Process Notes:

I was originally going to make a poster or banner of some kind that had a kind of Giving Tree vibe about a mom and greedy children. However, the whole nature-is-a-mother-we-are-taking-advantage-of form of environmental awareness is so played out, especially in my writing. 

I thought the Bread and Puppet Theatre stuff we looked at was awesome, so I tried my best shot at making a how-to kind of like the one we read. Deciding what “how to’s” I wanted to add was the most difficult part of making this because I wanted issues/guides that felt relevant, but I could still write in a sort of sarcastic tone. I wanted to have a mix of drawings and words so that it still felt like a visual poem rather than something I could have just typed up. 

(Hopefully the file uploads properly. Fingers crossed.)

HowYouCanSaveThePlanet

The alienation effect – or at least the attempt to create it – is a very new way of thinking about looking at / depicting the world for me. Rather than trying to imitate life and the attitudes we have about it like pretty much every movie I have ever seen, this technique looks at situations from a viewpoint that most might overlook. In this way, an attempt to achieve the alienation effect is an attempt to defamiliarize. By defamiliarizing everyday life, we can bring about political discourse from a myriad of angles, from “the man” looming over head to the little things that tick us off on our way to work. When we take a second look at everything, even the the mundane, we can bring about discussions that have been swept under the rug or have never even seen the light of day. 

The way Brecht described the alienation effect, I understood a large aspect of it to be looking at the world with an unfamiliar eye. When talking about social change, I think this aspect is very important. This forces us out of complacency. It reminds us to look at our society from (for lack of a better term) an outsider’s point of view. This forces us to see the things we put up with regularly as they truly are, worms and all. 

I understood “the old art of poetry” to be a kind of call to action. The book invites people to start looking at the world through the eyes of people such as the Chinese actors, Brecht and Schumann. This is done by discussing the silence of puppetry in parallel with political complacency. The reader must look at their own views on the world and if they are the views they really want to have.

The winding roads around Lake Springfield are especially green at the beginning of summer. They meander around the water, from open prairie to where the trees wrap shadily around the road, keeping the asphalt cool. At night, the lights from City Water, Light and Power reflect off the black water, making it almost like you are standing above the stars. On this lake there is a little zoo that is closed at night, but has public parking. 

My dark green truck pulled into the parking lot of the Henson Robinson Zoo after she had suggested we stop to roll. The paint was beginning to fall off the gate we had parked in front of. A chain was hung across with an orange sign that read “closed.” In all honesty, that sign was not going to stop anyone from entering illegally, but who on Earth is going to try to break into a public zoo in Rochester, Illinois? 

I have not been here for a long time. As a kid, I loved the animals. Australia, Africa, Asia, North and South America. Over eighty species native and exotic living together in the zoo. Koi fish swim in a bond just feet away from a barn where children can feed goats and pet cows. The Zoo Choo Train comes around every fifteen minutes. Peacocks are allowed to just roam around the grounds. In elementary school, how could you not love that?

But, with age comes reality. Now, with smoke in my lungs and a few years under my belt, Henson Robinson only makes me sad. I am sad not because this zoo is dying (though I do fear for the ultimate fate of the animals). I am sad because even in its hay day, the Henson Robinson Zoo was hodge podge of good intentions but poor execution. Eagles with roofs over their heads. Bobcats whose only exercise is walking to and from the food bowl. Crocodiles in ponds that dried up weeks ago. 

Despite the suffering it causes, I find it difficult to find any emotion other than pity for the zoo. It catalyzed my passion for the Earth and her creatures. It is the reason I am sad. 

Process Notes: 

This assignment was more difficult than I had initially anticipated it to be. What I struggled most with was to think of a story from my past that had some weight to it and also had something to do with my chosen topic- climate change. I realize that a rundown zoo is not directly related to climate, but I think this piece touches on the way human beings treat nature and could maybe be worked into something that addresses the globe as a whole. I originally tried to make this as impersonal as possible, but I could not get what I was trying to say across without introducing some first person. If I were to continue this piece for my final project, I’m wondering what might work– specific stories/pictures from the zoo? If you have any ideas on how I could tie this into something about human impact on climate, I am all ears!

When reading The Undying I was struck by the way Boyer’s writing is so personal and so dehumanizing. That is to say, she takes the reader on the journey of her illness with her, allowing them to experience events as she does. The reader gets to hear her internal thoughts, but they are never overly emotional. She writes with a kind of dry tone that reminds me of Carmel, and it works really well with the everyday-ness of what she writes about. The dehumanizing aspect of medicine is made very clear by the way Boyer describes her treatment. She is constantly being poked, prodded and quantitatively evaluated as if her caregivers do not even see her as a human being. This is made obvious when she describes a cancer patient’s name and birthdate as equivalent to a barcode. This lack of empathy displayed by the medical world made me really upset as they are supposed to be people you can turn to when there is nowhere left to go, or at least in an ideal world. This is highlighted by the way Boyer describes the medicine she is given. Drugs people typically describe as “miracles” and “lifesavers” she describes as honestly as possible- poison. Despite all of the pain and suffering throughout this book, there is a courageousness to these women that can only be seen as admirable. One instance that stuck out for me was the story about Fanny Burney’s unanesthetized mastectomy was undeniably hard to read, but extremely inspiring.

The works by Ruskin this week were really interesting to me. I first read the lecture about clouds and I was immediately struck by the tone it was written in. I had not realized how personal a lecture could be. Despite having this personal tone, he manages to write a lecture with a more than clear message. I was especially struck by the way he used anecdotal evidence to compound statements made after repeated observations. This balance makes a lecture about clouds an actually fun read. 

The second Ruskin work was the open letter ‘Fors Clavigera.’ This piece had a personal feel as well but was much more intimate than the first. In saying that I mean, the letter felt more like a conversation, rather than a friendly explanation. This conversational feel is brought on by a couple of aspects of the letter. The first thing I noticed was how little Ruskin explains the points he is trying to make or the references that he makes. The reader is expected to know these things as shared knowledge with the author. This is very different from the way he writes the lecture, explaining every little point he brings up and a footnote for each reference made. The second aspect that makes the letter feel more intimate are the frequent tangents he goes on, sometimes only using a seemingly unrelated point to justify a point he is making. These tangents feel like thoughts that may have been had as someone was daydreaming and gazing out a window. This intimate conversational tone allows for more emotional expression and a greater connection with the reader, while sometimes leaving the reader wanting more, which is not always a bad thing. 

Letter:

To Pigs, 

I remember driving behind you on my way to soccer games growing up. Your little wet snout stuck out of the oval hole in the multi-level semi trailer. You were loud and the fumes you guys gave off smelled pretty bad. Sometimes we could only hear you if it was too cold. But if it was hot, then almost every one of the hundreds of oval cut outs had an oinker sticking out. Lately, it’s been getting hotter it seems. I’ve always liked you guys. I remember wondering why you guys were always  in such a hurry. My mom would always point you out, drawing my attention from whatever else was outside the window. She always liked you, too. She did in fact grow up raising friends of yours. Come to think of it, it’s kind of funny. For how often we road the same roads, my mother never told me where you all were headed. Well I guess I’m too old to be living in denial any longer.

I couldn’t care less about the amount of calories I eat or the health benefits of going meatless. However, I could care a lot less about the health of the planet. Thus, I try to eat as little meat as possible, but Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken really is good. Plus, it’s only like five dollars for an entire bag. No, it’s not like I’m eating orange chicken out of a plastic bag. It’s frozen and takes just eight minutes to cook. It’s especially good if you make some of that ninety-second jasmine rice from Target. There’s usually enough for two people, but tonight there will be no leftovers. But when you’re eating something as tasty as this, there’s never any leftovers.. There’s never any leftovers… 

Okay, no more beating around the bush, I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry your destiny was determined at birth. I’m sorry that you are smarter than my dog, but only see the sun when you are headed to the gallows. I’m sorry that the misery you endure is only advancing the inevitable. 

An aspiring vegan. 

[A lecture on the price of meat]

You should not stop eating McDonald’s, or animal products in general, if you are trying to be healthier. Unless of course your concern is for the health of others. 

Despite what the label might say, your hot dog was not “organically grass fed” or “humanely raised.” Chuck1 was. He was the cow who was turned into your hot dog. Before he was blended into his now cylindric form, Chuck was walked away from the pen he had lived most of his life in. There he had become accustomed to grain coming thrice a day, blood tests, antibiotics, tubes connecting massaging and extracting from his undercarriage (no, he did not have utters), etc. He was walked along a roofed ramp, specially designed so he could only see the cow in front of him. No need for a stampede. 

After about an hour, his half-mile walk was finally over. He was led into a dark room where he was finally alone for the first time in his life. The silence was almost unnerving until he felt cold metal pressed against his forehead. That was the final memory Chuck had. He lived just long enough to be hung upside down by chains so that a ranch hand could open his neck from ear to ear. They say he died painlessly, but how did he live?

This story is not unlike countless others, across states and species. In a time seemingly filled with cruelty, what are we gaining from all of these lives lost? Well, we gain one calorie of edible meat produced by livestock, for roughly every ten calories of feed they are forced to consume. We gain the realization that over half of the land used for agriculture in the US is used for livestock, and even more is used to feed those animals. We gain a week’s worth of meat for the same amount of water needed to produce a year’s worth of bread. Commercial farming is a cruel circus which tortures its performers while it slowly kills the blissfully ignorant audience. Even I can admit it is difficult to give up McDonald’s, but I promise veggie burgers are not all that bad. 

1: sub-prime cut of beef 

Process Notes: 

This week I tried my best to have a more pointed focus to my writing. One other than simply “climate change.” The idea for the letter came to me when I was eating orange chicken while trying to write the responses to the readings this week. I realized what a hypocrite I was being by talking about the climate so often while at the same time perpetuating one of the leading causes of greenhouse gas emissions– commercial farming. This left me with a weird feeling that I tried to convey in the letter while also trying to make it clear that the real focus was on climate change/farming. 

My goal for the lecture was to try to give someone another reason to maybe try going vegetarian, other than just climate change. It is much easier for people to picture a living animal than a changing climate and if an emotional response can be brought out, the reader is all the more likely to try vegetarianism, ultimately helping the planet. 

I really enjoyed the way Long Soldier’s voice came through in her poetry. I found the emotions within the poem Wakĥályapi (sorry. google docs didn’t have the proper “h” character) particularly palpable. This poem uses the definition “anything that is boiled” and repeatedly gives examples starting with “As in…” which reminded me of the reading we did last week. In this poem, there is a slow build up of anger in the written language that eventually evolves into a rage, not unlike the act of boiling a pot of water. This feeling is brought on by her use of word repetition (i.e. “boiling and boiling…”) and variations in sentence length. This feeling of rage then transitions into a sadness, kind of like taking the pot off of the fire. Upon repeat readings, it becomes unclear whether it truly was rage the speaker was feeling in the beginning or if it was sadness the entire time, which I really enjoyed. I’ve always liked poetry that shifts in the feelings it produces and this poem for some reason really scratched that itch.

Official Document Poetic Exercise 

Link: https://nca2018.globalchange.gov/downloads/NCA4_Report-in-Brief.pdf

I found it pretty interesting how Agee composed the photos at the beginning of the book. Before any explanation, it was clear that these were three separate families before Agee told us such. It reminded me of Sabrina in how the pictures move in and out of these families’ lives, usually starting with an establishing shot of their homes.
His writing gives life to these pictures of people who otherwise may have been lost in history. He does this by writing truthfully about their situations and treating them with the respect famous people throughout history have received. The amount of detail he gives juxtaposes the lack of explanation in the pictures. In regards to the question regarding ethics of this kind of documentation, I am kind of torn. On one hand, if it were my life being documented, I may feel a great invasion of privacy if a stranger from the north came to take pictures of me and my family as we struggle. On the other hand, I feel like if it is to be done, Agee did it in the right way. He stayed with the families for an extended period of time and got to live with each of them intimately. He embraced their ways of life in an effort to truthfully capture what these people in “deplorable circumstances” were experiencing. With that being said, he uses fictional names and he recognizes himself as an outsider. In doing this, he shows respect for the sharecroppers as they are more than just subjects to write about, but human beings.

In the House (that wasn’t our first house, but the house) I Grew Up In

House

It’s the one on the corner with the flagless flagpole. The sides are wonky with bricks poking out this way and that. It seems the architect had taken artistic liberty. It’s okay, my cat likes to climb the bricks and sunbathe. A stone moat surrounds the castle as weeds sparsely break the surface only to be uprooted and thrown into the trash. Years ago I actually had to shovel that driveway around this time of year. It’s sunny right now, so you can’t see through the windows. The lights won’t be on at night either. 

Sounds

It’s quieter now that (s)he’s gone. Less arguing. It makes going to sleep easier. Sometimes at night I hear the *clack* *clack* of my dog’s claws as she slumps across the kitchen tile in search of a cooler place to lay. 

Holidays

We can’t light the fireplace, gas is too expensive. My sister wants to, she says it’s part of the spirit. How can a fireplace put us back into the spirit? Especially since the window’s have been open since (s)he left. 

Temperature

Have you ever turned the hot water on so hot that it started to feel cold?

Meals

I eat on the couch. My left arm drapes over the side as my right manipulates the fork. My cat sits next to me purring as I feed him a piece of my dinner. I hit the clicker. It’s the episode when Dwight pretends to be recyclops and destroys the office. This is the third time I’ve watched The Office all the way through. The first time was the best because we all watched it together. I remember your laugh. 

Sleep

It’s funny how silence can be so loud and make you sweat. I need to open a window. 

Process Notes:

I guess I have settled on climate change as my topic for this quarter. With that being said, it is still a weekly struggle for me to find ways to make the issue seem relatable to me, let alone the reader. For this assignment I tried to leave climate change in the background. This was done to not only make the reading a little more personable, but also to highlight exactly how climate change is affecting the Earth. Everyone goes through trials and tribulations, some big and some small, that may take up all of our attention. Everyday, while we are distracted, there is a terminal illness that is looming over all of us that few people choose to give mind too.