“Go be a teacher” -JS, 2009
“Wait, are vampires real?” -JA, 2010
“I just want to be numb” -SM, 2011
“You hide who you are and you should never do that. You should show who you are inside because it’s beautiful.” -SB, 2013
“You were cool as a cucumber” -JM, 2005
“We were two peas in a pod…” -JS, 2008
“We were drunk” -JM, 2009
“Lexi is the smartest girl I know” -JS, 2008
“You’re acting like I’m your boyfriend or something” -JS, 2008
“You know I do.” -JS, 2008
“You’re an attractive girl, you’ll find someone” -JM, 2006
“I can’t do this anymore” -SM, 2011
“You’re hysterical. Are you off your medication?” -Dad, 2008
“I love her. If she were a lesbian, I would be with her.” -SW, 2012
“In six months, I’m going to be living in her basement with her” -JS, 2008
“You smile a lot” -SB, 2013
I don’t want to be an afterthought.
I want to be interesting enough
to illuminate the room and I want
to be obviously beautiful,
not have this
subtle kind of beauty you seem to realize
over time. Notice me
me when I’m not paying attention to you.
Savor each glance and wonder
how I move
with such elegance. Tell people
about me. Tell people about me.
Goodbye old friend, man of the sea
so now you’d like to forget about me
but oh the way you used to look at me
a locked chest, in another’s hands, my key
you always said he didn’t deserve me
you were there when he deserted me
So grown with your apartment in the city
you would unhook my bra publicly
hold em’, hot dogs, and shots of whiskey
you held me when I got sickly
singing Sheryl Crow you proposed to me
with admiration of my complexity
and the assumption I could make you happy
in the guest bed your hands fell asleep
I rolled over despondently
since then you had a baby
got married, joined the navy
I’m still shocked we don’t speak
I shouldn’t be.
I’m not a violent person,
but I’m submissive, so
I punched him when
he asked me to.
“You’ve never punched anyone?”
My polite disposition trumps
my repressed anger.
“Don’t you want to know
what it feels like?” My knuckles
have always ached
to crash into a jaw,
but not his. ”Just
give me 30%” My fingers
curl into a ball. ”Ten…nine..
I remember how I was taught
to punch in TKD 10 years ago.
“four…three…two…” I twist
my fist, winding up. I just
want it to sting a little.
And my knuckles met
his jaw and the bone
fought back. And I shook
my hand while he shook
his head. ”I felt nothing”
-a drink mixed with 2
parts disappointment, 1
part relief. Terrified,
yet hopeful that I hit hard
enough to leave a bruise.
moments taken for
granted while committed,
the reassuring kisses.
Also, my best friend in 6th grade shared the terrorist poem with her class for a project and I felt so honored. My poem having that big of an effect on her is what made me continue writing. She also started writing poetry soon after that and now she lives in New York and shares her poems at open poetry readings. (looking back it was written only several months after 9/11, so the topic was still tender…but I’m still very touched by her action)
Today I cleaned my room and starting going through papers. I found a shit ton of my poems (30+ I have no recollection of writing) and the first two poems I ever wrote. I want to share them, even though they are embarrassing and extremely preachy. (Don’t make fun of me! Remember, I was 12)
What a smile those terrorists wore
when they ended peace and started war
The man with the bomb in his shoe
and the people who supported him too
They stand there making threats
we we find them, they will soon regret
and we will never forget
It’s not hard at all to find
Terrorists are not in the right state of mind.
Headlights! He saw when he slammed on the brakes
another innocent life a drunk driver takes
He was young, only 17
think of all the thing he would’ve seen
He’ll never fall in love, never get married
His parents will sob where he is buried
He wanted to play football, go to Yale
But now the drunk sits in jail
And when he gets out, what do you think?
He go to the bar and buy himself a drink
Drunk driving hurts,yourself and others
Don’t create more mourning mothers
So the next time you drink and drive a car,
have a designated driver come to the bar.
Dreaming within a dream.
Half awakened by your call.
“I’m coming home.”
You gave in in
the inner dream.
I had to dream in double
to get you here.
Weak and warm.
Ready to stop running-
posting mainly for Maddy bc this is relevant to her interests
In Adams’ discussion of psychoanalysis, she first focuses mainly on summarizing Freud’s stages of development and the Oedipus complex. In the plainest terms, the Oedipus complex happens in the phallic stage and is when the son (or daughter) wants to sexually possess the mother and in turn feels a desire to kill the father. There is a positive and a negative constellation that results from going through the phallic stage where the Oedipus complex is experienced.
Adams then frames the story and artistic representations of David and Goliath in Oedipal terms. In terms of the story, she reads David “as the young boy who eliminates the father in order to win a woman and become rich” (221). Adams also identifies three father figures in this story: Saul, Goliath, and his biological father. She also notes, “David’s decapitation of Goliath is read by the unconscious as castration” (221). By her giving an oedipal reading of the story, it sets Adams up to psychoanalyze the artistic representations.
Adams begins with Donatello’s David, which she believes is a product of the artist’s negative oedipal constellation. This resulted in Donatello’s homosexuality and his David is in turn effeminate, narcissistic, and erotic. Adams uses Bernini’s David as an example of an artist displaying a positive oedipal constellation. Bernini’s David is in action and performs without hesitation. Adams draws upon Bernini’s biography to exemplify this analysis and mentions the support he received by positive paternal figures.
Adams also mentions Michelangelo and Caravaggio’s images of David’s story and makes some interesting observations regarding psychoanalysis. She describes Michelangelo’s process of sculpting David from a large piece of marble known as “the Giant” as a reenactment of his oedipal experience. Adams admits to not knowing much about Caravaggio’s biography, but brings up his suggested paternal conflicts, violent arrests, and struggle against his bisexual nature. Caravaggio’s imaging of the story is unique because he identifies himself with the decapitated head of Goliath, not David (the victor). Adams suggests that this identification symbolizes him as “defeated by homosexual love, which has placed him in a precarious dependency on a younger man” (226). Adams mentions Caravaggio’s other representations of decapitation and concludes that his images showcase both the positive and negative constellations of the Oedipus complex.
A pro of a Psychoanalytical approach is that it requires the viewer to look deeper into an artwork and try to figure it out, like a puzzle. The act of analyzing every detail can bring about a new appreciation for a piece. I feel like the cons outweigh the pros with this approach though. Like I previously stated, psychoanalysis does not give you concrete information about the piece or the artist, a majority of it is mere speculation. I also think it is problematic because it is based solely around the theories and work of Freud, most of which has been disproven or questioned by modern psychologists and psychiatrists.