Rendezvous
06 September 09 : 03.49 AM
My post-modern cynical self has made it hard for me to see tangible value and meaning in the arts. This includes, sadly, my very field of study, which is strange because tell anyone from my past I'm reading literature at college level, and they'd tell you, there is nothing else for her. And I'm pretty sure it held a lot more meaning for me before. If I put my mind to it, I can write a 3000 words essay on an abstract topic in a single night, I know the right places to slot in the right words, I can find intended meanings in a work, tear it apart at a micro-level, and I can deconstruct it if you want me to. (Getting me to put my mind to it is a whole different ballgame altogether...)
I can see a cumbersome black turban-like headdress on a performer and come up with the superfluous analysis that "it was a stark reminder of the patriarchal hold on the woman, where her external self is dictated by her status in relation to a man." And I don't even half-believe it. The truth is though, like Gertrude Stein would say it, a headdress is a headdress is a headdress. And if it happens to be heavy, well, shit happens.
This is the very reason why I have nothing to talk about school.