Response to art

I totally love this class I’m taking. It’s a credit course for my early childhood, and elementary education B.A. I’m in my second year now. I totally love it but I’m exhausted, and lord dam, you better spend some money. University art classes are way up there! So we are assigned weekly reading to which we have to respond in form of a blog. (What I do best!)

Here’s my response to Barnes’ “Teaching art to young children: the value of art”:

When Barnes says “art is a way of knowing”, I think he means that it’s something which comes natural to us. If we look at history, we can observe how thriving nations and peoples have used art as a form of expression of their culture and their experiences. Now, it seems like all the art and creative energy is being stifled out of us because it doesn’t seem to prove to be necessary or as smart or as serious; it’s just that it’s not taken seriously.

Isn’t it human nature for us to ignore the things that may be good for us even if it can’t be proven?

Not everything can be measured or categorised. Nevertheless, I’m sure it does get challenging to grade art, so thankfully other grading techniques could be used. For example, narrative grading, which is writing comments about students’ achievement or progression, instead of using a letter, number, or a percentage grade, could be used.

There are things that we can learn as children creating art that we can’t learn from Math. Art is the one of few subjects where anything and everything is possible. that’s called freedom. It’s like a medium for unspoken philosophy. According to the Bloom’s Taxonomy scale, art requires a higher forms of intellectual skill (Like creating, evaluating and analyzing), whereas Math requires a lower level of intellectual skill (like remembering, understanding, or applying). Ironically, there are six levels of the taxonomy and math took the lower three levels of intellectual skill.

There are no right or wrong answers with art. Math on the other hand is so much more rigid, and not everyone can handle that. It’s not like our real and complete intelligence can be measured by a math test, only a developed (or underdeveloped) aspect of our cognitive ability. 1+1 is always 2. There is no argument about what it means, it just is. I feel like we live in a world that only wants to see the black and white of things…when in fact there are many, many shades of grey 😉 or any colour you can think of. Why not see the creative side of things? This is not original, but I want to say, 1+1= window. The first time I heard that little “joke” (if you want to call it that I thought it was strange, creative and funny, but now going deeper I think )of it as looking out of the window of objectivity to subjectivity — to the dream world where everything is possible–; to the abstract nature of what art can be, or what we know art to be.

On a side note, I think that the sum “window” could be a metaphor for math as a box. Nothing gets out, nothing goes in. That doesn’t help anyone. Our society seems to have a need for conformity and I think that art defies that sameness. No two scribbles are the same. Isn’t that kind of awesome?

 

Uncertainty in love

God, what am I doing? 

I miss him, but I am pushing him away. I love but I don’t want him. Even though he’s perfect. Even though he is good for me.

What do I do?

I’m not ready to put those pieces back together. Not now. Not right now.

What if I can’t love him like I should? What if there’s no more room in my heart for there to be broken pieces?

On my own, I feel complete. I feel great. I feel perfect. Of course I wonder if a relationship is what I truly want.

Today my friend Cati and I spoke about relationships and what it meant to be a parent. She has been married for years, but had chosen not to have children. Recently, she had discovered that she could no longer conceive due to some condition in her womb. She told me that having a baby changes the relationship. Sometimes for better or for worse. She gave me a scenario about a friend who just went through a divorce. The child was having difficulty adjusting to the change of not having her daddy around. It was hard for the mother, too, for she still loved this man very much; sometimes relationships don’t work out, but it’s hard when you have to see them so often for the child’s sake. She cannot forget him if he is always before her.

Babies change relationships. You roll the dice and see what you get. Am I willing to risk my body, risk investing 9 months into someone and their offspring only to find out that nothing has come out of it? No. I don’t think so.

I don’t know why, but I seem to see myself as a single mother. Maybe because my mother raised me as one. I could get married, though. But I’m very independent. Oh, What’s the point of love if it doesn’t matter? If it only lasts so long?

Why should I waste my time? Why do I feel the pain when I think of hurting him? I know that no man is perfect. Why do I keep asking him to wait? Why won’t he leave me? I’ve done him wrong before. And I was sorry. So sorry.

I just can’t understand the reasoning of my heart.

I had a dream about a man. It was a sensual dream. I walked into the house and he was there. I lay down. He lay down with me. Our legs intertwined, caressing and whispering sweet words of forever. No more. No less. 

I can’t lie, I miss the intimacy of loving a man, of holding his brokenness with delicacy– with which only a woman could be trusted– touching the wounds only a woman can heal.

But what about my wounds? Why should I look after another when I am still here, waiting for love of self? I cannot give if I do not have.