Uh-oh

This is very worrying indeed.

"Women's Studies departments face growing pressure as school starts this year. A legal push by conservative students against what they see as a liberal bias takes particular aim at these programmes."

Via Feministing.

I'll write more about this when I don't have the tail end of a migraine and can think properly again...tomorrow...please!

Coming Soon...Kuhnian Tuesdays

So, in the spirit of Half-Nekkid Thursdays, and Friday Cat Blogging and Random Ten, I'm thinking about trying 'Kuhnian Tuesdays'. I had a research methods class this past year that discussed excerpts from Annette Kuhn's Family Secrets: Acts of Memory and Imagination and where we wrote our own Kuhnian meditation on a photograph as part of the end of year research methods project. This kind of relection, involves (or at least , my interpretation of which involves..) a description of the photograph; reflection from the perspective of the subject (or one of the subjects or even the photographer) on the moment at which the photgraph was taken; and even discussion of the equipment used in taking the picture and it's life after printing . In practice, I've found this incredibly interesting and useful in terms of thinking about the layers of history that exist within images; photographs as disclosers and guardians of secrets; and the way in which we describe photographs to eachother (the latter introduced to me by Shumi).
The idea is, that each Tuesday I will write, or will post those written by generous contributers, a meditation on a chosen picture. Do join in! It is ever so rewarding, especially if you are interested in memory work or the ideas surrounding memory work.

First Photo

The unfairly named 'garbage beach' just south of Kenting, Taiwan.

Lost in...nostalgia

Wow...Aspazia over at Mad Melancholic Feminista has just given me goosebumps. Check out her Melancholic Monday: Untranslatable Moments which has given me a Thoughtful Tuesday...
I often think back to those moments - moments when I tried to suck in my surroundings, to create some kind of internal video-tape complete with smells and tastes and emotions. Most of these come from my time in Taiwan. I knew, especially in my last year there, that I would miss Taiwan a lot when the time came to leave. I'm sure I must have looked odd, stopped in the middle of the crazy traffic, with people milling around on foot, on bicycle, scooter, cars trucks and buses; and me just absorbing, concentrating, and promising myself 'I will remember this.' I'm sure that many slipped through the cracks of my consciousness, that they will maybe emerge in years to come in dreams, or will wash over me when I least expect it. There are enough, though, that have survived, suspended in the unreliable formaldehyde of my memory:
Stopped in traffic on a hot hot hot day and smelling the oranges being squeezed by the juice vendor accross the street; piercing the cellophane lid on my large cup of iced lemon green tea and closing my eyes for the first invigorating and delicious mouthful; buying sushi at the night-market, fresh salmon and tuna and octopus boxed with a generous helping of ginger and wasabi; eating said sushi with cold beer at home after a long day teaching; the beach in the morning, unzipping my tent and running in for the first swim of the day, salt in my hair and on my skin after an afternoon swimming.
If I close my eyes it's easy to get swept away by the wave of nostalgia.
Sometimes when I think about the choices I have made I wonder what I could have achieved professionally had I stayed home and been career-focussed. Like Aspazia, I walked away from security and friends and family to follow, not quite a dream but the possibility of one.
And here I prepare to move on again with the dream finally taking shape.
No regrets.

Answers...

Stephanie asked...

Can you do the splits?
What's the last book you read?
How would you describe your parents?

Okay...
1.No, but at one time I thought I could (aged 7 or so). Turned out I wasn't really doing it properly and I was pretty gutted.
2.The last book I read was Disciplining Feminism: From Social Activism to Academic Discourse by Ellen Messer-Davidow. Off-dissertation the last book I read was the latest Harry Potter.
3. My Dad: Intellectual, Good hearted.
My Mum: Kind, Funny, Engaging, Insightful, a wonderful friend and mother.

I need to get out more often...

Via Lauren at the very excellent Feministe

Here’s how we play:

• Ask me 3 questions. Any 3, no matter how personal, private or random.
• I have to answer them honestly. I have to answer them all.
• In turn, you post this message in your own blog or journal and you have to answer the questions that are asked of you.

Rock on...

In the zone

In the past few weeks my mind has been pretty much occupied by my dissertation, thinking about it, writing it, rewriting it... Not since my final year of undergrad have I felt so involved with work, scholarly or otherwise. Mostly it's a really fantastic feeling, and although I get concerned about time running out, the quality of the work I'm producing (the latter more than the former), I am challenged rather than stressed by it. I have noticed that I've withdrawn a little (more) from the outside world though, which I put down to my brain whirring away about blogs and the knowledge that nobody I know is *really* all that interested! I'm looking foward to being done and being able to resume a less focused life-style. I'm looking foward to putting more time into blogging rather than writing about it, to thinking about career choices, and to going to Canada (eek!).
Thought I'd also post links to these pieces that have helped me with regard to thinking about the ethical issues surrounding online research.
Amy Bruckman 'Studying the Amateur Artist: A Persepective on Disguising Data Collected in Human Subjects Research on the Internet.'
and from Charles Ess and the AoIR Ethics Working Committee, 'Ethical decision -making and Internet Research.'

How many?

14 million blogs! This report on The Emergence of the Progressive Blogosphere has some interesting stats. and insights. (via The Republic of T.).

Swings and roundabouts

Whew. I'm back to normal today. I was getting worried. To explain - I've been suffering increasingly horrible hormonal upheaval these months. Last week I wasn't sure what was going on - sure there were a lot of things scooting around in my mind - dissertation, the 'move' that will follow it's completion, work, the usual financial woes etc... but I was apparantly failing to deal with it all very well and was frustrated with myself for letting these practicalities destroy my mood. Just when I started to feel better emotionally I got the two-day headache that is by now so familiar. That's lifted today and I am feeling human again. I vow to take my vitamin B this month, all month but to be honest it's really frustrating to wonder if this is it - am I going to lose a week out of every month to this kind of uselessness?

The Black Crowes

In the mood for some music listening last Saturday night - listening as opposed to just having music on in the background mind - I pulled out The Black Crowes' The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion. I haven't listened to this album for quite a long time though it has a life-time place among my favourite records ever. Playing it again reminded me just why I fell in love with this collection of songs in the first place and why I will always come back to them again and again and leave each time feeling that, even if all is not well with the world, there are those things that are just beautiful and brilliant. The record also pulls up memories of the time around when I first heard it, when I was really into rock music first - I remember when I heard they were coming to Dublin to promote the album I scurried down to the Sound Cellar to put my deposit down on a ticket (I have no idea if that place is still open but it plays a big part in my memories of the early nineties and all the shows I saved for and went to). Anyway, although the show was pure dynamite and they rocked my socks off I was absolutely gutted that they didn't play 'My Morning Song' which is a piece of pure rock music genius, my favourite song off the album, and...they played every single other song! On the next tour they played the Olympia Theatre on Dame Street which is, in my humble opinion, the absolute best venue in Dublin. I don't know if they had recognised the glaring omission in their playlist from the last gig but they bloody well played 'My Morning Song' first! Chris Robinson like a possessed scarecrow on the stage, singing with a voice that seemed far bigger than the body that it came out of. Happy days!

Blog related links

Via Culture Cat, Weblog Ethics Survey Results from Nanyang Technological University in Singapore.

From Rebecca Blood's series Bloggers on Blogging at Rebecca's Pocket, an interview with Blood's friend and fellow blogger Jessamyn West.

Notes from the BlogHer conference in California last weekend.