the art/study of humanities. The writings of Mr. Cumminngs really intrigued me. Though we, cummings and I, are very different, I related to him greatly. I grew up on a farm, so traveling and family vacations consisted of going to local campgrounds. Don't get me wrong I loved them and the memories I have will be forever be cherished, but I found the world through books. I often dreamed of exotic places through the words that my book I was reading was sharing with me; as if it were my yellow brick road. "The Rolling Pin" it brought many emotions as I read it. The author, Susan Pollak, referred to the rolling pin as a evocative object that brings her back to her childhood and memories of her grandmother. I too can think of many evocative objects that bring such happiness, but I think that if I had to choose one to write about it would be "the necklace". I am getting married soon, and at this time the most important item that I am looking forward to wearing (besides my gown) is my grandmother's pearl necklace. My mother's mom passed away at 48. I never meet her, only through pictures, prayers and the angel kisses that are on my face. My mother and aunts have worn this necklace on the days that they said "I do". I too can not wait till that day comes when I can feel closer to her though pictures, prayers, angel kisses and now “the necklace”.
Sounds are very powerful. Sounds can range from signals to guide us, noise to annoy us, or when arranged into a particular song, bring us back to a specific place and time. One such song for me is called “True North” by Twila Paris. I had heard the song before this day, but now, when I hear it I am brought back to a drive I took along the north coast of California in my Jeep Wrangler.
I had just gone through a difficult emotional experience and I was doing a lot of soul searching. I don’t think it was the lyrics of the song that gave the experience meaning, or even the music, but the way it all blended with the graceful, winding road and what was going on in my heart. Having recently picked up the Jeep off the showroom floor, I was breaking it in on the curves while pushing the limits of the sounds system. Both of which may have contributed to the impact of the drive! In any case, I was finally getting to a place of being at peace with what I had emotionally gone through.
It’s been about eight years since that drive, but every time that song comes on, it brings me right back to that spot and I get a smile on my face, and a taste of what I felt then. The power of sound.
WOW.. when I got the assignment to read this chapters and I actually started to read them I was shocked I did not think humanties was like this. But as a read more and more the storiesd became so intersting. The writers were amazing to read there stories and how descriptive they were. The first story I read was the, "World Book". This story was a very intersting sotry knowing how a young man lived through the eyes of the world book growing up learning to read from the world book. This was something much different then how I grew up I grew up in a home where we never moved and were there was not silence. David grew up in a family were there was the opposite moving a lot due to his father being in the military and living in a silent home where there was silence and know seeing David taught at a wonderful medical college and practice privately. The second story is about a women who loses a loved one right before child birth. And the one thing she will never forget is the way her grandmothers kitchen used to smell and the way she used her rolling pin. It being 15 years later she is still using the same rolling pin and telling her children about grandmother Tillie. This is a story I can relate to because there is one thing about my grandfather I will never forget and that is he used to sit in this old chair everyday and play solitaire on his lap with a board he made. Me and my grandfather played many games together. After he passed my grandmother gave me the chair, the board and the deck of cards he always played with.
It is amazing how a persons culture can be expressed in art. Also amazing how different cultures look in art. It is weird how I can talk to a girl from Africa and relate to certain things that were in our childhood. It seemed to me that the cave paintings provided a basis for the art we now see in Art Galleries. Paintings can also describe a persons world as they see it. Whether it’s dark and dingy or bright and sunny. The paintings I saw in the book looked like sadness. I didn’t quite understand the one with the lines. Art is a very bold word, often misused I think. Some may think “, Art class is just drawing and painting.” Other arts are mosaic, paper mashie, and sculpture. Those I mentioned are the arts I appreciate. Poetry fits in with Literature and Art. It fits right in between and can say a lot or even open new emotions to a person. After I read a poem I can close my eyes and float to a scene and a certain scene from the poem. It can take you away. Poetry is one thing that I am really into. I write out my feelings. I thought it was pretty cool how the two poems said something said something to me. As I was reading I found myself nodding with agreement to the Drums and Pianos poem. Reading a poem can paint a beautiful picture in my mind. In conclusion many things we do and say effect how we represent our culture. Also what art is and what it expresses is more that a thousand words! One line and how it is drawn expresses a persons mood at that moment. It helps as a stress reliever, just sit down and draw or doodle your feelings out. It doesn’t matter if you’re an artist or not. Something you make and find not appealing may look different to me! It’s how you see a culture!
In the evocative objects book I enjoyed reading both the world book and rolling pin. The stories dealt with how objects can evoke different kinds of emotions/memories in people and can also in children take the place of some people. I have found this to be true; I have a son who clings to a blankie when it's time to wind down and head to bed which was an object they mentioned. In the textbook I enjoyed looking at the paintings. The painting with screaming child I initially found disturbing. It wasn't till after I read more about it that I understood a little better about it. I also enjoyed looking at the eternal city it was a piece I hadn't seen before and there was a lot of things going on and I noticed a lot more after I read on to learn more about it. As I read more about responses to art I learned that I normally have very superficial responses to art I tend not to look for deeper meaning. But, I was a little intrigued when I started too. The other pieces I thought were pretty neat were the two from Pablo Picasso his abstracts have a lot going on but I thought they were both interesting to look at.
I found that the short stories was much more interesting than the chapter in the text. I am not much into art mainly because I am not good at understanding the stories the pictures tell. In the World Book, there were some similarities to my grandparents and the way they raised my mom. They farmed and children growing up in that time were to be seen and not heard. My grandfather was in the military as well but not as a full timer. The dust bowl did affect the area of northeast North Dakota but not enough to make my grandparents lose there farm, but maybe hope. The differences are that my grandparents went on one trip a year to Minneapolis for Thanksgiving to see my grandpa's sister and that is all the moving they got to do besides moving equipment from field to field. To think how silence in the story made the child into a professor and how the negative yellings he got didn't make him a bad person. If you think of today if you did that to your children that would be neglect or abuse. The rolling pin reminds the author of the childhood she had with her grandmother making baked goods with her rolling pin. When I think of this story for some reason it makes me think about my grandpa the man I never got to meet. Him and my dad built the crib that I slept in for the first few years of my life. He named me and he helped build that crib. The only thing I had from him my dad decided was no good this last summer and threw it away. I fought and argued to keep that thing but there was no changing my dads mind. I unlike the author don't have a memory of my grandfather and now and I have nothing to remember him by except for the pictures and the stories. He died when my mom was 3 months pregnant. The only thing he asked before he left was that my name to be Ann and my parents granted it by using it in my middle name. So if I ever have kids some day I am going to carry on that name because that is the story that is told over and over again to me to remember him by. The rolling pin that didn't and can't ever get thrown away. I love how these stories we read brought back such great memories for me. It also helped me learn a little of my moms past growing up on a little farm in northeast North Dakota. Even though now the farm no longer is in operation there will always be memories.
After reading the essays in Evocative Objects. I have found that there are many objects in my life that have a significance to me. While reading the Rolling pin I couldn’t help but think of my own grandmother and all of the baking she used to do. As kids we would sit and watch her rollout the dough for her famous sugar cookies. She also makes the most wonderful coffee cakes with poppy seed filling. In her kitchen she always had this plate that hung on the wall with a cat on it. Every time I saw that plate I would think about those sugar cookies and coffee cakes and how good they were and not to mention all of the hard work she did to make them!! Grandma has gotten older now and is not always up to the baking she used to do. She gave me the recipe to make her coffee cakes, which I have made several times. (Not quite the same as hers, but close..she says). After we built our house we had a house warming party. I made the coffee cakes to serve to our guests. My grandmother came bearing gifts and one of them was the cat plate that hung on her kitchen wall all of those years!! I was over joyed, no one else could understand why I wanted that old plate with the cat on it. It didn’t mean a thing to them, but to me it meant the world!!!
I need my classmates to be patient with me. I am not an abstract thinker and I had a hard time with the text. I don't really appreciate art so I will try to comment on the World Book.
My first thoughts as I read the story is that his family is one of limited financial means. The author discusses that he does not know how his family came by the books. Being a bit older I realize how expensive buying a set of World Books was back in the day. Or possibly he does not fathom how his family would realize what a gift they would be for him. As I continue to read of what his family life was like I find myself wondering what was his ethnic background. His family is quiet, stoic, sounds as if they showed few emotions, required proper behavior and had little time for silliness. The author states, "sounds oppressive, but I do not believe my family intended that we live this way. As best I can tell they had not shunned the larger culture ... they had just arisen outside its reach" It reminds me of my own childhood of Norwegian heritage. A very stoic group of people. Very rarely laugh out loud. It is implied that I love you, but please don't enter in my three foot comfort zone. Days are surrounded with the task at hand. His family did not sound harsh. He describes hours of playtime outside, not days of chores and rules. As he discovered the books, I beleive his parents provided for him in ways that they could not. The books were as he describes, "gentle masters" who "offered their secrets freely and never shamed me for inquiring". I found it interesting that the author through all his education as a physician and psychoanalyst states that he tries to help others but struggles to understand their feelings. I beleive that this is directly due to his childhood. The books that taught him to learn could not teach him to feel.
When i asked what Humanities class was when i registered for the class my advisor asked me "Can you be nice?" I said when i want or need to be and she said then you will do fine in the class. Boy was she wrong. I have always enjoyed art as long as i was not the one that was doing it as i can barely do a stick person. When i would look at art i always wondered what was going through the artist minds when they created this piece and when reading the chapter and looking at the art it was nice to actually understand the piece. I also enjoyed reading The Rolling Pin. The author explained it as if you were there to taste it yourself. This brings back alot of memories of my grammie as we use to bake so much when i was little and loved every moment that i got to spend the time with her. As I read the piece it was like i could smell the cookies coming out of the oven. When my grammie passed, all of my sisters and i argued who would get the baking items and the one bowl that we use to always use when we made the cookies. But being the youngest i lost out however i did get my grammies rolling pin and cookie cutter set that now i can make the same memories with my kids as she did with us.
While I was reading "Rolling Pin" I could not help but go back to my childhood and how I was raised. I too lived very close to my grandparents, (I didn't have parents like the ones in the story) but I was very close to my grandparents. My siblings and I would often go over there when we wanted to get away or just to see them, which was quite often. We would also go over there if we wanted something that our parents would not give us. As I was reading the story it really brought me back to the time when my grandmother was still alive. I would do so many things with her including cooking, baking, and gardening. I now still do all of those things just sadly no longer with her. My Grandmother is gone now 5 years and I am the granddaughter that carried on a lot of her traditions. My grandfather is still alive and is still living in the same house on our farm place, and I still see him quite often. Some of the main traditions that I carried on from her was making homemade bread by hand, and also making sauerkraut. I loved helping my grandmother make these things when I was younger, we always has some much fun. Now when I make them alone, I use the same exact bowl and pans that we used then and I can still hear her voice and the directions she gave me when she was teaching me for the first times all those years ago. I can hear her say "Now Kim, you have to get all the air bubbles out when you knead the bread or here will be holes in it when it bakes". Every single time that I make bread I can hear that in my head over and over as if she is still there telling me to make sure all the air bubbles are out. I have a lot of joy knowing that I am carrying on the traditions that my grandmother taught me. I know that my grandfather really likes when I do these things, he usually just sits at the table and watches me while I do it, I think that it really reminds him of his wife. Then there is when it is all done, when the fresh bread comes out of the oven, and everyone has to try a piece. Knowing that it comes out looking and smelling as it did many years ago when she made it bring back the great memories of her and my childhood. I really enjoyed reading the story "Rolling Pin" I made me look at my life and how so many things are influenced my memories, be it me of items, smelling or just traditions.
havn't gotten my books yet, they should be here by tuesday, but from reading everyone elses blogs i think i have figured out what i need to do. Everyone talking about how memories are important in out life, a number of people wrote about food memories and when reading the memory of my moms famous monkey bread came to mind. Ever since I can remember me and my mom had a tradition of making her delicous monkey bread every month. I would wake up every morning and run to the kitchen to see if she had dough rising on the oven and get so excited when there was. The wait for it to rise was unbearable! Then the time came to comver the dough peices in the brown suger/cinnamin mix, that was my favorite part. Then I would always sample the buttery glaze thaqt went over the pieces before it was put into the oven, i can almost taste right now... Nowdays my mom doesnt make it as often, but when she does, I always think of the happy times we had
When I first started reading this book I was a little overwhelmed. I didn’t know really what to expect but as I kept reading I found it very interesting. When reading the Rolling Pin and The World Book, I didn’t have any memories that came to mind. I started brainstorming about smells and sounds, just because they are the easiest for me to relate to. All of a sudden my Aunt Sharon’s old house came into my mind. I practically worshiped my aunt. She was someone I looked up to, who wanted to “be.” I was from a small town and she lived in Minneapolis. She was single, independent, and intriguing. She loved the arts, Halloween, and different cultures. She was very eco-friendly and never gave herself completely to anything as far as one religion, one way of thinking, or one way people should live life. She appreciates art, nature, and literature and passed it on to me. I would stay with her often, but we always stayed up late and watched I love Lucy tapes and musicals. We would go to art museums and shop in uptown and eat food that differed greatly from little Ma and Pa restaurants I was used to. The reason I remembered her was because of a certain smell. She wore this perfume that smelled live a mixture between lavender, sandalwood, ginger and cigarette smoke. I suppose that’s a horrible description but to me it smelled good. I hate the smell of scented lotions or perfume or cologne so for it to smell good it had to be good. Anyway, every time I see her she smells the same. Her whole house smelled like old books and incense and to this even her new house smells the same. I think I looked up to her so much as a child because I wanted to be her. She was full of life and seemed to have her own sense of empowerment. We aren’t as close anymore being that she is so busy with work and I am with school, my son, and work as well. However, we make time to reminisce about the old times and plan new adventures. I am just thankful that my son will know her and learn to appreciate the things in life people sometimes are too busy notice.
I really had no idea what to expect when I got into this class... I have taken some other art and learning classes but I really didnt know waht I was going to be getting my self into with this class! It is really interesting reading stories that you really can relate to and have the ability to look at things from another point of view. The Rolling pin was a great story and I related to it becuase I would go and live with my Grandma over the summertime and we would bake and relate through cooking. When I became pregnant I was super excited to have my kid to have the chance to experience it with my Mother. I lost her during child birth so I have yet to experience it from that perspective but maybe one day. I love that these stories are so easy to relate to and seem to be "reality".
I found this chapter to be very interesting! As far as trying to think of an abstract idea and linking it with a physical object, the first thing that came to my mind was Religion and the cross. As I have grown, both in age and in faith, I have realized many thing. When I was younger, I knew that we always went to church, and I attended church school. I knew what my family believed and therefore I believed the same. As I have gotten older, I have taken my religion and grown in it. I like my faith and religion with the cross that hangs around my neck. I wear my cross to reming myself to be kind and considerate to others. It is simply a silent reminder for me. I do not see it a an outward statement to others about my faith, even though I know that others may wear a cross for that reason and that is totally o.k. with me!! I feel that many people view religion as an "abstract" idea, and religion and a cross (as a physical object) are my link.
In the textbook, I found it very interesting to compare and learn how to look at art differently. I found it very interesting to realize that I would look at a picture of art one way and then after reading on and "educating" myself on the history about the painting and the date of when it was painted, I would look at the SAME painting in such a different way!!
Lastly, I have to share what I found to be great in the text. On page 5 of our humanities text I came across this in one of the sentences: "Generally, we can say that the work of art remains the same. It is we who change." I found that to be so true for me! Brittany B.
My mom has always told me storys about her and my dad when they were growing up together and one story that she told me sticks with me today mostly because the irony of it. When my parents were younger they used to buy cars and rebuild the engines but they had this weird thing that when they would go and look at a car they wouldn't buy it if the car lighter didn't work. My dad used to say that if the lighter doesn't work there is probably a lot of wiring and electrical problems. I found this kind of funny I had never heard anything like that before. But nevertheless they didn't buy the car.
When I was 16 years old my dad died. I never really knew him except for the stories my mom told me. So when my grandparents came up to visit they brought me his car, and told me that he would have wanted me to have it, I got into the car and the first thing I did was check the lighter. It worked! I had to laugh to myself as I was hoping that my dad was looking down laughing too. About a week later I got into the car and went to light up a cigarette, and the lighter just didn't want to work for me. I didn't really think about it, to be honest I was more upset about not getting my nicottene fix. A few more months went by and my blinkers stopped working, so I changed the bulbs, and still they didn't work. I got it checked out and they told me there was a shortage in the wiring. As time went by the automatic window stopped working, the a/c stopped working, and all of it was electrical problems. It wasn't until probably a year later that I was talking to my mom about her storys that it hit me. Wow how ironic that I get a car from my dad and it just so happens the lighter goes out, followed by numerous electrical problems. I wonder if he got a laugh out of that one? I sure did.
As I read The World Book by David Mann I picture my parents oak book shelf filled with World Books. As Mann described the books, each crimson spine wore a swath of blue lines in the same gold paint in which the letter indentifying each volume had been stamped, I could see my families set of World books placed perfectly in there place. We never opened our World Books. They stayed in there place in the book shelf to act as a decoration. I never realied until now what was even inside the books. We are all raised differently and in the end it makes us who we are. I have a difficult time thinking outside the box. Creative thinking has slowly came to me age, but was never taught to me through my parents or a book. As I become more interested in the world I allow my imagination to run wild.
I relate The Rolling Pin to my life. I had a very close friend who passed away ten years ago when we were freshmen in high school. I will alway remember her smell. I had a hard time understanding why one of my best friends had to leave my life forever. I rebelled and acted out for several months. I could cope with the pain. Nobody understood how I felt. About one year later I was shopping and I ran across the fragance she always smelled of. I debated about going and taking a sniff. I wasn't sure if it would make me sad all over again. I finally walk over and smelled the bottle, I felt an instant warming and fullfilment. I have no idea why but it put my mind at ease for the first time in a year. I still wear the perfume to this day and everyday I have great memories of my friend.
I have moved around most of my life. It really has made me who I am because it's what has made it easy for me to let go of things, even the worst of things, without feeling bitter about it. My favorite place that I have lived is Michigan. The green of the tress and grass is so deep. The thing that brings me back to Michigan is the smell of skunk. Now I don't know if Michigan has a larger skunk population or what but it was a common smell during the summers there. A smell that didn't effect any of us as we ran around the neighbrohood playing ghost in the graveyard. Now when I smell it, it smells so great to me. People think i am insane for that, but it brings me back to one of the best places I have ever been and what could be better than that?
After I read the story of The Rolling Pin, it instantly reminded me of the scent from green apple Suave shampoo. I remembered the summers with my mom in the beach, how we used to walk together along the shore and all the different seashells I would find. After splashing around I would go home and take a shower and use my mom’s shampoo, green apple Suave. I also remembered how we used to sit out in the porch after coming back from the beach and just talk about how beautiful the sunset was. The breeze would carry the scent of the green apple and it just smelled so fresh. The scent just reminds me of summer itself. Of the rides at the fair, the horseback rides at the ranch, the swing my dad put on the tree. It also reminds me of all the afternoons I spent with my friends. How we would play hide and go seek in the afternoons while the adults would talk about stories that we would one day tell our kids. Every time I go to the I try to buy that same shampoo and even if it’s winter it keeps bringing me back to those summer days when I wished the days would never end.
21 comments:
I found this chapter very interesting in that it compared and contrasted several different pieces of art-work. I was amazed at how in “deep” Peter Blume’s “The Eternal City” was. On the surface it appeared as a very busy piece of work with several different subjects and ideas. Upon reading in the text the meaning, though, and finding out the meanings behind each of the different areas, the piece became much more meaningful to me.
The section of the text that fascinated me the most was the section that covered “perspective.” The poem by e.e. cummings “l(a” was amazing in that it was, as the text referred to it, so “unusual in its form and its effects.” I guess one of the first questions that I had (after reading it and discovering its true meaning), was what inspired him (cummings) to write such an interesting piece? How did he come up with such an idea in the first place? Beyond that, I was amazed at how masterfully designed it was so that your eye would follow a clear path that swirls downward… much like that of a falling leaf. Clearly the section in the parentheses is essential to the overall effectiveness of this piece. It literally makes the poem what it truly is: an understandable parallel between a falling leaf and a dying person. This poem at first appeared to me as a very simple, oddly written jumble of words, but now I realize that it truly did take talent to write and is not a collection of random words structured in an odd manner. Boy was I wrong! I guess even something as small and seemingly simple a piece of work as this can have a much deeper meaning than meets the eye. As the book continuously stresses… you just have to take the time to look for it!
- Zachary Dalhoff
The whole time while I was reading, “The Rolling Pin,” I could taste beef jerky. When Pollak was describing how she felt and the sweetness she tasted while she used her Grandma’s rolling pin, I was brought back to the day I used my own money to buy my first stereo; maybe six or seven years ago. This was not just some small boom-box or CD player. I am talking the real deal; 3-disc changer, AM/FM stereo, and yes, even a cassette player. The best part was the speakers were detachable and had extremely long wires so I could have one set in one corner of my room and the other in the opposite corner. For someone who loves music as much as I do, there is nothing better than to feel as if you are surrounded by the notes. When I walked in the door with it, I got the look from my mother. I knew it was a silly purchase but what did I care? I was so excited to try it, I didn’t even wait to get to my room, I opened it up and plugged it in right there at the dining room table. Queue the jerky. My mother had gotten a dehydrator probably a couple years before that even and for some reason, felt like trying it out that day. I remember sampling the salt while looking at the orange glow on my stereo with little black numbers that read, “100.7,” the first radio station lucky enough to be played on my stereo. Once the excitement had worn off and my stereo made it up to my room, when I would turn it on, I can remember feeling like I was down stairs and I would suddenly taste the homemade beef jerky my mother had been testing out. Then I would get a glass of water. Where is this stereo now? Well, the main part is on the floor in my parent’s room while the speakers lay under my sister’s bed. The stereo obviously didn’t and doesn’t mean as much to me as the rolling pin did for Pollak, but I think the idea of the objects are the same.
After reading the Rolling Pin, it reminded me of the tree shaped air freshner in the Pine scent...YUCK.
It instantly brings back memories of my, now deceased, father.
He was very picky about his Ford truck and had a Pine scented air freshner dangling from the mirror. I swear he put a new one in there every day. We would go to town quite often, and I would usually stay in the truck because I didn't like running into the hardware store or going in to pay bills....boring. One day, I was so sick of the stench of pine, that I waited until he had gotten out and chucked that thing right out the window. He got back in the truck and must not have noticed. The stench was still lingering, so he couldn't tell.
I was so excited when the day came where I was bringing home my first car. The first thing I did was wash it, even though it didn't need it. I scrubbed so hard that some of the rust started to crumble off.
The next afternoon, I was going to pick up a friend and we were going to go for a cruise, since she didn't have a car. When I opened the car door, the stench of pine slapped me in the face. I was SO mad! I stormed back into the house and there was my father. His cheeks looked as though two tomatoes where growing out of them. His chest was bouncing up and down as he was bellering his infamous laugh outloud. It is one of those deep laughs that almost sounds like a cheap mall Santa barking, "Ho! Ho! HO!" to the people passing by.
I wanted to strangle him for putting that nasty thing in my new car! As I tryed to look mad, all I could do was start laughing along with my father. His laugh contagously pulled me in. I stormed out and left.
To this day, I've grown fond of the pine scented air freshner. No, I don't have one in my car because it would give me a headache, but I do make an attempt to go down the automotive isles and take a quick sniff once in awhile.
When I first started to read the chapters, I had no idea what I was going to learn about. I had a basic understanding of humanities, but when I started reading the chapter it opened my eyes up. I was not expecting to see different art pieces and really study them; look at them in a different "perspective". I am looking forward to learning the true meaning of the art/study of humanities. The writings of Mr. Cumminngs really intrigued me. Though we, cummings and I, are very different, I related to him greatly. I grew up on a farm, so traveling and family vacations consisted of going to local campgrounds. Don't get me wrong I loved them and the memories I have will be forever be cherished, but I found the world through books. I often dreamed of exotic places through the words that my book I was reading was sharing with me; as if it were my yellow brick road. "The Rolling Pin" it brought many emotions as I read it. The author, Susan Pollak, referred to the rolling pin as a evocative object that brings her back to her childhood and memories of her grandmother. I too can think of many evocative objects that bring such happiness, but I think that if I had to choose one to write about it would be "the necklace". I am getting married soon, and at this time the most important item that I am looking forward to wearing (besides my gown) is my grandmother's pearl necklace. My mother's mom passed away at 48. I never meet her, only through pictures, prayers and the angel kisses that are on my face. My mother and aunts have worn this necklace on the days that they said "I do". I too can not wait till that day comes when I can feel closer to her though pictures, prayers, angel kisses and now “the necklace”.
Sounds are very powerful. Sounds can range from signals to guide us, noise to annoy us, or when arranged into a particular song, bring us back to a specific place and time. One such song for me is called “True North” by Twila Paris. I had heard the song before this day, but now, when I hear it I am brought back to a drive I took along the north coast of California in my Jeep Wrangler.
I had just gone through a difficult emotional experience and I was doing a lot of soul searching. I don’t think it was the lyrics of the song that gave the experience meaning, or even the music, but the way it all blended with the graceful, winding road and what was going on in my heart. Having recently picked up the Jeep off the showroom floor, I was breaking it in on the curves while pushing the limits of the sounds system. Both of which may have contributed to the impact of the drive! In any case, I was finally getting to a place of being at peace with what I had emotionally gone through.
It’s been about eight years since that drive, but every time that song comes on, it brings me right back to that spot and I get a smile on my face, and a taste of what I felt then. The power of sound.
WOW.. when I got the assignment to read this chapters and I actually started to read them I was shocked I did not think humanties was like this. But as a read more and more the storiesd became so intersting. The writers were amazing to read there stories and how descriptive they were. The first story I read was the, "World Book". This story was a very intersting sotry knowing how a young man lived through the eyes of the world book growing up learning to read from the world book. This was something much different then how I grew up I grew up in a home where we never moved and were there was not silence. David grew up in a family were there was the opposite moving a lot due to his father being in the military and living in a silent home where there was silence and know seeing David taught at a wonderful medical college and practice privately.
The second story is about a women who loses a loved one right before child birth. And the one thing she will never forget is the way her grandmothers kitchen used to smell and the way she used her rolling pin. It being 15 years later she is still using the same rolling pin and telling her children about grandmother Tillie. This is a story I can relate to because there is one thing about my grandfather I will never forget and that is he used to sit in this old chair everyday and play solitaire on his lap with a board he made. Me and my grandfather played many games together. After he passed my grandmother gave me the chair, the board and the deck of cards he always played with.
It is amazing how a persons culture can be expressed in art. Also amazing how different cultures look in art. It is weird how I can talk to a girl from Africa and relate to certain things that were in our childhood.
It seemed to me that the cave paintings provided a basis for the art we now see in Art Galleries. Paintings can also describe a persons world as they see it. Whether it’s dark and dingy or bright and sunny. The paintings I saw in the book looked like sadness. I didn’t quite understand the one with the lines.
Art is a very bold word, often misused I think. Some may think “, Art class is just drawing and painting.” Other arts are mosaic, paper mashie, and sculpture. Those I mentioned are the arts I appreciate.
Poetry fits in with Literature and Art. It fits right in between and can say a lot or even open new emotions to a person. After I read a poem I can close my eyes and float to a scene and a certain scene from the poem. It can take you away.
Poetry is one thing that I am really into. I write out my feelings. I thought it was pretty cool how the two poems said something said something to me. As I was reading I found myself nodding with agreement to the Drums and Pianos poem. Reading a poem can paint a beautiful picture in my mind.
In conclusion many things we do and say effect how we represent our culture. Also what art is and what it expresses is more that a thousand words! One line and how it is drawn expresses a persons mood at that moment. It helps as a stress reliever, just sit down and draw or doodle your feelings out. It doesn’t matter if you’re an artist or not. Something you make and find not appealing may look different to me! It’s how you see a culture!
In the evocative objects book I enjoyed reading both the world book and rolling pin. The stories dealt with how objects can evoke different kinds of emotions/memories in people and can also in children take the place of some people. I have found this to be true; I have a son who clings to a blankie when it's time to wind down and head to bed which was an object they mentioned.
In the textbook I enjoyed looking at the paintings. The painting with screaming child I initially found disturbing. It wasn't till after I read more about it that I understood a little better about it. I also enjoyed looking at the eternal city it was a piece I hadn't seen before and there was a lot of things going on and I noticed a lot more after I read on to learn more about it.
As I read more about responses to art I learned that I normally have very superficial responses to art I tend not to look for deeper meaning. But, I was a little intrigued when I started too. The other pieces I thought were pretty neat were the two from Pablo Picasso his abstracts have a lot going on but I thought they were both interesting to look at.
I found that the short stories was much more interesting than the chapter in the text. I am not much into art mainly because I am not good at understanding the stories the pictures tell.
In the World Book, there were some similarities to my grandparents and the way they raised my mom. They farmed and children growing up in that time were to be seen and not heard. My grandfather was in the military as well but not as a full timer. The dust bowl did affect the area of northeast North Dakota but not enough to make my grandparents lose there farm, but maybe hope. The differences are that my grandparents went on one trip a year to Minneapolis for Thanksgiving to see my grandpa's sister and that is all the moving they got to do besides moving equipment from field to field. To think how silence in the story made the child into a professor and how the negative yellings he got didn't make him a bad person. If you think of today if you did that to your children that would be neglect or abuse.
The rolling pin reminds the author of the childhood she had with her grandmother making baked goods with her rolling pin. When I think of this story for some reason it makes me think about my grandpa the man I never got to meet. Him and my dad built the crib that I slept in for the first few years of my life. He named me and he helped build that crib. The only thing I had from him my dad decided was no good this last summer and threw it away. I fought and argued to keep that thing but there was no changing my dads mind. I unlike the author don't have a memory of my grandfather and now and I have nothing to remember him by except for the pictures and the stories. He died when my mom was 3 months pregnant. The only thing he asked before he left was that my name to be Ann and my parents granted it by using it in my middle name. So if I ever have kids some day I am going to carry on that name because that is the story that is told over and over again to me to remember him by. The rolling pin that didn't and can't ever get thrown away.
I love how these stories we read brought back such great memories for me. It also helped me learn a little of my moms past growing up on a little farm in northeast North Dakota. Even though now the farm no longer is in operation there will always be memories.
After reading the essays in Evocative Objects. I have found that there are many objects in my life that have a significance to me. While reading the Rolling pin I couldn’t help but think of my own grandmother and all of the baking she used to do. As kids we would sit and watch her rollout the dough for her famous sugar cookies. She also makes the most wonderful coffee cakes with poppy seed filling. In her kitchen she always had this plate that hung on the wall with a cat on it. Every time I saw that plate I would think about those sugar cookies and coffee cakes and how good they were and not to mention all of the hard work she did to make them!!
Grandma has gotten older now and is not always up to the baking she used to do. She gave me the recipe to make her coffee cakes, which I have made several times. (Not quite the same as hers, but close..she says).
After we built our house we had a house warming party. I made the coffee cakes to serve to our guests. My grandmother came bearing gifts and one of them was the cat plate that hung on her kitchen wall all of those years!! I was over joyed, no one else could understand why I wanted that old plate with the cat on it. It didn’t mean a thing to them, but to me it meant the world!!!
I need my classmates to be patient with me. I am not an abstract thinker and I had a hard time with the text. I don't really appreciate art so I will try to comment on the World Book.
My first thoughts as I read the story is that his family is one of limited financial means. The author discusses that he does not know how his family came by the books. Being a bit older I realize how expensive buying a set of World Books was back in the day. Or possibly he does not fathom how his family would realize what a gift they would be for him.
As I continue to read of what his family life was like I find myself wondering what was his ethnic background. His family is quiet, stoic, sounds as if they showed few emotions, required proper behavior and had little time for silliness. The author states, "sounds oppressive, but I do not believe my family intended that we live this way. As best I can tell they had not shunned the larger culture ... they had just arisen outside its reach" It reminds me of my own childhood of Norwegian heritage. A very stoic group of people. Very rarely laugh out loud. It is implied that I love you, but please don't enter in my three foot comfort zone. Days are surrounded with the task at hand. His family did not sound harsh. He describes hours of playtime outside, not days of chores and rules.
As he discovered the books, I beleive his parents provided for him in ways that they could not. The books were as he describes, "gentle masters" who "offered their secrets freely and never shamed me for inquiring".
I found it interesting that the author through all his education as a physician and psychoanalyst states that he tries to help others but struggles to understand their feelings. I beleive that this is directly due to his childhood. The books that taught him to learn could not teach him to feel.
When i asked what Humanities class was when i registered for the class my advisor asked me "Can you be nice?" I said when i want or need to be and she said then you will do fine in the class. Boy was she wrong.
I have always enjoyed art as long as i was not the one that was doing it as i can barely do a stick person. When i would look at art i always wondered what was going through the artist minds when they created this piece and when reading the chapter and looking at the art it was nice to actually understand the piece.
I also enjoyed reading The Rolling Pin. The author explained it as if you were there to taste it yourself. This brings back alot of memories of my grammie as we use to bake so much when i was little and loved every moment that i got to spend the time with her. As I read the piece it was like i could smell the cookies coming out of the oven. When my grammie passed, all of my sisters and i argued who would get the baking items and the one bowl that we use to always use when we made the cookies. But being the youngest i lost out however i did get my grammies rolling pin and cookie cutter set that now i can make the same memories with my kids as she did with us.
While I was reading "Rolling Pin" I could not help but go back to my childhood and how I was raised. I too lived very close to my grandparents, (I didn't have parents like the ones in the story) but I was very close to my grandparents. My siblings and I would often go over there when we wanted to get away or just to see them, which was quite often. We would also go over there if we wanted something that our parents would not give us. As I was reading the story it really brought me back to the time when my grandmother was still alive. I would do so many things with her including cooking, baking, and gardening. I now still do all of those things just sadly no longer with her. My Grandmother is gone now 5 years and I am the granddaughter that carried on a lot of her traditions. My grandfather is still alive and is still living in the same house on our farm place, and I still see him quite often. Some of the main traditions that I carried on from her was making homemade bread by hand, and also making sauerkraut. I loved helping my grandmother make these things when I was younger, we always has some much fun. Now when I make them alone, I use the same exact bowl and pans that we used then and I can still hear her voice and the directions she gave me when she was teaching me for the first times all those years ago. I can hear her say "Now Kim, you have to get all the air bubbles out when you knead the bread or here will be holes in it when it bakes". Every single time that I make bread I can hear that in my head over and over as if she is still there telling me to make sure all the air bubbles are out. I have a lot of joy knowing that I am carrying on the traditions that my grandmother taught me. I know that my grandfather really likes when I do these things, he usually just sits at the table and watches me while I do it, I think that it really reminds him of his wife. Then there is when it is all done, when the fresh bread comes out of the oven, and everyone has to try a piece. Knowing that it comes out looking and smelling as it did many years ago when she made it bring back the great memories of her and my childhood. I really enjoyed reading the story "Rolling Pin" I made me look at my life and how so many things are influenced my memories, be it me of items, smelling or just traditions.
havn't gotten my books yet, they should be here by tuesday, but from reading everyone elses blogs i think i have figured out what i need to do. Everyone talking about how memories are important in out life, a number of people wrote about food memories and when reading the memory of my moms famous monkey bread came to mind.
Ever since I can remember me and my mom had a tradition of making her delicous monkey bread every month. I would wake up every morning and run to the kitchen to see if she had dough rising on the oven and get so excited when there was. The wait for it to rise was unbearable! Then the time came to comver the dough peices in the brown suger/cinnamin mix, that was my favorite part. Then I would always sample the buttery glaze thaqt went over the pieces before it was put into the oven, i can almost taste right now... Nowdays my mom doesnt make it as often, but when she does, I always think of the happy times we had
When I first started reading this book I was a little overwhelmed. I didn’t know really what to expect but as I kept reading I found it very interesting. When reading the Rolling Pin and The World Book, I didn’t have any memories that came to mind. I started brainstorming about smells and sounds, just because they are the easiest for me to relate to. All of a sudden my Aunt Sharon’s old house came into my mind. I practically worshiped my aunt. She was someone I looked up to, who wanted to “be.” I was from a small town and she lived in Minneapolis. She was single, independent, and intriguing. She loved the arts, Halloween, and different cultures. She was very eco-friendly and never gave herself completely to anything as far as one religion, one way of thinking, or one way people should live life. She appreciates art, nature, and literature and passed it on to me.
I would stay with her often, but we always stayed up late and watched I love Lucy tapes and musicals. We would go to art museums and shop in uptown and eat food that differed greatly from little Ma and Pa restaurants I was used to. The reason I remembered her was because of a certain smell. She wore this perfume that smelled live a mixture between lavender, sandalwood, ginger and cigarette smoke. I suppose that’s a horrible description but to me it smelled good. I hate the smell of scented lotions or perfume or cologne so for it to smell good it had to be good. Anyway, every time I see her she smells the same. Her whole house smelled like old books and incense and to this even her new house smells the same. I think I looked up to her so much as a child because I wanted to be her. She was full of life and seemed to have her own sense of empowerment. We aren’t as close anymore being that she is so busy with work and I am with school, my son, and work as well. However, we make time to reminisce about the old times and plan new adventures. I am just thankful that my son will know her and learn to appreciate the things in life people sometimes are too busy notice.
I really had no idea what to expect when I got into this class... I have taken some other art and learning classes but I really didnt know waht I was going to be getting my self into with this class! It is really interesting reading stories that you really can relate to and have the ability to look at things from another point of view. The Rolling pin was a great story and I related to it becuase I would go and live with my Grandma over the summertime and we would bake and relate through cooking. When I became pregnant I was super excited to have my kid to have the chance to experience it with my Mother. I lost her during child birth so I have yet to experience it from that perspective but maybe one day. I love that these stories are so easy to relate to and seem to be "reality".
I found this chapter to be very interesting! As far as trying to think of an abstract idea and linking it with a physical object, the first thing that came to my mind was Religion and the cross. As I have grown, both in age and in faith, I have realized many thing. When I was younger, I knew that we always went to church, and I attended church school. I knew what my family believed and therefore I believed the same. As I have gotten older, I have taken my religion and grown in it. I like my faith and religion with the cross that hangs around my neck. I wear my cross to reming myself to be kind and considerate to others. It is simply a silent reminder for me. I do not see it a an outward statement to others about my faith, even though I know that others may wear a cross for that reason and that is totally o.k. with me!! I feel that many people view religion as an "abstract" idea, and religion and a cross (as a physical object) are my link.
In the textbook, I found it very interesting to compare and learn how to look at art differently. I found it very interesting to realize that I would look at a picture of art one way and then after reading on and "educating" myself on the history about the painting and the date of when it was painted, I would look at the SAME painting in such a different way!!
Lastly, I have to share what I found to be great in the text. On page 5 of our humanities text I came across this in one of the sentences: "Generally, we can say that the work of art remains the same. It is we who change." I found that to be so true for me!
Brittany B.
My mom has always told me storys about her and my dad when they were growing up together and one story that she told me sticks with me today mostly because the irony of it. When my parents were younger they used to buy cars and rebuild the engines but they had this weird thing that when they would go and look at a car they wouldn't buy it if the car lighter didn't work. My dad used to say that if the lighter doesn't work there is probably a lot of wiring and electrical problems. I found this kind of funny I had never heard anything like that before. But nevertheless they didn't buy the car.
When I was 16 years old my dad died. I never really knew him except for the stories my mom told me. So when my grandparents came up to visit they brought me his car, and told me that he would have wanted me to have it, I got into the car and the first thing I did was check the lighter. It worked! I had to laugh to myself as I was hoping that my dad was looking down laughing too. About a week later I got into the car and went to light up a cigarette, and the lighter just didn't want to work for me. I didn't really think about it, to be honest I was more upset about not getting my nicottene fix. A few more months went by and my blinkers stopped working, so I changed the bulbs, and still they didn't work. I got it checked out and they told me there was a shortage in the wiring. As time went by the automatic window stopped working, the a/c stopped working, and all of it was electrical problems. It wasn't until probably a year later that I was talking to my mom about her storys that it hit me. Wow how ironic that I get a car from my dad and it just so happens the lighter goes out, followed by numerous electrical problems. I wonder if he got a laugh out of that one? I sure did.
As I read The World Book by David Mann I picture my parents oak book shelf filled with World Books. As Mann described the books, each crimson spine wore a swath of blue lines in the same gold paint in which the letter indentifying each volume had been stamped, I could see my families set of World books placed perfectly in there place. We never opened our World Books. They stayed in there place in the book shelf to act as a decoration. I never realied until now what was even inside the books. We are all raised differently and in the end it makes us who we are. I have a difficult time thinking outside the box. Creative thinking has slowly came to me age, but was never taught to me through my parents or a book. As I become more interested in the world I allow my imagination to run wild.
I relate The Rolling Pin to my life. I had a very close friend who passed away ten years ago when we were freshmen in high school. I will alway remember her smell. I had a hard time understanding why one of my best friends had to leave my life forever. I rebelled and acted out for several months. I could cope with the pain. Nobody understood how I felt. About one year later I was shopping and I ran across the fragance she always smelled of. I debated about going and taking a sniff. I wasn't sure if it would make me sad all over again. I finally walk over and smelled the bottle, I felt an instant warming and fullfilment. I have no idea why but it put my mind at ease for the first time in a year. I still wear the perfume to this day and everyday I have great memories of my friend.
I have moved around most of my life. It really has made me who I am because it's what has made it easy for me to let go of things, even the worst of things, without feeling bitter about it.
My favorite place that I have lived is Michigan. The green of the tress and grass is so deep. The thing that brings me back to Michigan is the smell of skunk. Now I don't know if Michigan has a larger skunk population or what but it was a common smell during the summers there. A smell that didn't effect any of us as we ran around the neighbrohood playing ghost in the graveyard.
Now when I smell it, it smells so great to me. People think i am insane for that, but it brings me back to one of the best places I have ever been and what could be better than that?
After I read the story of The Rolling Pin, it instantly reminded me of the scent from green apple Suave shampoo. I remembered the summers with my mom in the beach, how we used to walk together along the shore and all the different seashells I would find. After splashing around I would go home and take a shower and use my mom’s shampoo, green apple Suave. I also remembered how we used to sit out in the porch after coming back from the beach and just talk about how beautiful the sunset was. The breeze would carry the scent of the green apple and it just smelled so fresh.
The scent just reminds me of summer itself. Of the rides at the fair, the horseback rides at the ranch, the swing my dad put on the tree. It also reminds me of all the afternoons I spent with my friends. How we would play hide and go seek in the afternoons while the adults would talk about stories that we would one day tell our kids. Every time I go to the I try to buy that same shampoo and even if it’s winter it keeps bringing me back to those summer days when I wished the days would never end.
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