Thursday, 27 February 2003
on my living room wall...
…is a gift I received from my stepfather. It’s not a cheerful image—it’s a picture of a shrouded woman, done in muddy reds and browns. Below it is the last stanza from “War is Kind,” a poem by Stephen Crane.
Mother whose heart hung humble as a button On the bright splendid shroud of your son,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
I first read the poem in high school, and it touched me then, in a way I didn’t understand, but that most of us who love to read have felt more than once. And when I saw the picture in my mother’s house after she married my stepfather, I coveted it immediately.
Today, when I look at it, I am grateful for two things. First, for my stepfather’s generosity in giving me the picture. Second—and more importantly—for the fact that my children (ages 6 and 8) are still too young to be conscripted into the war that draws inexorably nearer.
(Will post a photo of the picture later, if time permits.)
through a child's eyes
Yesterday, Lane (my 8-year-old son) brought me a tumbler full of gatorade, and then stood tentatively near the door. “Dad says you might have food poisoning,” he said, sounding quite concerned. “That, or a bad virus,” I replied.
He stood silent for a moment, then asked “Mom, why would anyone want to poison your food?”
I reassured him quickly by explaining what we meant by “food poisoning,” and he left the room looking greatly relieved. It was a good reminder of how literally children take what they hear.
subverting the quantitative hierarchy
I am a qualitative researcher. I tend to believe stories before I believe statistics. Anne Galloway has a lovely post about the value of qualitative perspectives on blogging.
And Meg at Mandarin offers up an irresistable opportunity to play games with Daypop’s new “word burst” tracker. Use the word “oulipo” in your blog, she says. Consider it done.
And when the statisticians total their columns and find a burst like this, what will they make of it? Without the stories, it means nothing.
a visual oasis
After a day of non-stop grading, I needed to clear my mind of student web sites before going to sleep. A strange trail of links (too strange to explain or list) led me to the photos of Emese Gaal, whose blog has been added to my daily list.
It’s also a wonderful example of why I don’t buy Jenny Levine’s argument that using RSS feeds is simply a choice of “substance over style.” In some cases—and this is surely one—the substance is inextricably bound up with the style.
