Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LGbTn4s_Ib8
Lyrics: http://www.metrolyrics.com/the-riddle-lyrics-five-for-fighting.html
John Ondrasik, the man behind the band Five for Fighting, is a musical genius. All of his songs have the same staggering impact- the lyrics provoke thought while the piano keeps you grounded to the song and enriches your feelings. The Riddle is a huge hit, and with good reason.
Rather than 100 years, which sweetly laments good times in your life that have passed, the Riddle encourages you to recognize the great moments while you're there, and to realize the impact the moments will have on you later and to truly enjoy everything, moment. by. moment. He enforces the idea that you can't just live in your own little shell and hope the world treats you well in the end. The verse where he is talking to his son really struck me:
"Picked up my kid from school today
Did you learn anything? Cuz in the world today
You can't live in a castle far away
Now talk to me, come talk to me"
He's telling us that we have to put ourselves out there. It's impossible to ignore the people around us and the situations all over the world, because some aspect of it touches us everyday, whether it be in small doses in our suburbs or if we're right in the middle of a conflict. He wants his kid to realise there's always more that yourself.
His kid responds with incredible wisdom- telling his dad that he realizes how small people are individually, and we can take something from that. As a person we may just be one more living, breathing organism on the Earth, but we can change that depending on our choices and how we live our lives. The way we relate and interact with other people is what makes our life matter, and it's strange to think that everything we do is shaping others. His kid finishes his speech by asking his dad to play a game with him, and his dad does. The power of his dad spending that time to play with his kid is incredible when you think of how it affects their relationship.
That's an interesting thought... to what extent are we defined by others' actions? If everything other people do around me affects me, am I defined more by them or my own choices? Do our everyday choices affect others more than myself? To keep that in mind makes it harder to dismiss our actions as meaningless, anything from how we walk into school every morning to if I say hi to that 'loner' in my math class.
Is the reason for the world to make it the best for others? Is it to put others before myself, and to get every ounce of joy I can out of it? In the beginning of the song, a wise old man advises the singer to "catch a Dylan song or some eclipse of the moon". If we enjoy every moment fully as it comes, we will appreciate and enjoy the people we experience life with. Enjoy how everyone is connected. The question of the riddle is how we can fully immerse ourselves in living. And I can only learn that by getting out there and finding out for myself.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Connection: The Act.
Or should I say 'the acting'?
Mr. Allen (you?) has given us an opportunity to think outside of the box. The 'Same Scene, Different Setting' prompt is giving our class a chance to work on something that doesn't have a single right answer, and to express our opinions through a different medium- someone else's words. For once, it's not about what we say, it's all about how we say it. Our creativity isn't measured by the lines we speak, but what new and creative light we present them in. And for me, and anyone else interested in the arts, this is a big deal. Depending on how predictable you like things, this either takes the pressure off or puts a heck of a lot more on. True, you have your words preplanned, but now you have to make them mean something- without supporting evidence or a follow-up explanation.
In a way, this is reminiscent of what I said about dance: once you have the steps, you have to make something original out of what's already there. You can't explain it, just like you can't explain a joke. It just has to fit together. You can be limited by your materials or you can excel with them. With this project, we have to make a 400 year old play relate to another concept- and you know with our class, there will be a ton of concepts to relate it to. The problem is picking what you want to express with your scene. And it's difficult! The connection has to be clear with out being patronizingly simple, but it has to have a deeper meaning that connects with a character or situation. In any other class, there would be the kid who would comment that 'a Shakespeare play has nothing to do with us now', but we know better. He wrote about human nature, and that's always relatable. It's impossible to write a play about anything without including our values and how we treat life. It's so completely woven into the way we think that separating our literature from ourselves could just not happen.
When everything is about human nature, we can never be limited by our materials when considering connections. They're everywhere. A character in an alien love story could remind you of your neighbor Mrs. Collins who treats her cat the exact same way the alien Aksnog does his pet slimeball. Or a tragedy could remind you of the childishness in us all.
So in this way, this project is like dancing, or painting, or any type of art- it's about bringing out something under the surface. It's connecting you to everything around you, because it can all relate back to you on some level. Connections are everywhere, not just physically but also when the way things make you feel remind you of something else. If this seems too space age-y and invokes images of Buddhists chanting 'karma' over and over, then that just proves my point. The previous sentence, class, would be a connection.
Mr. Allen (you?) has given us an opportunity to think outside of the box. The 'Same Scene, Different Setting' prompt is giving our class a chance to work on something that doesn't have a single right answer, and to express our opinions through a different medium- someone else's words. For once, it's not about what we say, it's all about how we say it. Our creativity isn't measured by the lines we speak, but what new and creative light we present them in. And for me, and anyone else interested in the arts, this is a big deal. Depending on how predictable you like things, this either takes the pressure off or puts a heck of a lot more on. True, you have your words preplanned, but now you have to make them mean something- without supporting evidence or a follow-up explanation.
In a way, this is reminiscent of what I said about dance: once you have the steps, you have to make something original out of what's already there. You can't explain it, just like you can't explain a joke. It just has to fit together. You can be limited by your materials or you can excel with them. With this project, we have to make a 400 year old play relate to another concept- and you know with our class, there will be a ton of concepts to relate it to. The problem is picking what you want to express with your scene. And it's difficult! The connection has to be clear with out being patronizingly simple, but it has to have a deeper meaning that connects with a character or situation. In any other class, there would be the kid who would comment that 'a Shakespeare play has nothing to do with us now', but we know better. He wrote about human nature, and that's always relatable. It's impossible to write a play about anything without including our values and how we treat life. It's so completely woven into the way we think that separating our literature from ourselves could just not happen.
When everything is about human nature, we can never be limited by our materials when considering connections. They're everywhere. A character in an alien love story could remind you of your neighbor Mrs. Collins who treats her cat the exact same way the alien Aksnog does his pet slimeball. Or a tragedy could remind you of the childishness in us all.
So in this way, this project is like dancing, or painting, or any type of art- it's about bringing out something under the surface. It's connecting you to everything around you, because it can all relate back to you on some level. Connections are everywhere, not just physically but also when the way things make you feel remind you of something else. If this seems too space age-y and invokes images of Buddhists chanting 'karma' over and over, then that just proves my point. The previous sentence, class, would be a connection.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Dialectics: Expression and Dance
Expression and Dance:
At first glance, this comparison seems blatantly obvious... until you're a dancer. The world naively considers dance as an expression in itself, because a good dancer portrays a raw emotion that simple talking, walking, or running can't express. But there's the catch; it has to be a good dancer. Harnessing that emotion and making it clear and beautiful to watch is tough, to say the least.
Technique makes a dance materialize, but expression makes it beautiful. The most precisely executed step can look awkward and ugly if only half of the body is engaged. Emotion comes easily only when your mind is focused and concentrated, yet at the same time you have to let the steps carry you away. If that sounds complicated, it's because it is. It's a tender balance that makes the difference between a dance and dancing. What makes it beautiful and real comes from how you feel and how you capture an emotion and present it through movement.
My friend and I are choreographing a dance for a club at school. It is honestly one of the most difficult projects I've been faced with. To explain it the best I can: a song is around three minutes. Three minutes passes in the blink of an eye when you're out with friends, reading, or watching TV, but when you have to fill in the movements in those three minutes? It feels like forever. A moment is a step, a turn, a leap. I'll be relieved to have come up with a combination for a line in the song, only to be faced with the fact that it's just 5 seconds. Every move must be deliberate; there's no room for weak arms or standing still. And if that wasn't taxing enough, then we have to present our moves, make them speak to others without explanation or endless excuses. If it doesn't work, the moment has passed and you just have to move on. It's impossible to stop and say that "Well you see, that move was inspired by a clock, the rhythm of time is represented by the jerkiness of the arms here..." your audience has to get it, whether consciously or unconsciously.
We present it with our faces, with the way our bodies slump to hint defeat, straighten to declare confidence. It's hard to hide concentration- teachers say they can see it plastered on my face when I'm learning a new combination. But we 'must make it look effortless'. This motto is etched into us from the first jump. Whether leaping, extending, curling, spinning, we must think as a dancer but be a character in the same second. Expression makes the dancer, makes her relatable to the people sitting in the plush seats of the auditorium. The dance is just the footsteps, when it all comes down to it. It's our job to make them speak.
At first glance, this comparison seems blatantly obvious... until you're a dancer. The world naively considers dance as an expression in itself, because a good dancer portrays a raw emotion that simple talking, walking, or running can't express. But there's the catch; it has to be a good dancer. Harnessing that emotion and making it clear and beautiful to watch is tough, to say the least.
Technique makes a dance materialize, but expression makes it beautiful. The most precisely executed step can look awkward and ugly if only half of the body is engaged. Emotion comes easily only when your mind is focused and concentrated, yet at the same time you have to let the steps carry you away. If that sounds complicated, it's because it is. It's a tender balance that makes the difference between a dance and dancing. What makes it beautiful and real comes from how you feel and how you capture an emotion and present it through movement.
My friend and I are choreographing a dance for a club at school. It is honestly one of the most difficult projects I've been faced with. To explain it the best I can: a song is around three minutes. Three minutes passes in the blink of an eye when you're out with friends, reading, or watching TV, but when you have to fill in the movements in those three minutes? It feels like forever. A moment is a step, a turn, a leap. I'll be relieved to have come up with a combination for a line in the song, only to be faced with the fact that it's just 5 seconds. Every move must be deliberate; there's no room for weak arms or standing still. And if that wasn't taxing enough, then we have to present our moves, make them speak to others without explanation or endless excuses. If it doesn't work, the moment has passed and you just have to move on. It's impossible to stop and say that "Well you see, that move was inspired by a clock, the rhythm of time is represented by the jerkiness of the arms here..." your audience has to get it, whether consciously or unconsciously.
We present it with our faces, with the way our bodies slump to hint defeat, straighten to declare confidence. It's hard to hide concentration- teachers say they can see it plastered on my face when I'm learning a new combination. But we 'must make it look effortless'. This motto is etched into us from the first jump. Whether leaping, extending, curling, spinning, we must think as a dancer but be a character in the same second. Expression makes the dancer, makes her relatable to the people sitting in the plush seats of the auditorium. The dance is just the footsteps, when it all comes down to it. It's our job to make them speak.
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