An adventure for a poem

I came across this poem a while back, but it should remind us to always have adventures. It is by Mark Van Doren, a devout Catholic and legendary professor of English at Columbia back in the day. He taught Dr. John Senior, and (I believe) Paul Spring's father. I respect this man as a poet, teacher, and critic. This poem falls under "Adventure" poems; Van Doren has the muse in him, and it permeates his poetry

A Dream of Trains
Mark Van Doren

As long ago they raced,
Last night they raced again;
I heard them inside me,
I felt the roll of the land.
I looked out of a window
And I was moving too;
The moon above Nebraska,
Lonely and cold.

Mourned for all of the autumns
I had forgotten this:
The low hills that tilted,
The barrenness, the vast.
I think I will remember now
Until the end of the world
How lordly were the straightaways,
How lyrical the curves.

Art World

So, I recently joined the Society of American Mosaic Artists, which is everything you would imagine of mosaic geek central, but kind of exciting is that I am featured in the "members gallery:"

http://www.americanmosaics.org/cGalleryPage.aspx?id=MembersGallery&item=538

Also, the annual conference will be in Chicago conveniently in the fall, so I guess I am beginning my official endeavors into the art world!

SGA Update

For some reason, Fr. Flood approves of me, and I will be a dorm-daddy at SGA next year. A key part of the two-day interview, quoted verbatim:

Sunday, 24 May
Fr. Flood: "Do you smoke?"
John: "Yes... (Grinning and shaking his head, as if he can't believe the absurdity of his smoking) but, that won't be a problem."

Monday, 25 May
Fr. Flood: "I'm so glad that you don't smoke."

So! There it is. Right now, Luke is definitely coming back. Beebe and Archer are definitely gone. Schultz and Burger (Sp?) are not sure whether they'll be back or not. Please send some prayers my way if y'all can.
Oh yes, and rumor has it that JEK has met his future wife. Wild, huh?

Words of Wisdom from Dr. Louise Cowan

Recently many fellow English majors and I had the honour of spending the afternoon with Dr. Louise Cowan. The afternoon was filled with wine, laughs, and deep and intimate conversation. Dr. Louise, even in her old age, is energetic, quick witted, and extremely charming. In our three hour conversation (most of which we spent simply and truly listening - our last lecture, if you will, at UD) Dr. Cowan spoke with delight about the founding of our university and her contributions to it. Her mind! I can't believe, as Goldsmith says, "That one small head could carry all [s]he knew." What a delightful way to end our education: to have wine and cheese, carry on a meaningful exchange, and baske in the wisdom of the founder and designer of UD's Core Curriculum. Dr. Louise spoke of many mystical and ponder-worthy subjects, but of all, the remark which struck me most pointedly was concerning our time and place. She said that we are in an interesting time in the world, that we are "between myths," by which she meant that the "old myth" of the Englightenment, acquisition, conquest, and masculinity was dying, and that it seemed to her that the "new myth" emerging was one in which the feminine would be dominant. She spoke of equality without egalitarianism, as in Wordsworth's poem:

"The Rainbow"

My heart leaps up when I behold

A Rainbow in the sky:

So was it when my life began;

So is it now I am a man;

So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die!

The Child is father of the man;

And I wish my days to be

Bound each to each by natural piety.

In this poem, Dr. Cowan quoted that "The Child is father of the man," and that the truth in that lies in the worthiness of the child, rather than an actual hierarchy. The household is still intact, but there is a certain equality, which she believes will be part of the new myth. She seemed to hint that it would be our generation which would bring about this "new myth."
By the end, it seemed to me, that Dr. Cowan thought and acted and argued just like a UD student, only with much more charm, eloquence, and wisdom.
In the end, she listed a couple things that made me quite happy, which is that the greatest book in the world, which happens to be my favorite book, is The Brothers Karamozov, and that Andrew Marvell, my Junior Poet, is among the greatest lyric poets of all time. This, of course made a couple of us, whose poets had not 'made the cut,' sad. Shakespeare and Hardy did not make it. Sorry Mary Pat Jones and Mary Watson The shock of Shakespeare not being listed among the ten greatest lyric poets caused Mary Watson to question Dr. Cowan's judgement (and many of us were, if I am not mistaken) on Mary's side. Who messes with Shakespeare? Dr. Cowan, however, was most judicious and gracious in her response, which she e-mailed to Laura Papania a day or so later:

"Laura, I very much enjoyed meeting with your friends; they are lovely people. Sorry that I wasn't able to get to know them before they graduated. I worry, however, about all the unguarded things I said! When I'm around students, I feel so intimate that I don't hold anything back. Would you please see if you can find the young woman who sat on my right and did her "junior poet" project on Shakespeare? I'd like her to know that of course I consider him the greatest writer in the English language. The dramas grow richer the longer one knows them. I was referring to lyrics when I was a bit dubious about whether I'd place him among the ten greatest. The sonnets are magnificent; but they are really intellectual exercises, in a way. The lyric is such a fragile (though powerful) utterance that its "intimations of immortality" hardly stand up to the intellectuality of the sonnet form. But Shakespeare's sonnets are masterpieces; and they are my constant companions. It's just that they don't quite penetrate the mystical veil that the lyric penetrates. But I realize one would have to discuss this matter at more length. Anyhow, let her know that of course I place Shakespeare first in the English language! Best wishes to you in your future undertakings. Louise Cowan"

Dr. Cowan - 1
UD English majors - 0

In the end, I enjoyed the time spent there with Lady Louise, who gave us strong encouragement to continue to keep our minds active and not to squander our fought for education. And, is it me or did she mention the oncoming dark ages? And New York city is better than Boston, by the way.

Please share your memories, dear classmates.

Day 1 of summer,

Peter Bloch

Finals

There it is! The light at the end of the tunnel! I can almost taste it...freedom. One more final.

I'm here!

Bullet Points

When I grow up I will...

• eat more of those green things
• drink less
• stopchainsmoking
• drive safely and ethically (checkmark)
• read the newspaper - daily
• do my laundry more frequently than once a month
• shave my face (because I will have hair)

But since I'm young I can...

• eat grease-fests with John Sercer = bacon+bacon+eggs+grease+cheese
• just drink iced mochas in the capbar with my friends

• smoke a whole pack of cigarettes
• drive like a grandma -->
• read the gospel according to DRUDGE thrice daily
• just rotate the clothes in my laundry hamper to get clean clothes
• shave my face (because I have no hair)
• be on a boat :)

Hello Pete

I actually didn't read, so I don't know if I accept, "this blogger's terms of service," but I'll go ahead do so anyway.

Read this...

A Dissertation

Aurora Borealis, Aurora Australis *1

Tyler Blanski

We are, I am told, evolved *2 star powder:

The explosion, the exodus, the slow growth--

Our anatomy *3 is a little cosmology.*4

No wonder a firmament *5 fills the cerebrum: *6

Expanses stretch inside us, aromas, *7

Our thinking caps are knit by Mother Reason,

Person sets a match to the soma; *8

No wonder we wish our city lights,

The spirit of Claudius,*9 wouldn't

Curtain like a cloud *10 the night sky.

The epidermis *11 is not the terminus: *12

The soul outside-looking-in,

Inside-looking-out,

Moves back and forth,

Forth and back again,

In and out of the viscera: *13

We are permeable, *14 porous;

And, to some degree, the world within us

Is also the world around us

(we call his aura). *15

God walks in the garden,

In the cool of the evening;

His potter Spirit throws auricles, cleaving,

And blows upon the waters, breathing;

He roves upon the dawn.

_____

*1 a phenomenon of lights in the sky, caused by charged particles from the sun interacting with atoms in the atmosphere [borealis is from Latin via the Greek Boreas, the god of the north wind; australis is from the Latin, Auster, 'the south, the south wind.']; poetic/lit. "the dawn."

*2 to develop from simple to more complex over successive generations, often as a result of natural selection.

*3 the branch of science concerned with human body structure; the physical structure of a person.

*4 the science of the origin and development of the universe, esp. the "big bang theory," which combines observational astronomy and particle physics.

*5 the heavens or the sky, esp. when seen as a tangible thing; fig. a world viewed as a collection of people.

*6 the principal part of the brain, located in the front of the head, consisting of two hemispheres. It's responsible for the regular activity of the body and the integration of sensory and neural functions.

*7 a subtle, pervasive quality or atmosphere; a distinctive, pleasant smell.

*8 the body as distinct from the soul and mind.

*9 the antagonist in Shakespeare's Hamlet.

*10 a mass of condensed water vapor floating in the atmosphere; fig. a state or cause of gloom or worry.

*11 the outermost layer of skin cells.

*12 a final point in space or time; an end.

*13 the organs in the abdomen; the intestines.

*14 allowing liquids or gases to pass through it.

*15 an emanation surrounding a human body; the essence of an individual.

--
www.DaveyTalbot.com

I'm in an intro to Astro Physics class right now, so this is especially relevant to my life right now.

Graduation

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west;

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the deathbed whereon it must expire,

Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Sonnet 73

William Shakespeare

Albrecht Dürer, The Death of Orpheus pen and ink drawing, 1494