A friend of mine is a photographer studying at FIT, and she recently told me she was inviting people she knew to write responses to her photographs. I looked at her portfolio online this evening, and I really like what she's doing, and there is one picture in particular that I think I could write about.
Oak Grove by Erin Kennedy
I think what it immediately speaks to me is some reminder of my childhood, growing up in rural southeastern Pennsylvania, rolling hills and farmland and new lower middle class housing developments, state parks and small towns, factories and outlets. Getting lost in the woods or wanting to, the dry autumn grass crunching beneath our feet, already tread by so many others, or laying down because of habit rather than footsteps. Small branches left where fallen. Owls and deer and country roads. All those trees older than I ever was. And ultimately, a feeling of tranquility that can be destroyed in an instant when adolescent girls reference legends and fear. I remember wanting to feel at ease and being absolutely unable to. Because of the wind, because of the bare tree limbs, the unobstructed view of the sky, the moon, the snow covered ground. The sound that might have been footsteps crunching leaves under.
But in terms of writing about a photograph, I feel as though I know very little. Funny that the more I read, the more I write, the more I research and absorb, the less qualified I feel to make a statement about anything at all. I mean, really, what do I know?
So, very quickly because I'm supposed to be working on a short story, here are a few things I've found about writing about photography:
http://uwp.duke.edu/wstudio/documents/photography.pdf
http://www.brown.edu/Students/Watershed/images/stories/pdfs/watershedissue5.pdf
http://interactive.usc.edu/members/akratky/W13_Camera_Lucida.pdf
On Photography by Susan Sontag
A Dozen Truths Every Writer Needs to Know About PhotographyBy ERNEST H. ROBL
"Though writing and photography are the two processes that fill up the majority of the editorial space in publications, few journalists manage to be successful at both because the two processes are not only fundamentally different, but also place different, often conflicting, demands on the practitioner."
- That seems as though it deserves more time than I have to give it at the moment.
As does the topic in general, but it's a start.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
bio
I wrote a little bio blurb for a friend of mine for an email announcement tonight, and it's got me thinking about - well, writing little bio blurbs. How does one condense (summarize) the sum of one's experience into a paragraph (summary) or even a few paragraphs?
It all depends on audience, of course, but taking that for granted for a moment, there are a few assumptions we can make about writing a blurb about a person. 1. We will not get everything in there. 2. Things will be left out. 3. There are ways of saying things that allow a phrase to tell the whole story, because 4. Assumptions will be made based on those few short sentences. Or long sentences. Long complicated sentences with lots of clauses, the structure of which the author probably attempts to vary in order not to sound boring and in turn making the person being bio'ed sound boring.
So now I might wonder how I would summarize myself (the little about me to the right of this post is super out of date - I'm not really on my way to a PhD, so why not amend it?), but in my current state of mind I'm wondering more who my audience would be. As I just alluded, I've decided not to apply to PhD programs again this year. Maybe next year, but there would be no point now - I haven't done anything new. I'm barely even writing, let alone publishing.
That is not to suggest that I haven't had a lot of experiences in the last year that have been beneficial, but they're not exactly cv-worthy. And that's fine.
But I'm at this point where I am writing cover letters, and I'm really bad at it. I've never liked my statements of purpose either. Is it because I don't like trying to summarize myself? I just wrote a paragraph about my friend in less than half an hour. Is it that I don't think I have the proper qualifications (I know I don't), and in trying to sound like I might be able to do the job anyway I sound a little bit like a fraud? Hm. The thing is, I could be beginning a PhD program right now, and I could definitely do that. (I've already gotten a master's degree, so I can't help but thinking getting a second one would be easier. I'm sure the third through sixth years would be immeasurably more difficult.) I also think I could totally be a bar manager. I don't know everything I would like to, but I know a lot and I learn super fast. When I want to do something.
It's because I think I sound defensive.
"I know stuff. Really. Honest. No, I do. It doesn't look like it, but I know stuff. I can do it. Promise."
Would I hire me? Probably not.
And yet...
The thing about my job right now is that the chefs/owners have made it easy for me: we have amazing food and amazing wine, and the two go together really well. And I've tasted almost everything on the menu (minus a few of the pricier reds). But it does require selling - it's not a cuisine a lot of people (myself included) are familiar with. And I'm pretty successful at selling this food and wine.
And sometimes people just want to hear that it tastes good.
It's a last resort. There are a million more specific ways of describing a dish (sweet, spicy, crispy, peppery, unique, interesting, traditional, rich, light, etc.) or a bottle (earthy, spicy, fruit-forward, fresh berries, jammy, tannic, creamy, acidic, etc.), but sometimes, no matter how good something sounds, people want to hear that you like it. Which is why I know closeted vegetarians and vegans working at restaurants - people believe you more if they know you've tasted it. And if they believe you like it.
So does the same thing go for selling myself to prospective employers and admissions committees? Of course. I'm not so naive as to not already know that. And I've nailed some interviews, I've charmed some of the more resistant-looking, but I've also thought I nailed interviews and never heard from my prospective employer again.
I'm just feeling self-conscious about my resume. I moved the master's degree to the bottom for my bartending resume. I added a list of restaurants without dates because I have the experience, just not long-term experience, and I think that's important too. But none of them scream high-volume, and I remember that job that looks like it's not high-volume, and it was in fact as demanding as any other bar I've been to (if for a shorter time period, perhaps), and we had to be nice to people, cultivate regulars, have conversations. And I feel weird because I hated it and I miss it.
Oh, existential crises. Maybe I'll just run away to somewhere sunny. Work in a bar for tourists. Lay on the beach. Yeah, maybe I'll just give it all up and settle for that.
...After realizing that the bartending job she worked at to support herself through a BA in English and an MA in Humanities and Social Thought was the job she wanted to do - if not in the right city - Christina decided to... to what? To make it happen.
It all depends on audience, of course, but taking that for granted for a moment, there are a few assumptions we can make about writing a blurb about a person. 1. We will not get everything in there. 2. Things will be left out. 3. There are ways of saying things that allow a phrase to tell the whole story, because 4. Assumptions will be made based on those few short sentences. Or long sentences. Long complicated sentences with lots of clauses, the structure of which the author probably attempts to vary in order not to sound boring and in turn making the person being bio'ed sound boring.
So now I might wonder how I would summarize myself (the little about me to the right of this post is super out of date - I'm not really on my way to a PhD, so why not amend it?), but in my current state of mind I'm wondering more who my audience would be. As I just alluded, I've decided not to apply to PhD programs again this year. Maybe next year, but there would be no point now - I haven't done anything new. I'm barely even writing, let alone publishing.
That is not to suggest that I haven't had a lot of experiences in the last year that have been beneficial, but they're not exactly cv-worthy. And that's fine.
But I'm at this point where I am writing cover letters, and I'm really bad at it. I've never liked my statements of purpose either. Is it because I don't like trying to summarize myself? I just wrote a paragraph about my friend in less than half an hour. Is it that I don't think I have the proper qualifications (I know I don't), and in trying to sound like I might be able to do the job anyway I sound a little bit like a fraud? Hm. The thing is, I could be beginning a PhD program right now, and I could definitely do that. (I've already gotten a master's degree, so I can't help but thinking getting a second one would be easier. I'm sure the third through sixth years would be immeasurably more difficult.) I also think I could totally be a bar manager. I don't know everything I would like to, but I know a lot and I learn super fast. When I want to do something.
It's because I think I sound defensive.
"I know stuff. Really. Honest. No, I do. It doesn't look like it, but I know stuff. I can do it. Promise."
Would I hire me? Probably not.
And yet...
The thing about my job right now is that the chefs/owners have made it easy for me: we have amazing food and amazing wine, and the two go together really well. And I've tasted almost everything on the menu (minus a few of the pricier reds). But it does require selling - it's not a cuisine a lot of people (myself included) are familiar with. And I'm pretty successful at selling this food and wine.
And sometimes people just want to hear that it tastes good.
It's a last resort. There are a million more specific ways of describing a dish (sweet, spicy, crispy, peppery, unique, interesting, traditional, rich, light, etc.) or a bottle (earthy, spicy, fruit-forward, fresh berries, jammy, tannic, creamy, acidic, etc.), but sometimes, no matter how good something sounds, people want to hear that you like it. Which is why I know closeted vegetarians and vegans working at restaurants - people believe you more if they know you've tasted it. And if they believe you like it.
So does the same thing go for selling myself to prospective employers and admissions committees? Of course. I'm not so naive as to not already know that. And I've nailed some interviews, I've charmed some of the more resistant-looking, but I've also thought I nailed interviews and never heard from my prospective employer again.
I'm just feeling self-conscious about my resume. I moved the master's degree to the bottom for my bartending resume. I added a list of restaurants without dates because I have the experience, just not long-term experience, and I think that's important too. But none of them scream high-volume, and I remember that job that looks like it's not high-volume, and it was in fact as demanding as any other bar I've been to (if for a shorter time period, perhaps), and we had to be nice to people, cultivate regulars, have conversations. And I feel weird because I hated it and I miss it.
Oh, existential crises. Maybe I'll just run away to somewhere sunny. Work in a bar for tourists. Lay on the beach. Yeah, maybe I'll just give it all up and settle for that.
...After realizing that the bartending job she worked at to support herself through a BA in English and an MA in Humanities and Social Thought was the job she wanted to do - if not in the right city - Christina decided to... to what? To make it happen.
Friday, September 11, 2009
someone after my own heart
This article makes me so so so so so so happy.
But what I'm chuckling about at the moment is the fact that when I read the title (The Coin Flip: A Fundamentally Unfair Proposition?), my initial reaction was that there was something some of us - the more successful, of course - knew that the rest of us didn't which kept a smaller number of people in the successful camp and the majority neatly excluded.
As if the world was full of business executives, entrepreneurs, celebrities, chefs, bosses, artists, movers and shakers, etc., who wouldn't be where they are today without knowing a thing or two about coin flipping.
But what I'm chuckling about at the moment is the fact that when I read the title (The Coin Flip: A Fundamentally Unfair Proposition?), my initial reaction was that there was something some of us - the more successful, of course - knew that the rest of us didn't which kept a smaller number of people in the successful camp and the majority neatly excluded.
As if the world was full of business executives, entrepreneurs, celebrities, chefs, bosses, artists, movers and shakers, etc., who wouldn't be where they are today without knowing a thing or two about coin flipping.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
deadlines
I've been thinking about imposing deadlines on myself lately, or I suppose it would be more accurate to write that I've been thinking about delving into what deadlines mean and whether to impose a few on myself in the near future. Sort of the same thing.
According to the various sources represented on Dictionary.com, a deadline is a kind of time limit. The origin of the word, however, is the line a prisoner could not cross without risk of being shot - the dead line - and the use of the term as synonymous with time limit can be traced to American newspaper jargon in the 1920s. Oh, those newspaper men and their words.
According to Wikipedia, a time limit is related to a milestone. Although it seems to me, simply glancing at the words that make up the compound words involved (deadline - time limit - milestone), a milestone is more of a marker on the way to somewhere else, and a deadline is more finite. Also, one doesn't impose milestones, one achieves milestones, where one imposes a deadline, however one may reach a deadline, in the same way one imposes a time limit or is restricted by a time limit and one may reach the limit. In other words, they're only sort of related. Silly Wikipedia.
But what are the advantages and disadvantages of imposing a few deadlines on oneself? On myself, to be specific. I've been out of grad school for almost a year and four months, and the last deadline I had and stuck to, really, was April 14, 2008: the day I turned in my thesis to my advisor. Three days later than she and I had originally agreed upon. (It was due to the department on the 16th, and I have a master's degree to prove that my advisor read my final draft the day I gave it to her.) Well, no, actually the last deadline I had was for my PhD applications. But the thesis was way bigger, I can say now that I'm on the other side of both of them. And I know there will be other non-self-imposed deadlines in my future, but I've been wondering if I'm sort of craving a date and a project to strive for in a manner that feels more important than "I need to submit something that doesn't suck to my writing group in six weeks."
This doesn't answer the question. Should I give myself a few deadlines? Should I monitor my progress based on an arbitrarily chosen future date of completion?
Interesting blog on the topic from Thomas at Go College. He doesn't go into what would happen if there were no deadlines. Would he still be working at those undergraduate term papers? I bet the profs in question would remember him in that case...
According to the various sources represented on Dictionary.com, a deadline is a kind of time limit. The origin of the word, however, is the line a prisoner could not cross without risk of being shot - the dead line - and the use of the term as synonymous with time limit can be traced to American newspaper jargon in the 1920s. Oh, those newspaper men and their words.
According to Wikipedia, a time limit is related to a milestone. Although it seems to me, simply glancing at the words that make up the compound words involved (deadline - time limit - milestone), a milestone is more of a marker on the way to somewhere else, and a deadline is more finite. Also, one doesn't impose milestones, one achieves milestones, where one imposes a deadline, however one may reach a deadline, in the same way one imposes a time limit or is restricted by a time limit and one may reach the limit. In other words, they're only sort of related. Silly Wikipedia.
But what are the advantages and disadvantages of imposing a few deadlines on oneself? On myself, to be specific. I've been out of grad school for almost a year and four months, and the last deadline I had and stuck to, really, was April 14, 2008: the day I turned in my thesis to my advisor. Three days later than she and I had originally agreed upon. (It was due to the department on the 16th, and I have a master's degree to prove that my advisor read my final draft the day I gave it to her.) Well, no, actually the last deadline I had was for my PhD applications. But the thesis was way bigger, I can say now that I'm on the other side of both of them. And I know there will be other non-self-imposed deadlines in my future, but I've been wondering if I'm sort of craving a date and a project to strive for in a manner that feels more important than "I need to submit something that doesn't suck to my writing group in six weeks."
This doesn't answer the question. Should I give myself a few deadlines? Should I monitor my progress based on an arbitrarily chosen future date of completion?
Interesting blog on the topic from Thomas at Go College. He doesn't go into what would happen if there were no deadlines. Would he still be working at those undergraduate term papers? I bet the profs in question would remember him in that case...
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