Daily Archives: April 6, 2012
The weather has started to shift away from the sunny side and temperatures have taken a slight dip. I was lucky that the sky remains relatively clear to watch the full moon,
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(see art attributions on polyvor.com)
Reflection:
The QUT English Curriculum Studies #CLB_018 class challenged me to depict my English teacher identity.
I’m strongly drawn to gothic expression in literature, theatre, art, and design. I love the tension involved in exploring the unknown, and want to encourage my students to ‘draw themselves’ through their encounters in these text worlds. I want their self-portraits – and mine – to negotiate ideas of false and true.
On the elements:
I chose to frame this collage a reference to the space on the polyvore page, space in the classroom, spaces where we typically engage in visual objects we call ‘art’, but also the spaces in our everyday theatrics (how we stage our homes, our workplaces and our social spaces). The ‘false frame’ of this exercise also allows me to exercise…
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A Mother has so many things to do,
From washing, ironing, cleaning to tying a shoe.
She scrubs, she mends, she cooks and sews,
She bathes the children and washes their clothes.
When they forget to wash their faces clean,
And their clothes are the muddiest you’ve ever seen,
Who repairs the clothes and scrubs them like new?
Of course, that is what a Mother will do.
Who becomes the doctor or the nurse when they are ill,
Applying a bandage or giving them a pill?
Who becomes a teacher when a child has homework?
She must never her duty shirk.
Who becomes a detective to find a toy or a book?
For missing things she must look and look?
Who becomes a listner to every heartache,
To every accompolishment that a child makes?
Who scolds their children when they are naughty,
Or remind them of God when they are…
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“I Tire”
I tire because I am endlessly, or waking, dream
I’ve laboured to no end in the day and nightly tripped
Through doors whether in and out with nothing scripted,
Nothing tasted, a greater thing than gravity. Early minutes’ quiet’s gleaned
From what I see as patterns reckon ends bit off before
They leave the fingertips. Salutations to the daylight from the darkness
Knowing light my only threat and saviour cannot be denied; I seek no rest
But simply wave my rights before I hit the bathroom floor.
Another round of ritual in the matins and by the time I see the streets
My spirits rise to the invasion, papers purchased and there
I am while no one hears me enter. My exit’ll not be noted as no one’s left
Who remembers where I stood so tall before it all–the cleft
Between the morning after and the afternoon before–the…
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Homa Khaleeli
The Guardian, March 7, 2011
Article History
Maya Angelou
Writer, academic and activist, who chronicled the African American experience in literature
When she started to chronicle the African-American experience through her own life, Maya Angelou, 82, had a lot to work with – enough to fill six books of autobiography, the first of which was the longest-running non-fiction paperback on the New York Times bestseller list.
A friend and supporter of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, as well as being Oprah Winfrey’s mentor, it is her willingness to share the wisdom she gained from the struggle of her early years that inspires her generations of fans.
As a child she was raped by her mother’s boyfriend. When her attacker was kicked to death she didn’t speak for five years – believing that by naming him she had killed him. After becoming a teenage mother, a…
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Wonders of Wandering 