Sunday, November 23, 2008

essay #4

Say cheese and fake it (Not sure about this title)

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. This may be true, but what about the thousands of other words not represented in that very moment? Where does this leave the moments before and after the camera snaps? Even within that very moment, the human psyche allows us to be in a million different places at once. Hundreds of thoughts, feelings, and ideas can float through our minds just within the few seconds it takes to snap a picture. So where are these in the photograph? Well I guess that depends on who the viewer is. If the person looking at the photo was there, they might have a better idea of what was going on than someone who wasn’t there. Even the person(s) who are in the photo may not remember exactly what was going on in their mind at that point in time, when looking at the photo years or even months after it was taken. Beyond this, how real is it when posing for a picture? We smile for pictures to look happy and like we’re having fun. Is this truly the case? Are we just faking it for the camera? A photograph can be a great reminder of that point in time, but it can also be one big lie that we can make others (and sometimes even ourselves) believe.


I found a picture that was taken of my mother, my brother, and me on a recent vacation to Montego Bay, Jamaica. This particular photograph was taken by a tour guide while we were climbing Dunn’s River Falls. The photo shows the three of us squatting down in the rushing water of the falls, leaning against the rocks on which we were climbing to make it up to the top of the waterfall. We are all smiling in the photo and I look fairly relaxed. What the photo doesn’t show is that the water was freezing cold, I was cranky, and I was NOT in the mood to be climbing up any waterfalls. In addition to this, I was also annoyed because some of the people on the tour were being particularly loud and obnoxious, and as I’m sure you could guess, my mood was not conducive to these people at the time. It was more my mood than the people. I realize that these people were also on vacation and they were having a good time and letting themselves have fun with the tour, unlike myself. I do this to myself often, and it is something I often regret, but I digress.
Upon closer examination of my facial expression, I am smiling, but my eyes tell that I am not entirely comfortable. If you knew me well enough, you’d be able to look at this photo and know that something was not right. All the way up the falls we were stopped periodically to take more posed pictures and do other silly touristy things. Just for the record, none of them made me feel any better. Nonetheless, although I was unhappy throughout, by the time it was over I was thankful and able to acknowledge at that point that this was a good experience and that I was glad I did it. At least I look happier in the pictures than I was in my mind and that I was probable expressing when not posing for a picture.


This reminds me of an incident on a dinner cruise in Mexico. My boyfriend and I went on vacation and decided to go on this dinner cruise to have a nice, relaxing evening on our last night in Mexico. It was pleasant, but we noticed that we were the youngest people on the boat, and the second youngest couple was the newlyweds sitting next to us who must have been at least five to ten years older than us. Interestingly enough, we were between the newlyweds and two sisters and their husbands, all of whom looked to be in their sixties. After a while, someone of the 3 groups of us took out a camera, and the others soon followed suit. Trying to take pictures of ourselves by ourselves didn’t work very well, so now each group was offering to take pictures of the others. One of the older women said she would take a picture of Dan and me. Well after Dan crawled under the table in order to get to my side and sit next to me for the picture, we took a decent picture of us sitting there smiling politely. So the woman says something like, “You guys are too young to be on this cruise. You should be out having fun. I’ll take another picture- this time look like you’re having fun!” Dan thought this was a great idea and threw his arms in the air like he was having a great time on some party boat and I started laughing because of the woman’s comment and Dan’s reaction, and that’s when she snapped the second photo. It turned out to have a completely different feel to it, even though we are in the same place, the same position. It was all a matter of the context.
When comparing these two photos, it is easy to determine that they were taken in the same day and around the same time. If someone who wasn’t there didn’t know the story behind the two pictures, however, they wouldn’t understand why the two are so much different in energy and expressions. The first, calm and subdued, the second, lively and looking more like we’re having fun, just as the photographer wanted. So which of these was a true expression of how we were feeling at the time? Were they both? What’s interesting is that I prefer the first picture, and Dan likes the second one. This, if you knew both of us, is very fitting of our personalities. I am quiet and much more reserved. Dan, though he has his moments of being calm, is often more outgoing, loud, and energetic. In this case, whose story are the pictures telling? Are either of them an accurate depiction of our thoughts and feelings at the moment? It’s hard to say.


I guess the real question here is, if a picture is worth a thousand words, whose words are they? And are these words real or posed? We can be and portray anything we want to once we know that a picture is going to be taken. It is at this point that we have to decide what we want the world to see. Even when we aren’t happy or having fun, we can throw on a smile and trick anyone looking at the picture that we are. There are even times in which looking at photos gives the subject of the photo a different feeling about that time than they actually had in the moment. Photographs allow us to look back on some of the best times of our lives and relive cherished memories in an instant. We can choose to be actors on film, portraying a certain character in whatever circumstance the photo is being taken. Although there are usually ways to see through the mask put on for the camera, knowing the story behind the photos can open up a whole new world of implications, ideas, and vocabulary to use in the thousand words represented within that picture.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

blog 18

Like everyone said in the comments of my last blog, I am going to take one picture, describe it, and then go on to describe the story behind it- the things you wouldnt know from just looking at the picture itself. (I don't know what picture I'm going to use yet though...)

My reflections from there are going to be about why we take certain pictures and why we choose to leave some things out, as well as how this background information can change someone's perception of the photograph.

Hopefully I'll be able to find the time to write into all of this. Ha..

Monday, November 17, 2008

blog #16

for my 4th essay I think I'm going to write about photographs, and why we choose to take pictures of certain things and leave out others. The story behind the pictures is also important. You can show someone a photograph of that one moment, but having been there, you (and whoever else was there) know exactly what was going on at that time-- what the context of the photo was. I think I'm going to try to work on that.

I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to do it yet, but that's where I am at this point....

Thursday, November 13, 2008

essay #3

(I can't think of a good title, and I don't know why the font isn't formatting right. sorry)

Love, Loyalty, and Friendship. Isn’t that what any good relationship should consist of?

Wildwood/ Cape May, NJ summer 2005

Despite my being sick, we were having a great time in Wildwood, duct taping cheerios boxes to the refrigerator in the “Pier 666”, and bouncing back and forth between hotel, beach, boardwalk, and the local Wawa. Toward the end of our trip, Danielle, Kevin, Strauss, Dan, and I decided to drive over the bridge to go on a whale/dolphin-watching cruise, and then check out the shops and whatever else we could find to do in Cape May.

After the dolphin watching was over, we drove further into town and happened upon a small shopping center with several shops selling random trinkets and souvenirs. In one shop, there was an array of sterling silver jewelry on display, and I was in the market for a new ring. Amongst the inventory, I found two rings that I liked, one, a heart with small grayish, greenish stones, and the other, a plain, silver Claddagh ring. Though I didn’t really know the meaning or significance of a Claddagh ring, I knew it had something to do with the Irish, I liked it, it fit, and I am Irish – a fact that I felt entitled me to wear the ring, even though by looking at me you probably wouldn’t know that I am partially Irish. So I purchased both rings, and wore them for the next two years. After leaving Wildwood with my friends, it occurred to me at some point that maybe I should do some research, and figure out exactly what this ring on my finger meant.

Home/Ireland summer 2005/17th century

From what I gathered, there are a few different legends about the origins of the Claddagh symbol. The most common one that I found is about a man named Richard Joyce from the Irish village of Claddagh. Supposedly, he created this symbol in the 17th century while working with a goldsmith in the Mediterranean after being kidnapped and sold by pirates on a voyage to the Caribbean. It is said that he returned to Ireland in 1689, and it turns out that the woman whom Joyce was courting before the trip was still waiting faithfully for the return of her true love. At this point, Joyce gave her the ring as a symbol of their love: The hands representing their friendship, the crown to symbolize their loyalty and lasting fidelity, and the heart signifying their eternal love for each other. Since the 17th century, the Claddagh has come to be a symbol of love, loyalty, friendship, and fidelity worldwide.

The next thing I needed to figure out was how to wear the ring, since the placement of it indicates different levels of involvement. To wear the ring on the right hand with the top of the crown and heart facing toward the fingertips means that the wearer is still considering love. This is more a symbol of friendship or love that it still blooming, and not quite to the next level yet. When worn on the right hand with the top of the crown and heart facing toward the wrist, this signifies that the wearer’s heart is taken. Someone who is engaged would wear a Claddagh ring this way. Finally, if worn on the left hand with the top of the crown and heart facing inward, toward the wrist, this means that the wearer is married. Traditionally, both men and women wear the Claddagh ring as their wedding ring to represent their love and devotion to each other.

“Okay, that’s a cute story. I can see that”, I thought. So I stuck the ring on my right hand, crown and heart facing out toward my fingertips, and work it for the next 2 years.

New Haven, CT November 2007

It was the weekend before Thanksgiving, and Dan and I were on our way up to New Haven. My brother goes to school up there, so we were going up to watch him play rugby, and just enjoy a nice, relaxing weekend away. In addition to the game, we had also planned to do some shopping and visit a few museums in downtown New Haven, and then my brother was going to come back home with us for his Thanksgiving break.

When we finally got to our hotel after hours of sitting in traffic, Dan and I got settled and then decided to head into town to see what we could find. After finding our way to the downtown area, walking around in various stores for a while, and eating a nice dinner, we went back to the hotel to rest up so we could get up early for the game the next morning.

The next morning we got up at a time that felt way too early thanks to the uncomfortable sprits of sleep we were able to salvage from the lovely hotel bed. When I asked my brother the day before the name of the rugby field and how to get there, his reply was, “ I don’t know, I just get on the bus with the rest of the team. Look at the website. They have a map on there.” This is a typical response from my brother. Though he is extremely intelligent, his common sense skills and alertness to the world around him is often lacking, to say the least. Needless to say, even with the picture of a map on the website which shows a big red rectangle as the field, covering the already blurry street names in a place I have never been to before, Dan and I got lost and did not make it in time to see my brother’s game. Rather than wasting the day being upset, we decided to move on to the other things we had planned to do in New Haven. After some more shopping, going to the Peabody Museum, and eating lunch, we drove back toward my brother’s dorm, parked in a parking garage, and went into some nearby shops while waiting for my brother to get back.

After waiting about an hour and a half, my brother finally called to say that he was on his way back to his dorm. Upon hearing this, Dan and I went back toward the car to wait. Well, after waiting for what felt like two hours, I called my brother to find out what was going on. As it turns out, he didn’t think to pack ahead of time to come home for a week anyway, so even though he still wasn’t back yet, I found out that he wasn’t ready to go anyway (Dan and I had been ready to leave for an hour already). Although I should have anticipated this from my brother, I didn’t, and now Dan was cranky because he was tired of waiting and tired in general from not sleeping well the night before. This, in turn, started an argument, and then I was upset and cranky too. We didn’t speak for a while, and then we both just got over it and decided to walk to the dorms in hopes of speeding up the packing process.

It was at this point that we found the small Irish shop across the street from the parking garage. I had stopped wearing my Claddagh ring from Cape May a while before, and Dan kept saying that he wanted to buy me a new one. When we saw the shop, we went in to see if there was anything we liked (and because we needed to waste some time).

There it was in the showcase. A pretty Claddagh ring that was exactly what I wanted. Sterling silver with an emerald colored stone for the heart and decorative diamond-y looking stones on the sides of the hands. It was prefect, and it fit. Within minutes I had spotted it, tried it on, it was purchased, and soon after being placed in the bag, it was on my ring finger. Now we were both happy. Me, because I had the ring I wanted, him because I was happy and because he was finally able to get me the perfect Claddagh ring. Even better, by this time my brother was just about ready to go, and we just had to meet him at his dorm to help carry his things up the street to my car. Shortly thereafter, we were back in traffic again, on our way back home to New Jersey.

Home November 2008

Looking back on the time that has passed from Wildwood in 2005 to today, it’s funny how much some things have changed, but others have stayed the same. The other couple that Dan and I went to Wildwood with are no longer together, and we see them only occasionally whereas back in 2005, it was almost everyday. Strauss is still around, but he is a completely different person now than he was back then. Dan and I are still together, though. Our relationship has changed, had its ups and downs, but so far, we have endured them all. At this point we are pushing forward, and who knows, maybe some day I will wear the ring with the crown and heart pointed toward my wrist instead of my fingertips.

The significance of the Claddagh ring goes deeper than just a nice gift. Symbolically, it makes lots of sense. Love, loyalty, and friendship. That’s fitting. We are each other’s best friend, and we certainly have love and loyalty between us. Even when we fight, it’s still there.

Dan and I both also come from partially Irish backgrounds. Although my family doesn’t really hold any Irish traditions or really display the heritage, it is there. Dan’s family is much more into their Irish heritage, and I feel that this is kind of a link between us. It’s nice to have a link to your heritage. Not only is my ring a link to our Irish heritage, but it is also a constant reminder of our relationship and the years we have been together.

Though I didn’t really know the significance of the Claddagh ring when I first bought it three and a half years ago, it turns out that it has meant a lot more to me than I was ever truly conscious of before sitting down thinking about it to write this essay. It is a symbol of the past, present, and future. Love, loyalty, and friendship. This little ring represents ideas far greater than one may realize upon looking at it, whether they knew the meaning or not.

Love, loyalty, and friendship. What more could you need?

Sunday, November 9, 2008

blog 15

Places that are/were important to me

-my old house
-my grandma's house
-my house now
-schools
-friend's houses

I went back to where my old house is... it still looks pretty much the same. nothing has changed except the people. and they have a different door than we did. besides that, nothing much to note... These person/place/object blogs and journal entries really aren't working for me..

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Blog #14

For essay #3 I'm going to use my write about my claddagh ring.

It's going to be set into 3 or 4 segments based on places. (Wildwood/Cape May NJ, New Haven CT, Ireland, and possibly home.)

From this ring, I'm going to discuss relationships and heritage (to an extent)

ummm yeah I don't know what else to write for this post. I know the basic outline of my essay and where I think I want it to go, but that might change once I sit down and start writing. I only got to the first 2 sentences so far hahaha It's been a long day...