Valentine’s Day & Homemade Cards

Valentine’s Day: a day some adore and others abhor. Oh, and a holiday that sends Hallmark cheering for joy. Some couples use Valentine’s Day to express their love, whether it be through gifts or a romantic dinner. For them, celebrating Valentine’s Day may include exchanging chocolates and a night out on the town. For others, Valentine’s Day may evoke mixed feelings due to increasing commercialization and the need to show off; however, the night is not exclusive to couples or expensive gifts.

Valentine’s Day can be a great way for people of all ages to show appreciation for loved ones, like friends and family members. In recent times, the day before Valentine’s Day has even been termed “Galentine’s Day” in celebration of girl friends. For children, the holiday often means school parties and heart-shaped cookies. Some of my fondest memories from elementary school include those of making card boxes out of shoe or cereal boxes and exchanging cards with my peers. Cards may have included candy, stickers, or temporary tattoos. Yet, my favorite cards were those made out of construction paper, adorned in Elmer’s glue, glitter, and stickers. To this day, I find handmade cards a great to show your appreciation for someone without breaking the bank.

While the thought of making a card may seem juvenile or daunting, it can be a fun, easy way to show someone you care. If you don’t want to spend the money or can’t find a store bought card to your liking, handmade cards are perfect for sending the ideal message to your friend, family member, or significant other. Taking a little time can result in a heartfelt gesture that demonstrates your love and care. Do you want something funny? Add a meme or a pun. Would you rather have a card a little more meaningful? Write a poem or a message. Adding in a cheesy note or other form of personalization can make the card extra special, and if you can’t come up with anything, Pinterest and Google have plenty of examples for some inspiration. With handmade cards, you are free to do whatever pleases you. This year, I added some puns on the back of my cards relating to my friends’ favorite candies (with some attached, of course). Below are the fronts of some of my cards.  However you celebrated Valentine’s Day – or perhaps you didn’t – I hope you had a great one (and that you enjoy the upcoming discounted candy)!

Kurt Vonnegut: A Different Kind of Fiction

If you haven’t read anything by Kurt Vonnegut, what have you been reading? That might sound bold, but if you’ve read Kurt Vonnegut, you know where I’m coming from. For me, its a combination of his dry and satirical humor and his unique way of presenting a moral that set him apart. In this context I’ll be focusing on three books: Slaughterhouse-five, Cat’s Cradle, and Mother Night, which I all wholeheartedly recommend. This is also the order in which I first read them, and approaching them linearly will hopefully help you follow my train of thought.

I first read Slaughterhouse-five my senior year of high school, outside of my English class, and I ended up finishing it in two days. For a fictional book that combined seemingly mutually exclusive topics such as war, time-travel, and aliens, I wasn’t expecting to like it. To be honest, I only picked it up because I knew it was a classic and that it was frequently referenced in literary culture. However, I was surprised by the unique writing style of Kurt Vonnegut; there is something so genuine and authentic about how he tells a story. He doesn’t seem to care so much about plot holes and accuracy, but more about the overall message of the story, and that was so different than what I was used to (considering intricate books such as The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien). Slaughterhouse-five was especially good at displaying how Kurt Vonnegut uses dry humor to understand humanity in the face of tragedy. A common phrase in the book is “so it goes”, in reference to everything from the end of the universe to the absurd and irrational murder of the protagonist’s companion. At first this sentiment just appears cynical, but after you finish reading you understand what Kurt Vonnegut is really trying to say: in the face of senseless human tragedy, humor is a way to cope with the truth, and to ultimately shift focus to the beautiful parts of existence.

Next I read Cat’s Cradle, and if I thought the plot of Slaughterhouse-five was bizarre, this book took it to another level. The main plot point is the existence of a dangerous material called ice-nine that turns any liquid into ice. However, the story follows a simple protagonist named John and his strange journey that eventually converges with the story of ice-nine. It also features a strange island with an outlawed religion called Bokononism, which is central to the themes of the book. Essentially it is a nihilistic and cynical religion, and Kurt Vonnegut uses it as a punching back to criticize the concept of religion as a whole. In doing so, Vonnegut expands beyond the traditions and beliefs of religion and reveals a human element in understanding life. Through his character development and use of humor, he shows how absurd humanity is, while simultaneously showing how the journey is more important than the destination. Even if everything ends in tragedy, as things often do when people are involved, the story is what teaches us how special it is to be human. This alternative perspective on life is so genuine in Kurt Vonnegut’s writing that you almost forget you were reading fiction.

Last but not least (in fact to many it is Kurt Vonnegut’s best work) I read Mother Night, a story about a spy named Howard W. Campbell, Jr. who works for the U.S. during World War II as a German propaganda radio host. After the war he is put on trial for war crimes, and the book is written as he is living in an Israeli jail. This is the least bizarre of the three books, featuring a pretty straightforward plot and only a few outrageous people and events. This book is also unique in another way, as shown by the first lines of the book:

“This is the only story of mine whose moral I know. I don’t think it’s a marvelous moral; I simply happen to know what it is: We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.”

Having already read Slaughterhouse-five and Cat’s Cradle, this was a surprise to say the least. I loved Kurt Vonnegut because he didn’t hold your hand and spoon-feed you the moral of the story like other fiction writers, he made you work for it. I can only speculate why he did this, but after I finished reading the book I realized that this was only one of the morals. Perhaps he was just being ironic, because he knew that this wasn’t the full truth. Although this is definitely a lesson from the book, the true moral is revealed in the same way as the other two books: through his authentic characters and ability to draw profound truths from fiction. I don’t want to spoil the ending, so I won’t, but after I finished reading, I had no idea what I felt. The ending was tragic to say the least, but it went deeper than that; it wrestled with concepts of guilt and justice in the most profound way. Similar to Slaughterhouse-five and Cat’s Cradle, he managed to show the complexity of humanity and also challenge our pre-held conceptions of what it means to be alive. It’s a moral that you can’t put into words because it’s so universal that it doesn’t exactly mean one thing. Kurt Vonnegut’s writing almost transcends traditional literature because he offers an entirely new perspective on life. Overall, after reading all three books, I feel as if Kurt Vonnegut is an entirely new kind of fiction: one that leaves the conventions of the genre and instead recognizes what makes it so powerful to begin with. I definitely recommend all three books, and I hope you can see the importance of his writing as I do. As for myself, he’ll always be on my list of favorite authors, and I hope to read more works by him in the future.

2019 Oscars

The beginning of the year is known in Hollywood as the award season.  Where is seems like every week there is a new award show on TV. The most popular being the Emmys, Tony’s, Grammy’s, and the Oscars.  Each of these four popular award shows are based on a different category of entertainment: Television, Broadway, Music, and Movies. There is more than one award show for each category, these are just the most popular and seen as the most prestigious.

The Oscars seems to be the biggest award show out of the four, with movie stars coming from all over just to be at movies biggest night.  The Oscars gives awards for a large variety of categories from movie scores, to costumes, to the more common categories like best actress and actor.  Most people only seem to know about the “bigger” categories because those are the only ones broadcasted on television. Most of the other awards are done beforehand and are not shown.

The Oscars also has awards for different types of films.  There is the biggest award of the night, “Best Feature”, and there are also best animated film, best short, and best documentary just to name some examples.  

Generally the public has not seen the majority of the films nominated for Oscars, but it seems that this has changed a little in recent years.  For example “Black Panther” and “A Star is Born” are both nominated for best picture. “Black Panther” was one of the most successful movies of 2018.  Most people still have not seen the best documentaries or the best shorts nominations. However, the Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor is playing all of the Oscar nominated best shorts and best documentaries.  This can give people a chance to go and see them before the Oscars, and it gives the opportunity to see something that most people would not have the chance to see otherwise.

lost words instead of last words.

Have you ever come across a word that was lost to modern English? Or a word that can’t be translated from another language? Today I found a few that made me forget to breathe.

Of Welsh origin, hiraeth (n): a longing, or nostalgia, for a home that never was.

As unspecific as this feeling seems, the human condition dictates that it resides somewhere in everyone. It’s dark and pitted: something that we all feel but never talk about. Deeply hidden and elusive, a sort of emptiness that knows no remedy.

Of Olden English origin, uhtceare (v): lying awake before dawn and worrying.

All I can say about this one is: thank (God is a woman) I’m not the only one.

It’s been so discouraging to hear so many accounts of the calmness associated with dawn. I battle with the idea that the second you wake up is the easiest, when the fullness of reality hasn’t woken itself up yet to greet your opening eyes. What happens if there is no moment of peace? What if you start the day in suffocation?

Of French origin, sillage (n): a lingering wake of fragrance.

Smells are the some of the strongest triggers for memory and emotion, which is why this word speaks well past the notion of perfume. Different than every other sensory stimulus, smells are able to bypass thalamus integration and go straight to the olfactory bulb in your brain next to the amygdala and hippocampus, which house emotion and memory centers. This close proximity and strong association is no coincidence.

Smell is like a beautiful ghost. A benevolent reminder of what used to be.

Of Argentinian origin, mamihlapinatapai (n): two people looking at each other hoping the other will do what both desire but neither is willing to do.

Too familiar for you? Me too. Forethought and anticipation and desire hanging in the air. You entertain the thought of lust for a second, playing out chances that this is the moment it happens, knowing that they’re thinking it too. The seemingly unbreakable, yet fleeting eye contact is followed by the sickening realization that this might be all you ever have.

As a student in the performing arts, I’m a firm believer in the existence of meta-language. Some things just cannot be described by words alone which is why film, visual arts, dance, and music illicit such different reactions than the literary arts.

Today I was proven wrong.

a few needful poems

If you don’t read much poetry, I would highly recommend these poems– they’re beautiful and poignant, and impart a deep trove of wisdom on the subtleties of race relations in America in such a small amount of space. 

“Theme For English B” by Langston Hughes

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47880/theme-for-english-b

When his white instructor prompts their class to write something that comes out of them naturally, Hughes questions what it means to write something truthful or authentic about himself, especially when the world often shapes how he views himself. The poem gets to its central conflict of the definition of the self when Hughes questions, “So will my page be colored that I write?/ Being me, it will not be white./ But it will be/ a part of you, instructor./ You are white–/ yet a part of me, as I am a part of you./ That’s American.” Essentially, he is proposing that though he has a different background than his instructor, they are both part of each other and the larger American narrative, whether they like it or not. Though this is true, Hughes still acknowledges, at the end of the poem, that there are still power imbalances in place that make equal and open exchange of ideas difficult: “As I learn from you. I guess you learn from me–/ although you’re older– and white–/ and somewhat more free.”

“Meeting A Stranger” by Sharon Olds

https://muse.jhu.edu/article/505268

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3w_uaeYJi7c (this is her reading the poem– she’s spectacular at performing her poetry, so it’s worth a watch)

This poem is from the perspective of a white person painfully aware of the connotations of being served by a black woman in a restaurant in the contemporary world. She begins the poem by discussing how the two of them meeting– Olds, a white woman, and this stranger, a black woman– is unequivocally joined by their mothers and fathers and “what they might have/ thought of each other”, and by their people and how they must have historically interacted with one another. She says that these ghosts of their pasts are faint– “quivers of reflected/ light on a wall”, but their presence is palpable. This poem is not from the perspective of a minority black person reflecting on their messy slew of identities working with and against each other, like in “Theme For English B”; rather, this poem is from the perspective of a white woman who recognizes her privilege and the American history that has allowed her– nay, rewarded her– for her ignorance of the suffering of African American peoples. Whether or not the history is so obvious in the room is not truly the question here– rather it is that she is recognizing it and taking responsibility for it.

“Poem For the Young White Man Who Asked Me How I, an Intelligent Well-Read Person, Could Believe in the War Between Races” by Lorna Dee Cervantes

http://aspotlightoflornadeecervantes.blogspot.com/p/poem-for-young-white-man-who-asked-me.html

This poem is loosely addressed to a young white man, though the address is not as personal and intimate as it is in Olds’ “Meeting a Stranger”. There is something defiant, pained, and outraged about the tone of the poem, as though the whole thing is just an trembling, explosive tirade against the young white man’s ignorant comment. It does not carry the contemplative, semi-idealistic, ruminating tone that is prevalent in Hughes’ and Olds’ poems. In the last part of the poem, Cervantes describes herself as “a poet/ who yearns to dance on rooftops” and enjoy and understand life. However, she says she is constantly reminded that “this is not/ my land/ and this is my land.” The last few lines of the poem bring back its central question: Cervantes concludes that although there may not be a war on races specifically labelled in that way, there is certainly still unrest and dispute– “there is war”.

the mundane everyday

The alarm blares out into my pillow, muffling the sound just enough so my roommate doesn’t awaken to it. One, two, three, fifteen minutes and I’m up, toasting my imaginary bagel – actually I eat bread- and making coffee before my first 10am. It’s another day, just like it is for the rest. 

Nothing wildly interesting permeates through the diag air. It’s more like a fog of routine and looming exams descending upon everyone, slowly. It chokes for some, for others it compresses us of our oxygen, but we are ready. We’ve seen this coming

Inescapable. Inevitable. We all knew this was coming.

Maybe it is boring

Routine lectures

Routine checking our phones in class

Routine rushed hellos

Even the biting cold is routine. But I choose to observe these supposed mundane days, weeks, semester differently. For if we continue on this trajectory of only waiting for the weekend, spring break or summer to come, we won’t learn to be grateful for the small things.

At work today, he made my day. I’m pretty sure I was knackered by terrible weather and annoying obnoxious chatter before I came to work. All he did was say thank you and easily, easily I think “maybe not such a bad day after all”.

All I did was be polite and gave my best customer service by saying “You passed and you’re all set”.

Thank you stranger taking Gateway, for wearing your kindness with you into East Hall. For saying “thank you” as if I had a huge role in helping you attain that pass after 10 tries. I saw relief written on your forehead and you wore it like a winner.

These mundane days are extraordinary for its mundane-ness. The usual crowd that floods into the diag, hurriedly rushing to the next back-to-back. For regular squirrels that peek out here and there. For the condensation on my windows, sustaining my plants I’ve never watered since September.

Somehow they’re still alive.

 

(Rushed Hellos by Sarah Shu)