The Battle of Carnival and Lent by Pieter Brueghel the Elder

In honor of the Mardi Gras season that I am currently missing in New Orleans, I thought I would pick this really cool painting from my A Year in Art book to share. I know with this picture the detailing is not quite as exquisite as one would hope, but you can at least get a sense for the grandness of the canvas. The Battle of Carnival and Lent by Pieter Brueghel the Elder is in the Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts, Brussels. Dated 1559, this canvas does sort of capture the amount of randomness of the carnival season in New Orleans. Things are going on all over the place, and who knows if there is really order going on. Surely, chaos is reigning in the picture, and it usually takes over at some point.

I was able to get this detail of the painting to share:

One a rather interesting note, when searching for images on the web, I found out that Zbigniew Preisner composed a short instrumental piece based off of this painting for one of my favorite films, Bleu. I can't wait to rewatch the film now and listen to the piece and see how it fits into the score/film.

Winter Woes

So, it is official. I have literally not left my apartment or showered since Sunday night so about 60ish hours, give or take. This winter weather has got me all. Well, technically, I feel like I haven't really done much of anything since last Thursday. Besides a meeting I had on Friday, and an awful attempt at jogging with Hall on Saturday and viewing Big Love on Sunday at J's, I haven't done anything of much consequence, as I told a friend of mine over the phone. I guess I never realized how important getting out of your apartment can be. Besides all of that complaining, I have been rather productive. I read The Real Charlotte by Sommerville and Ross (it is like a fin-de-siecle Jane Austen novel), Dusty Answers by Rosamund Lehmann, and The Waterfall by Margaret Drabble. The latter two were for thesis research, and I found them slightly less than entertaining. I really plan on giving Drabble another chance. I plan on reading The Needle's Eye sometime soon for thesis research, as well as a book by Iris Murdoch and one by Muriel Spark.

I have also been feeling very, very nostalgic lately. I know I told a couple of you this, but they recently tore down my old dorm, Boozman Hall. It brought up a bunch of memories, and I have been haunting the alumni page on Facebook and such. I posted some photos and wrote a little snippet about my time there. My mom and I have dreams of me returning to teach there one day and settling on the lake. It was just such a good place for me. I really loved my time there. All of this winter weather has me thinking about how much I would have loved to have been in my old house, snowed in for three days, enjoying time with my old roommates. It is kinda lonely living alone, and I guess it stands out so much more for me now that I haven't been out and have no one to spend those weird times together. Like that last hour right before you go to sleep or the early morning stumble from the bathroom to the kitchen. No one to gripe with between classes and no one sneaking into my room for a late night talk.

I can't even really bring myself to finish this post, nor do I even know why I am posting something like this. I haven't really posted something this personal before. I guess I was just feeling like sharing.

"i sometimes desire to be alone"

"i sometimes desire to be alone"

every fiber screams to pull away
and all that I compose stumbles outward
but I unconsciously move towards others

it is as if every turn is decided
resisting and fulfilling some fate as
every fiber screams to pull away

the shreds of myself are caught in the wind
cycling in the atmosphere I hate it
but I unconsciously move towards others

freedom is an oxymoron unable
to resist movement and complexity while
every fiber screams to pull away

how can you be free while tethered to the world
i conspicuously act against nature
but I unconsciously move towards others

someone marks out my text as i claim
what little is left for the taking
every fiber screams to pull away
but I unconsciously move towards others