Schools and Rules are Tools for Fools-- Part II of IV

This is part of a four-part post about art and schoolwork. To see the introductory post, click here.

I mentioned that as a homeschooler, I am able to take classes this year that I almost certainly would not have the opportunity to participate in were I in public school. The first of these classes I would like to discuss is not really a class at all, but a discussion group for literature.

This discussion group is held at one of my friend's houses. Every Thursday, seven of us gather to have a really great, nearly entirely student led discussion about whatever work of literature we are currently reading together, drink tea, chat after the discussion, drink tea, talk about fandoms and writing, and drink tea. Did I mention the tea? We like tea.

I feel incredibly blessed to be surrounded by such a great group of like-minded peers like this. We all are very interested in writing and reading. Many of us are actors as well. Our shared excitement for a good story and fascinating characters that can be related to is definitely perceivable in our discussions. (In fact, a few of us went to the children's section in a book store the other day, and we found ourselves discussing the characterization of Lucille from the Junie B. Jones series). Although we are definitely interested in all elements of a good story-- plot, pacing, setting, description, etc. --I think it is safe to say that it is the characters in a book hold the most interest for many of us. And we're all fans of Doctor Who, to cap it off. Really, I just love this whole group to pieces, if you couldn't tell already.

We have a wonderful adult facilitator who picks out books, provides discussion topics if we need them, and gently steers the conversation back on track when we deviate to topics such as gay rights, Doctor Who, human nature, Doctor Who, feminism, or Doctor Who. Other than that, the discussion is completely student led.

I believe that the thing that makes all this possible is that this 'class' is mandatory for none of us; we all really want to be there. In a public school, the discussion of literature in this fashion would probably be mandatory, which, depending on the group of students, could take a lot of the joy and purpose out of it. If just one person doesn't want to be in a class like this, they sort of put a damper on the whole group. It's not that large-scale education facilities really have a lot of choice in this matter; their job is to educate and broaden the horizons of as many people as possible, and I appreciate that the difficulty of this task increases with each additional student who walks in through their doors. But my point is, because of the small size of my group and the honest desire of each of us to ascertain more knowledge about the fascinating psychology of the crazy, terrible, wonderful, mad species known as human beings though the study of literature,  we are able to have some really fascinating, scintillating discussions.

So far, we have studied The Dead (James Joyce) and The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald). We are currently reading A Passage to India (E.M. Forster), which is a fascinating social commentary on the colonized India of the twentieth century. I'll spare you all my rants about each of these fascinating books. I admit that I probably would not have made my way through most of these stories without the relative structure of the group to answer to, as A Passage to India in particular can be a bit of a slog at first (it's worth it once you get to the middle, by the way). That's another thing the group is useful for. It really motivates me to finish a work I might not even have picked up otherwise, because if one of us doesn't do the reading, the discussion pretty much becomes pointless.

I'll end with one of my favorite quotes. "When I learn something new--and it happens everyday-- I feel a little more at home in this universe, a little more comfortable in the nest." --Bill Moyers. I'll admit that I have no earthly idea who Bill Moyers is or was or why he said that, but I think he's on to something. Stories are, and always have been, a way for us to explore our own humanity through the eyes of another: an author or a fictional character. Sometimes the view of an outsider is needed in order to let us see what should be obvious about our own lives, and that's something that stories (and art in general) gives to us.
 

Adventures in Haberdashery

I have an important announcement to make: Despite popular belief, I am not dead.

Due to my long hiatus from Singing Dragons, I have no doubt that this became the popular belief nationwide. I'm sure that my myriads of adoring fans have been utterly bereft without me. Well folks, I'm back, and I didn't actually die. So you can come out of mourning now.

What have I been up to, you ask, during this unnecessarily long hiatus? Well, dear reader, among other things, I have been making hats. My obsession with steampunk has only continued to assume greater heights while I've been away from this blog, and I have created two hats.

The first (my second-ever attempt at hat making, after the creation of a so-so fez) is the fascinator below, made of cardboard, hot glue, faux-leather, and some embellishments that were lying around the house.

That one turned out pretty well, so I made a small top hat next. It took a lot of black fabric, ribbon, hot glue, and episodes of Doctor Who to get it finished, but I did it! I used flowers, lace, a tiny compass, and some gears as embellishments.

~Naddie Boyne

Coolest. Furniture. Ever.

 

 

"Check out this awesome and stylish Vintage leather interior designed by LA Designs. I love how they have used many parts of the car to turn it into armchairs and even tables."

Found this on Tumblr. Who said furniture couldn't be art? This is the neatest combination of objects since the bunk bed ("I mean, it's a bed. With a LADDER! How cool is that?") 

~Naddie

P.S. By the way, I'm not really awake at 3:00 AM. I auto-scheduled this post. Right now, it's 7:16 PM on Friday. If I actually am awake eight hours from now, something has gone seriously wrong with my life.

Camping Quotes

For those who don't know, I belong to the most epic Girl Scout troop ever. Seriously. My Girl Scout troop (aka the Evil Minions for various and random reasons) means quite a lot to me. They are fun, positive, kind, diligent, and are willing to share their extra socks during a small hurricane in a campground in Pennsylvania.

Recently, we went camping. We got to stay in a large white tipi. Shortly after we arrived at our site, I decided to write down funny quotes people said in my journal. Well, throughout the course of the trip we collected quite a few. Some of the best are below (the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Whether or not I deliberately changed them to names of various companions in Doctor Who is for you to decide. Coincidences do and frequently happen.)

Our tipi smells like Christmas candles!
No one killed my father. Thank God.
My feet can fly!
We were encouraged to steal soap.
Hitler was a good artist until he decided that he hated Jews more than he loved art.
I love that there are three ukuleles on this trip!
I'm thinkin' Elmo with a mullet.
"Why did we bring such a huge pot?" "Because my mom told me that the little one was stupid."
If your cooking pot isn't smoking by now, you've done something wrong.
Why do the peas smell like Oreos?
The beauty queen is going to stuff her face now.
I will eat potatoes angrily in your general direction.
I hate it. I want to smother it.
What the HECK is in my pants?!
I'm starting to think that the idea of wearing pajamas all the time is a good one.
My brain is like "no! sleep is for the weak!"
I didn't clench, I just lightly grazed my teeth across your face.
Just hug her. She'll move.
That does not constitute a tickling emergency.
"WHAT is that THING!?" "Um, that's Martha."
I'm gonna go to war in my pajamas.
Either you love bacon or you're wrong.
Did you just spit into the wilderness?
It is possible that monkeys will fall from the sky and demand s'mores.
I'm like "yay, clothes!"
My soul has a bounce to it.
It's like I'm playing a weird, aquatic tuba.
It's like a python in the world of ponytail holders.
Isn't Donna's hair the best meal you've ever had? It's like dessert!
I have my own disgusting pile of disgustingness to finish.
I was bitten by a radioactive mustache. Now I'm cat woman by night.
My face hurts because he's so gorgeous! (In reference to the campfire that we named Benjamin).
You're sharing your chocolate with me, so I burned these three marshmallows for you!
Stop waltzing with Mr. Bunnypants!
"Is this sticky?" "I don't know. Let's run it across my face and see."
I'm known for my bendy face.
Wait, Sarah Jane? Did you just turn into Amy? WOW!
I feel like a middle-aged marshmallow man!
But how could you have tripped her if you didn't touch her?
But I had Rose in my head!
You could just tie a string to her ankle so you could follow her wherever she goes.
Let's just not listen to one another.

This is the sort of delightful madness that ensues in my troop.

~Naddie

Trash Cans, Procrastination, and Joseph Glidden

Four million African-Americans were freed from slavery due to a Union victory in the Civil War. The Solomon Island Leaf Frog has no tadpole stage but emerges from the egg as a fully-formed froglet. There are ten semitones in a diminished seventh, Joseph Glidden invented barbed wire in the late nineteenth century, and David Tennant played the Doctor for three seasons of Doctor Who.

...And you're probably wondering about now why on Earth I have just supplied you with a string of mildly interesting but almost certainly useless facts. Well, I'll let you in on a little secret. These facts are meant to have the same effect as a magician's flash of light or colored puff of smoke: I would like to distract you from what is actually going on here.

"What is actually going on here, Naddie?" you say. Well, dear reader, in response to your excellent question, you may have noticed that I haven't posted in a little while. Ok, fine, a large while. I had an excellent arsenal of excuses all ready to go, but I have decided to spare you the tedium of the precise nature of my procrastination and instead educate you with useless facts while simultaneously distracting you from my laziness. Two birds with one stone!

Oh, don't worry. I actually do intend to include some worthwhile content in this post, not only distractions, excuses and similes. And no, I'm not posting the waltz I wrote. Not yet. I still haven't figured out how to imbed a sound clip in a post (if you haven't guessed by now, my talents lie outside the perplexing realm of computers and technology). The waltz will have to wait a little longer. However, I recently became very bored quite late at night and the following writing resulted:

Six Good Reasons Why Every Room in Every House Ought to Have Two Trash Cans

1. You don't have to take out the trash so dreadfully often.

2. Each trash can needs another trash can to talk to. This is important. It can get to be terribly lonely, sitting there day after day while everyone's filling you up with trash. Only another trash can can really understand and sympathize with a trash can. Sometimes a really good actor wearing a convincing enough costume can do it, but it should be noted that this is not a good substitute for getting a second trash can for each room because most actors will not put up with sitting still all day while people throw things away in them.

3. If one of your trash cans gets burnt to ashes because some idiot thought it would be good fun to throw away a lighted match, then you've got a spare can all ready to go.

4. If you have to throw away something really big, you can cut it in half and share it between the two cans. Teamwork!

5. If you have a sudden urge to play a game of indoor soccer, pour out the trash from one can into the other. Then proceed to kick the empty can around the room until the game ends or you get bored or dizzy or all three.

6. If you are confronted with a bare light bulb, if you're at a New Year's party, or you find yourself for any other reason in need of an emergency lampshade, empty one trash can into another as discussed in reason #5. Then place the empty can on the light bulb or head. Note: This only works with lamps and cans that are of compatible sizes. Please do not attempt to place a very large trash can on an average-sized human head.

And thus I shall conclude this long-ish post. I hope to be able to post more often now, as many of my scholastic commitments this year have ended or are soon to do so.

~Naddie Boyne