Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Nu- Works: Class Rotation

  There's something a bit surreal about making a post about a class in which you had to make a blog on that very same blog you created.

[Pretentious and esoteric joke]
   In Mrs. Jalilvand's class, we had the to create blogs, one of which is the very same one you are reading. As established in my previous post, blogs aren't exactly my area of expertise. There was a running theme of "Paul Baker's Examples of Form." The one we had to learn this time around was space, and how it pertains to either music, dance, visual arts, or theatre. My Nu-Works teacher, Mrs. Edmonson, had us explore space in a more theatrical manner, in that we had to use either comedy or tragedy to explore physical space. One of the other Nu-Works teachers, Mrs. Ward, had us explore space within the context of dance (in that we had to use different dancing and movement techniques to explore physical space). But perhaps the most interesting one would probably have to be the class by Mrs. McWilliams, a singing teacher. We went through this strange transcendental meditation exercise. I guess we were exploring creative/imaginative space(?). McWilliams put on ambient music and told us that we were in a field. We went into a forest and found a cabin with many delicious items in it. We then leave the cabin with a box that was given to us by someone in said cabin. We were taken out of the scenario when we were told to open the box. After that little expedition, we were instructed to draw what we saw in the box, or draw the path we took through the whole scenario. I chose the box.

You have no idea how tempted I was.
  In said box, I saw a dead bird, a key with the number 843 on it, and a polaroid photo with the following written on it:

 Of course, none of this is to imply that we're just cycling through the examples of form without any specific end in mind. Now we're doing individual projects based on space in Mrs. Edmonson's class.
As of this writing, I plan to either write a monologue or do a (inevitably poor) drawing.

  I was very certain to hide my drawing from everyone else while I was drawing it. I didn't want to freak anyone out by drawing a dead bird with almost surgical precision. As little as I care about the opinion of others, I really didn't want to risk a trip to a therapist's office because I didn't draw something happy and bright like a kitten, or some money, or some trite, cloying Hallmark greeting card slogan that you would find in the gift shop of a hospital or something.

"Can you help me? I looked all over the place, but I couldn't find any cards to celebrate my friend's first out-of-body existentialist experience."


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