So many buttons to click, bills to pay, kids to feed, connections to make or break, and so many darn thing to learn! Or think! Or do! Or undo!
What is at the center? Evil and unhappy zombies waiting to bite your head off? A mob of exuberant friends waiting to cheer you on? I do not know what lies beyond my window. But I will reach out. I am sure that sometimes, I will pull my hand back in, only to find a bloody stump.
How shall we frame these moments in life and what will they look like when we peer out that window frame. Frightening?
Or will it be nothing but Blue Sky from now on? Not sure, but I have taken a bit of Wish You Were Here album cover art in my framing of these pictures. And I do wish you were here. Maybe you are. I am.
I leave you today with happy thoughts and a brave heart.
That reminds me of some lines in Zorba the Greek about looking at life and the challenges we face.
“We are little grubs, Zorba, minute grubs on the small leaf of a tremendous tree. The small leaf is the earth. The other leaves are the stars that you see moving at night. We make our way on this little leaf examining it anxiously and carefully. We smell it; it smells good or bad to us. We taste it and find it eatable. We beat on it and it cries out like a living thing.
“Some men — the more intrepid ones — reach the edge of the leaf. From there we stretch out, gazing into chaos. We tremble. We guess what a frightening abyss lies beneath us. In the distance we can hear the noise of the other leaves of the tremendous tree, we feel the sap rising from the root of our leaf and our hearts swell. Bent thus over the awe-inspiring abyss, with all our bodies and all our souls, we tremble with terror. From that moment begins…”
“I stopped. I wanted to say “from that moment begins poetry,” but Zorba would not have understood. I stopped.
“‘What begins’? asked Zorba’s anxious voice. ‘Why did you stop’?
“…begins the great danger, Zorba. Some grow dizzy and delirious, others are afraid; they try to find an answer to strengthen their hearts, and they say: ‘God’! Others again, from the edge of the leaf, look over the precipice calmly and bravely and say: ‘I like it.’!
I know, I know, that ain’t the line. But, that ain’t no reason to not talk about it, right? Guilia got it going, I think.
Way back in 2006 Alan Levine spoke of badges and proclaimed, “Badges are back! Maybe coming back soon too are the blink tag and title tag animations.” I figure I’d just toss those terms around a bit.
Well, #ds106, I give you the animated “Jim Groom Don’t Need No Stinkin Badges” badge.
The way I see it here is that if you ain’t got badges you ain’t got….
And we really need to re-frame our conversations about badges anyway. Especially on Saturday afternoons. So we did. And I gave myself another badge as you can see, I am rich with rewards of all kinds! Badges of gold and and silver lace. Badges that smell of saffron. Badges that show courage and honor. Badges of chocolate.
Badges Badges Badges
I am Todd Conaway and I live in in the upper deserts of Arizona. I live in a village called Cornville. No joke. From a hill near my home I can see for many miles in every direction. In some cases there are no buildings for a hundred miles. No wonder I am looking for fellow travelers, right?
The air is clean, the night sky crystal clear with stars as bright as torches laying across the ocean. It is beautiful and it is what I need.
I have participated in this ds106 class twice. The fist time I lived here. The blog title comes form a pamphlet I used to create monthly as a way to express myself in poems. The name comes from two of my heroes, Isadora Duncan and Robert Louis Stevenson. A pagan dancer and a rather ill pirate.
The second time I participated in the class was pretty strange. I was an old man. The story is full of revolution, hugs, and happiness. I think. I died at the end, but it was well worth it.
I have this idea for this time around. I want to “frame” everything. Literally. I am not sure how it will work, but I am going to try. Frames help you know. They help us see. Keep things in and keep things out. Define space. And there is of course, the ever popular lingo, re-framing. What are we re-framing in this class?
I have framed me, right here.
Marshall McLuhan has touched me in text. He used words and paper to reach me. I touch you in this rectangle before you using electricity and characters. This is me.
“The automobile is an extension of your feet, clothing an extension of your skin, glasses an extension of your eyes, the internet an extension of your nervous system.”
McLuhan reaches to us today. He smokes his cigar and ponders our relationship to this plastic and metal. How shall we use it to reach out, knowingly or unknowingly. Shall we choose to control it? To make it our own?