An autumn poem

Autumn Chant
Edna St. Vincent Millay

"Now the autumn shudders
In the rose's root.
Far and wide the ladders
Lean among the fruit.

Now the autumn clambers
Up the trellised frame,
And the rose remembers
The dust from which it came.

Brighter than the blossom
On the rose's bough
Sits the wizened, orange,
Bitter berry now;

Beauty never slumbers;
All is in her name;
But the rose remembers
The dust from which it came."

Enjoy the autumn everyone :)

I always knew I liked this guy

Ask me who my favorite actor is and I will say Jimmy Stewart, hands down. A little bit of Googling led me to the conclusion that I picked a pretty good guy to call my favorite. This handsome fellow was not only an incredible actor, but he was an incredible person too. I appreciate his dedication to making good, clean movies with valuable plots and characters. There's even more...

He was very intelligent, a lovable guy, could play the accordion, wrote poetry, was humble and friendly, believed in the USA, fell in love with a former model, supported Scouting, served as a Major General in the Air Force, almost became an architect, hosted philanthropic events, was a roommate with Henry Fonda, found pleasure in gardening and even performed on Broadway. What an admirable combination of attributes and accomplishments!

Here's his poem:

"Beau"

by Jimmy Stewart

He never came to me when I would call
Unless I had a tennis ball,
Or he felt like it,
But mostly he didn't come at all.

When he was young
He never learned to heel
Or sit or stay,
He did things his way.

Discipline was not his bag
But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.

He bit lots of folks from day to day,
The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
He said we owned a real man-eater.

He set the house on fire
But the story's long to tell.
Suffice it to say that he survived
And the house survived as well.

On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
He was always first out the door.
The Old One and I brought up the rear
Because our bones were sore.

He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
What a beautiful pair they were!
And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
They created a bit of a stir.

But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
And with a frown on his face look around.
It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
And would follow him where he was bound.

We are early-to-bedders at our house--
I guess I'm the first to retire.
And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
And get up from his place by the fire.

He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
And I'd give him one for a while.
He would push it under the bed with his nose
And I'd fish it out with a smile.

And before very long
He'd tire of the ball
And be asleep in his corner
In no time at all.

And there were nights when I'd feel him
Climb upon our bed
And lie between us,
And I'd pat his head.

And there were nights when I'd feel this stare
And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
And sometimes I'd feel him sigh
and I think I know the reason why.

He would wake up at night
And he would have this fear
Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
And he'd be glad to have me near.

And now he's dead.
And there are nights when I think I feel him
Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
And I pat his head.

And there are nights when I think
I feel that stare
And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
But he's not there.

Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,
I'll always love a dog named Beau.

I like this quote from Wikipedia:

"From the beginning of James Stewart's career in 1935 through his final theatrical project in 1991, he appeared in 92 films, television programs and shorts. Through the course of this illustrious career, he appeared in many landmark and critically acclaimed films, including such classics as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Rear Window, The Spirit of St. Louis and Vertigo. His roles in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Philadelphia Story, It's a Wonderful Life, Harvey, and Anatomy of a Murder earned him Academy Award nominations (he won for Philadelphia Story). Stewart's career defied the boundaries of genre and trend, and he made his mark in screwball comedies, suspense thrillers, westerns, biographies and family films."

Basically, if you haven't seen the movies highlighted in orange, get on it now.


Jimmy Quotes:

"I have my own rules and adhere to them. The rule is simple but inflexible. A James Stewart picture must have two vital ingredients: it will be clean and it will involve the triumph of the underdog over the bully."

"I don`t act. I react."

"Asked how he wanted to be remembered: As someone who believed in hard work and love of country, love of family and love of community."

**swoon**

Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Stewart
http://www.meredy.com/jimmystewart/beau.htm
http://www.quotelucy.com/quotations/7357/182357-jimmy-stewart-quote.html

For the love of learning

I certainly hope it is not pretentious of me to post a homework assignment of mine online and think you might like to read it, but that is what I am about to do. I was so enlightened by Dominican University's recent Caritas et Veritas Symposium that I just wanted to share some of what I learned.

The Caritas et Veritas Symposium was a fascinating day for me and I enjoyed exploring the meaning behind Dominican University’s motto. I had the privilege of attending three sessions in which speakers applied the meanings of “caritas” and “veritas,” the latin words for “love” and “truth” to their fields of knowledge. I was especially moved by the English department’s presentation called “A Gradual Dazzling: The Nature of Truth in Literary Studies.” This took place in the beautiful Noonan Reading Room, which I thought was a perfect setting for such a topic. The presentation explored how literature often uses a “slant view” of truth, using Emily Dickinson’s poem “Tell all the Truth but tell it slant” to present the idea. Four professors spoke about writings in their fields of expertise to describe this further and explore the role of love and truth in literature.

Professor Warren Green, a teacher of ancient literature, spoke about the Greek tragedies of the 4^th and 5^th centuries BCE. He explained how the role of theater in Athens during the 5^th century BCE was very central to society, though I was disappointed to learn that only men were permitted to attend theatrical events. I was fascinated to learn that the theater of Dionysus was large enough to seat the entire male population of Athens, and it did so during a four day theater festival that took place every year. Theater-going was therefore a communal experience, in which men of all social classes and roles were brought together to observe and participate in a parade and as many as 12 plays in 36 hours. The great playwrights Euripides, Sophokles, and Aeschylus wrote the tragedies to show the men of Athenian society “how to be an active citizen in a democracy at war” (Green). The tragic stories of Antigone and Polenyssius offered play-goers a view of the consequences of greed, pride, and willfulness, as well as an argument for finding a balance between the laws of the state and the laws of heaven. I found it ironic that although the plots were often extreme and included elements of the divine, these seemingly unrealistic pieces of the story became ways to explain the troubled political situations of the times. The men who attended the plays were brought together in community and were inspired to discuss justice and mercy. The tragedies of ancient Greece can therefore be understood when they are presented in the context of the era. Through a knowledge of ancient Greek democracy, history, and the theater experience, we as 21^st century Americans can better understand why ancient Greek tragedies could become a means to understanding of the truth. I believe theater continues to confront societal issues and inspire dialogue that finds solutions and cooperation.

The next speaker, Professor Mickey Sweeney, brought us further through history as she presented a mesmerizing look at the Romance genre of literature. The Romantic era of story-telling, writing and poetry came about during the Medieval Era in the 13^th and 14^th centuries CE. Such writing, mainly by Geoffrey of Monmouth, includes stories of knights, kings, and magicians. Professor Sweeney explained how collective learning was often done through the distribution of manuscripts, which were both entertaining and informing, for they attempted to convey the truths of history and human flaws while maintaining an audience. Histories and tales of adventure were often stretched to grand, unrealistic proportions, such as the passionate story of Sir Lancelot and Guinevere. I related this fact to current media techniques, which continue to stretch the truth in order to keep consumers interested. However, I noted a difference in the role of God and religion today than in the Romantic era. Whereas people of the time believed in God’s control over history, writers viewed their historical stories as “records of God’s divine history” and as “tools to tell moral lessons” (Sweeney). Kings and nations would prevail because of their moral strengths, and individuals would fall because of their moral weaknesses. The supernatural elements of some stories, including the magical character Merlin, were often criticized by Geoffrey’s contemporaries as being heretical, yet “magic” has always existed in history as a human explanation of the mysterious things of the world. It seems that God has taken a secondary role to science as the modern world’s source of reason. In ways similar to modern media, the stories of the Romantic era were told on a “slant,” with the purpose of conveying the importance of history and an explanation of why things happened as they did.

The third presenter, Professor Joseph Heininger, used the work of two contemporary Irish writers to show how poetry is a complex and profound way to respond to world events. I was especially captivated by this presentation because I have not studied much modern poetry. Heaney’s poem “Punishment” contains the heart-wrenching observation of an adulteress who suffers a horrible punishment from the IRS, which dominated Northern Ireland at the time. Following this retelling, Heaney explores the complexities of the event. While he sees the woman as a victim of scapegoating, Heaney also understands the human desire for revenge. Longeley’s poem “Ceasefire” also explores a historical event, but in a different way. His poem is an analogy of the ancient Trojan Wars to modern Irish conflicts, from which Professor Heininger concludes that “nothing erases killing, but there is atonement when the cycle of violence is ended with love and self-surrender” (Heinenger). I am delighted that poetry continues to be a valuable source of truth, for I love reading and analyzing the works of Longfellow, Sandburg, and St. Vincent Millay. I shall certainly continue to look into modern publications, for these works show how poetry may better contain the breadth of human emotion than other genres of literature.

By looking into the “slant truths” of literature throughout history, these speakers showed how such “lies” lead readers to the truth. To discover the truth, however, it is necessary to find the intended meaning of the literature through an understanding of the writings’ contexts. Greek tragedies of the 5^th century BCE, Romantic writings of the Middle Ages, and poetry of the modern era played and still play important roles in history, not only in the preservation of historical events, but also in the explanation and interpretation of these events. Furthermore, the exploration of society and how it should be is a constant theme of literature, which makes it a valuable tool in the classroom and in life.

P.S. The picture is from a prayer service for Sudan. Keep on praying!

The girl who loved books, Part I

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved books very much. One day while she was wandering through her magical castle she encountered a grand library and was overwhelmed with joy. This was no ordinary library, for it had four floors full of shelves that stretched to the tall ceiling. On the lowest level were enchanted sliding shelves that squeezed together at the command of a remote control. These shelves were packed with periodicals, journals, law books, and other documents of higher learning. The second floor was a maze of nonfiction and a vast array of religious literature. As she stared down the aisle containing books about saints of the past, the girl could barely glimpse the far away end of the row. She entered one aisle and curiously surveyed the titles. Much to her surprise, she could not read them, for they were in French, Spanish, Polish, and other unfamiliar languages of far away lands.
After finding her way out of the first floor menagerie, the girl who loved books traveled to the top of the wide spiral staircase at the center of the library, where she encountered an abundance of the most wonderful literary treats. Poetry, short stories, and novels whispered to her from the shelves. These books seemed to glow as they sat pridefully in their periodically-numbered places, just waiting to be found and opened. The girl walked through a tight aisle and marveled at the spines of the glorious specimens surrounding her. As one who knew a bit about books, the girl knew that much could be told about a book from its cover. Some old spines stood intact, the sign of a well made but rarely read book. Paper covers with glossy plastic protection showed the mark of a caring librarian, or literary physician. Frayed and tattered fabric covers indicated an old craft with valuable content. Often the inside pages of this kind were dog-eared for the ease of finding a favorite passage. Tired old paperbacks were held up between sturdy old novels with pressed leather pages. Occasionally a new book with uncracked spines protruded from a shelf, as though screaming to be opened and loved.
A strange thought occurred to the girl who loved books. This mysterious place must have been here for years... how long ago was the first book placed on this very shelf? She decided to find out. It didn't take the girl long to realize that the library was, indeed, much older than her 19-year-old self. In fact, the first book probably reached those shelves around the childhood of her great-grandmother. Several of the books had been printed many years ago, as indicated by the years printed on the first pages. The girl lifted one particularly wise looking book and gingerly opened the cover. She moved extra slowly as she did this, partially in awe and partially in fear that the brittle pages between her fingers would crumble to dust if she moved too harshly. The smell of ancient paper drifted to her nose, tainted with the acidic tinge of ink. It reminded her of her mother, who told stories of running presses and knew all there was to know about Benjamin Franklin. It was a good thing she was clutching the book in a hug-like manner, for if she had not been guarding the book well it would have fallen to the ground when she jumped in delight. 1850! The book was printed in 1850... just imagine, the era of hoop skirts and railroads...as well as slavery, corsets and plagues... Even such thoughts could not ruin the majesty of the book in the girl's hands. In an awe-struck daze, the girl who loved books tucked the treasure from 1850 into its proper place on the shelf and backed out of the aisle.
Class was calling and the girl had to go, but not before carefully selecting four treasures to take with her: Cuentos Espanoles (a tired paperback, 1960), The Boy's Froissart (she could never resist a good knight in shining armor, worn fabric cover, 1907), Beloved Prophet: The Love Letters of Kahlil Gibran and Mary Haskell and her private journal (a tended hardcover, 1972), and Lyra Celtica (a fabulous fabric cover with pressed letters and designs, 1932). Luckily this room of the castle had many entrances, so even if the room moved (as rooms were known to do in this castle), she could surely find a way in somehow or another. The girl who loved books practically floated down the spiral staircase, still in awe of her wondrous discovery. She could not wait to return soon...

Love with your guts

When the required reading list for the Freshman Honors seminar was posted I had a strange mix of feelings. The first thought to come to my mind was "Woo hoo! I get to go to Barnes and Noble!" upon which I hopped into the family car and drove to the nearest bookstore. Upon purchasing $50 worth of novels I realized just how hefty this higher learning stuff was going to be. "Oh my," I pondered, "This novel has 796 pages. How am I ever going to finish just this one?" The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky's last and greatest novel. All I had to say was... Bring it on.

At this point in time I have read about one third of the novel. I am on track with the syllabus and am enjoying the in class discussions about the story and its characters. While I know for certain that not everyone finds this novel to be an enjoyable read because of the long tirades and numerous characters, I have a great interest in "The Brothers."
While I do not recommend the novel for a leisurely weekend read, I would like to share a bit of the story with you. This excerpt is a quote from one of the Karamazov brothers to another, Ivan to the younger Alyosha. Ivan is cold and critical. He is known for his sharp intellect and deep logic, as well as his rejection of faith and his strange philosophies about life. I found it odd and inspiring that these beautiful words came from such a harsh character:

"I want to go to Europe, Alyosha, I'll go straight from here. Of course I know that I will only be going to a graveyard, but to the most, the most precious graveyard, that's the thing! The precious dead lie there, each stone over them speaks of such ardent past life, of such passionate faith in their deeds, their truth, their struggle, and their science, that I--this I know beforehand--will fall the the ground and kiss those stones and weep over them--being wholeheartedly convinced, at the same time, that it has all along been a graveyard and nothing more. And I will not weep from despair, but simply because I will be happy in my shed tears. I will be drunk with my own tenderness. Sticky spring leaves, the blue sky, I love them, that's all! Such things you love not with your mind, not with logic, but with your insides, your guts, you love your first young strength..." (230).

Perhaps the imagery is gruesome, but I just love that line: "you love them with your insides, your guts!" Here are some things I love with my guts:

Walks after breakfast
Blue skies
Happy goldfish
Perfectly brewed tea
Flowers that bloom into autumn
Calls from home
Finding the perfect position to read in
Heirloom jewelry
Understanding chemistry
Wearing hats
Smiling and holding doors for other people

...basically anything that makes me want to sing and dance is gut-loving worthy.


Dostoevsky, Fyodor. The Brothers Karamazov. Farrar, Straus and Giroux: New York, 2002.

" Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination." ~Oscar Wilde

What is it about boutiques that are so much fun? They are a grown-up girl's version of a candy shop... Fine stationary, eclectic books, hand dyed scarves, gardening goodies, exquisite soaps, one-of-a-kind dresses, original displays, and inspiring decor. This filled my day in Oak Park. What began at a Resident Student Association trip to a nearby resale shop ("Green since 1919") became a day of exploring the cute shops and galleries of downtown Oak Park, Illinois. Perhaps the joy of the day came from the adventure. There was no need to buy anything, but the boutique workers didn't need to know that! My roommate and I even tried on matching dresses... oh, so tempting. It's a fun challenge: resisting the temptation of buying all the fabulous, fun things! I enjoy looking for potential gifts, deals, and most of all just seeing what is out there. There's no need to fret over the price tag if you're not going to buy it-- you can still admire it!

So here is my simple living, little things in life advice of the day:
Go ahead and "just look." Don't be afraid to admire the beautiful things a shop may have, just be respectful of the merchandise and other people there. Smile as you enter a store and respond with " I'm wonderful, how are you?" when the worker behind the register asks how you are today. Ask questions about the products-- the people who run the shop are usually passionate about the things they sell. Try things on-- fall in love with a perfectly fitting dress and then leave it there. If it truly is perfect for you, you'll just have to work for the money to but it. There certainly is something fulfilling about buying something you've had your eyes on for a little while. The key is not to attach your own value to the things you own or desire. Remember, as they say in this week's Gospel reading: "You can't serve both God and mammon" (mammon=riches). If the shop owners/workers treat you in a snobby manner then perhaps you wouldn't want to support their business anyway. After all, some day you might return as a millionaire...

An exercise in self contentment

I have no reason to complain, whine, or gripe about anything. Here is a list of wonderful things in my life. The trick is, they are the first fifteen things that will come to my mind, making this a super fast pre-homework post.... Read, go!

1. My family is the sweetest bunch of people in the entire world

2. I'm listening to really good music. Hooray for Aerosmith (reserve your judgement, thank you).

3. My planner is pink. And shiny. And it has a ribbon bookmark. Love it.

4. My homework is to read and write a whole bunch of (mostly) interesting things. Heck, I know how to read- how lucky I am!

5. I am sitting in a comfortable, ergonomically designed chair that allows me to sit for hours in the same position without making my legs fall asleep. (okay, I just made that up, but I'll pretend it's true.)

6. I'm wearing comfy yoga pants, which were used for their proper purpose earlier this evening. Yay university yoga!

7. I have friends all over the country. They may be scattered and distant, but heck, wherever I go, I'll find an old friend at the nearest college!

8. I don't have to wait a week, month, or year to hear from my loved ones because I have a cell phone. As romantic and classic as letter writing is, it is painfully slow when one is homesick.

9. This computer's internet connection is delightfully quick.

10. The lanyard on my flash drive is from Notre Dame Academy and the lanyard on my room keys is from St. John's Jesuit. Toledo pride, baby!

11. My typing skills have improved greatly, which makes typing papers and blog posts much more fun.

12. My nutrition class is sweet. Plus, the project we did for homework validates the fact that I do, indeed, eat enough protein even if I'm not eating meat every day.

13. My pencils have Disney Princesses on them. Beat that.

14. I have a whole loaf of banana bread (minus the two pieces I ate today) in my room. Yummo.

15. I have seen more butterflies in the past few days than I ever expected I would. Those little guys always make my day.


So there it is. This was more for me than you guys, sorry y'all. Every now and then, I just have to remind myself of just how blessed I am to be exactly where I am.

"For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." [St. Paul In Philippians 4:11]
(from Quotations Book).

God bless.