WEEK 2 WRITING ASSIGNMENT: The act of description.

For this assignment I chose to write about a table. At first I wrote about the specific table I was sitting at, but for my second try I decided to write more generally about a table. I was inspired mostly by the readings which were definitions of certain words, particularly those from Counter-Desecration. They managed to describe the word while also describing the essence of the word, something I tried to do with my original description and then my second description.

ORIGINAL:
A table. It is round, it is made of wood, it is a medium chestnut brown. It stands on four legs which sprout from a stem a foot off the ground, and the stem continues for one and a half more feet to give the table a height of 30 inches. I sit comfortably with both legs under the table, or one leg folded on my lap and the other on the floor, or legs crossed, or legs crisscross apple-sauce on the chair. I can also rest my feet on any of the legs sprouting from the bottom.

The table has a diameter of 38 inches. Five people, maybe six, can sit comfortably with a laptop or with food in front of them, although we often squeeze as many as eight people at this table. The round table has a ridge at its edge where the wood has been knocked and scrapped at random moments, where spilled coffee and milk has crusted and stained, where palms have discolored the soft round resting place. Across the surface of the table are scattered crumbs, spilled salt, books and water bottles. A stain of spilled coffee rests across from me, completely dry now. The edges are dark and raised, and the deep brown fades into the lighter wood. The table is shinier there. Various dents and chips scatter the surface. There are many, from years to metal and hands and glass accidentally scraping down. Who knows what else.

This table is where we convene to eat, to debate, to relax, to catch up. The table is where we come together, each of us in our own personal space with a comfortable barrier between us, but we connect through words and comfort and proximity. We connect through sharing the barrier, understanding the distance that does not diminish the connectedness.

REVISION:
This table. It is circular, made of wood, a light mahogany brown. It stands on four legs which sprout from a stem a foot off the ground, and the stem continues for one and a half more feet to give the table a height of 30 inches. I sit at ease with both legs under the table, or one leg folded on my lap and the other on the floor, or legs crossed, or legs crisscross apple-sauce on the chair. I can also rest my feet on any of the legs sprouting from the bottom.

This table has a diameter of 38 inches. Five people, maybe six, can sit in content with a laptop or with a plate of food in front of them, although we often squeeze as many as eight people at this table. The round table has a ridge at its edge where the wood has been knocked and scraped at random moments, where spilled coffee and milk has crusted and stained, where palms have discolored the worn round resting place. Across the surface of the table are scattered crumbs, spilled salt, books and water bottles. A stain of spilled coffee rests across from me, crusted dry now. The edges are dark and raised, and the deep brown fades into the lighter wood. The table is shinier there. Various dents and chips scatter the surface. There are many, from years of metal and fingernail and glass accidents. Who knows what else.

This table is where we convene to eat, debate, relax, and catch up. This table is where we come together, each of us in our own personal space with a comfortable barrier between us, but we connect through conversation in proximity or chewing in proximity. We share the barrier, as our platform.

VERSION 2:
A table is a physical manifestation of function and convergence. It is a solid object at which multiple people can sit, or just one who may be joined by others, or just one who needs a resting place. It is often used as a platform, a surface for people to do work or eat or converse. A table is typically at the center of a room, or near a window, depending on its usage. It is considered necessary in classrooms, in dining rooms, in places of comfortable sedentary activity. It is often accompanied by chairs. The chairs should fit under the surface of the table, so that people can sit on the chair and use to surface of the table for their task. People often sit at tables so they can put things on the table, but sometimes that tables serves just as a meeting place.

You can sit across from one another at a table, leaning forward on the surface so your attention is focused on the other person. A table provides a tangible platform for intangible connection, through conversation or food or closeness or eye contact. You can sit next to each other at a table. Perhaps your legs gently touch under the surface or you brush shoulders. Perhaps you crumple up to fit into your personal box at the table. You share the space of the table with the other, intentionally or not.

We often feel flickers of annoyance at singles who hog a table, especially in a crowded room. Probably because we feel flickers of hesitation to share intimate space with strangers. Funny how we flick annoyance at those who flick discomfort in us of our own accord.