Burnt Ovens

Monkey See, Monkey Do

The disturbing trend of conformity in teenagers rears its ugly head more violently than usual in our oddly success-driven institution this year, with fewer and fewer colorful characters trekking through our little suburban microcosm. I wish it were merely disappointing. True, in and of itself it is just that, but its echoes create a haunting suspicion in all who stop to ponder what tomorrow may bring, or the day after. Conformity with regards to appearance or even idiosyncrasies may not be quite so dangerous; however, what we see more and more of is conformity in manner and thought--a persistent fear that any and all ideas that reach beyond your neighbor's must not be worth voicing. The result? The classrooms become a breeding ground for fearful silence and mute incomprehension. But then, there is the unavoidable question: does it even matter?

posted by Sofie @ 9:33 PM Comments: 0

Nostalgia

A touch of bittersweet sorrow and nostalgia can't hurt anyone, right? I can't recall what I came here to write, so I'll write a bit about blogs. I only read three blogs regularly now, but I'm better for it. The cliched "quality over quantity" and "choose your friends" and what not are cliched for a reason. Eh...humdrum writing is stifling.
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I wish it were possible to explain now how emotionally moved I was by a piece of writing, how after reading it I still felt the quiet, fortifying sorrow seep from the page and the silent joy, too, that is his way of life. This past summer has truly been an incredible learning experience for me, just having been able to touch hands and lock eyes with new people, different and vibrant and talented, to comprehend just a little how true it is when adults are described as founts of knowledge and wisdom and are indeed accessible to us, still young and naive yet. I wonder often now whether twenty, thirty years from now I will be in the rank of the beautiful adults I admire today or of those disturbing specimens of ignorance and pretentious wisdom I detest.
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Is it possible to be entirely bewitched by someone you hardly know? A few words. A look in the eyes. A smile. And then you're swept off your feet, head lifted above the clouds, heart lost for no reason but that single bewitching smile.

posted by Sofie @ 9:46 PM Comments: 0

Schemes and Dreams

Even now, so many months later, I still remember the beautiful writing of that unknown hand. I still remember how this person called all the words under his command, even while he (although I do not know if it was indeed a "he" at all) wrote of how some days the words would flow under his pen and express what he wanted them to, while other times they did not. Or...I am not certain that was what he said.
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I cannot help wondering about such seemingly pointless questions as, "Ought I to ponder those great philosophical questions of life or shall I live in the moment, doing what I ought to do and thinking of nothing else?" My nature calls me to stop thinking about the philosophy of life, it is a waste of time, it will not get me where I am going. And yet, when I read the reflections of others or the great works of those profound philosophers of yesterday (Aristotle, Plato, Socrates), I cannot stop myself from admiring the questions they try to answer, the questions I try not to answer. Why is it all such a struggle? And I ask that not in complaint or protest or anger, but merely in curiousity. It is a fact of life, after all. I can assert here that life is struggle, and the triumph at the end of the day, that final breath when you know you have run your best race, climbed that highest mountain, that indeed is the pinnacle of all of life because it is the completion and the final victory over Struggle.

posted by Sofie @ 9:03 PM Comments: 0