Short Takes: January

January by Verlyn Klinkenborg pg. 112-114

This essay revolves around a man who lives with horses and what he takes away from living such a casual life. He speaks of how baling twine is such a significant part of his life even though it seems to be such an insignificant piece of string. Throughout the essay, he shows how the twine becomes "second nature" while it helps him connect with his horses.

"It transmits the dexterity of your fingers, the guilelessness of you intentions. It becomes a subtle tool. It allows horse and human to moor each other."

To anyone who enjoys blue-collar work, I suggest reading this essay. It helps make you appreciate dirty, hard work even more.

Well, If She Smokes...

When asked to describe the scent of someone in my life, I first thought of my latest college fling. She was quite the anti-type of lady I usually talk to. She was the girl who wore a black leather jacket and smoked a pack of Marlboros a day. Looking back, I feel like I was going through a quarter-life crisis. 

On a regular basis, she would smell smokey. Not the kind of smokiness from a fire place, but the smokiness of an ash tray. It sounds disgusting but when it mixed with her cherry blossom scented lotion from Bath and Body Works, it became a balance of sweet and smokey. Its near impossible to describe exactly the specifications of each scent. 

I can hardly explain her taste. I feel gross trying to think back on what she tasted like. Whenever I would steal a kiss, I would get a kick of bold tobacco from her freshly smoked lips. If I had to describe the taste of tobacco, I would say it is 'earthly.' If I had to describe the taste of earth, I would say...christ!

Sometimes I would get a mouthful of hair when laying beside her and that was the most complicated taste. I don't know how something with so much texture could be so bland. I can't even describe bland. Dammit Ackerman!

Whenever going for a social smoke after a couple drinks, I am always reminded of my leather wearing girl who mixed her cigarette smoke with cherry blossoms.

I thinks its hard to describe smells and tastes in general let alone the specifics smells and tastes of one person. Hopefully the lessons of Ackerman will one day open my senses to the superiority of her own.

Smoke and Pine

Last weekend, I had the opportunity to go out to my best friend's cabin and enjoy a nice, relaxing bonfire. Over the course of my outdoor career, I became in love with the smell of smoke rolling off of wet logs and the general smell of wood. Whenever  a puff of that smokey scent floats up against my face, the smell takes me back to so many memories. While my eyes begin to burn, I begin to think about the first time I became immersed in that sweet smell. It takes me back to the first memory I have with my dad. It takes me to the time of when he use to take me out chopping firewood. We use to go in the middle of nowhere, talk of how annoying my older sister was, and how we thought the Indians were going to do this season. It takes me back to when I went to Colorado over the summer. It reminds me of how I rediscovered my campground (with my friends there eating) after being lost for 3 hours on my own and coming back to a nice, warm fire. It made me feel safe. It takes me back to all the campfires and beers I had with my friends, sharing stories of lover's past. 

As it is easy to see, this one smell helps take me back to some of the loveliest and scariest moments of my life. I have constructed one highway in my brain with many scenic routes that are lovely to take. Its nice to soak them in. It amazes me how one of my favorite smells takes me on a roller coaster of emotions and memories.

Short Takes: Getting Rid of the Gun

Getting Rid of the Gun by Joyce Thompson; Pages 314-317

With such a plethora of choice for our first Short Takes assignment, it was tough deciding which to choose. Getting Rid of the Gun seemed safe due to the title reminding me of the Vampire Weekend song Giving Up the Gun.

In the piece, Thompson talks of a gun owned by her (or a fictional character's) father. Once found,
a few dark secrets of the deceased father began to surface. However, the darkest secret, the secret of what was done with said gun, never came up. It seems as Thompson is telling us that many, no matter how pure in society eyes, have their own skeletons. As much as we try to put influential figures on a pedestal, we must come to terms with the thought that those we look up to can be just as evil as anyone else.

On a lighter note....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bccKotFwzoY

Sorry Montaigne...

After browsing through some of my fellow classmates' blog entries of Montaigne, I sadly realized I was to emulate and not critique the poor man...thus we have take two...

Of Drink Of Brown

It has been told by many of late greats, that the drink helps many of those of lackluster surroundings: lonely homes, dingy pubs, absent minds. The brown bitter smell of its lonesome takes those to paradises unimaginable by clearheaded fools in scenarios where paradise is of the non deserving. It helps those of  close mindedness unlatch to the men about him. As one great earnestly comes to terms...

"I drink to make other people more interesting" - Ernest Hemingway

The brown, stiff treat never betrays the friend of old or new, Nor man of loyal never betrays his brown friend. Men of centuries old come to the front opening with utmost promise to listen and understand what thy brown confidante seeks throughout the night.

Of most humble men bring books of holy and of high to become acquaint with this drink of brown in the hopes of closer with their inevitable departure. Disdained by these actions, the drink of brown responds...

"Alcohol may be a man's worst enemy, but the bible says love your enemy" - Frank Sinatra

Montaigne

 The true conversation with the self, the bouncing of thoughts connected within his own mind

When reading the essays of Montaigne such as Of Idleness and That Our Mind Hinders Itself, one feels like they are trying to piece together a puzzle from the greatest "Self-conversationalists." When reading Of Idleness, it is easy to see how Montaigne intertwines several different ideas with only one subject. He goes from talking of weeds, to seeding women, and finally wraps up with a horse breaking free. Even though individually these entities have nothing in common, each is essential to the overall theme of the essay. In That Our Mind Hinders Itself, we see Montaigne talk to himself with experiences to help project his train of thought. When he talks of the Stoics, he does not mention them as an example directly related to the overall theme of his essay, rather, they were used as a catalyst for the conversation. Since there is no other mind to bounce ideas off of, Montaigne is responsible for playing the role of listener and critic to his own thoughts. The Stoics are in the same as the intertwining of Of Idleness and is just another one of his tools that he uses throughout his essays.