Friday 28 December 2012

Countries

A childhood game my brother and I used to play often and still do, was the List Game. (Otherwise known as Name Game.) That was when we took it in turns to name something in a specific category, and whoever ran out of things first is the loser. Naming countries is quite a favourite.

My brother and I are very competitive, and we tend to last quite a while until one of us gives up, usually my brother. Just kidding! Afterwards, we'd usually check the world map, and see what countries we'd missed. Always, there'd be a name unrecognised. Burkina Faso, Angola, Suriname. It's occurred to me recently that my Geographical and Historical history is actually quite poor., b

Heck, I'm from the UK and I don't even know all the countries that are part of the Commonwealth.

(And yes, I'm cringing at that statement too.)

So I've decided to spin the globe once in a while, and write something interesting about that country. We could all wikipedia a name and find out numbers and dates and things that might be a bit sketchy, but I hope to research at least one interesting fact about each country. Technically, that's 196 future posts if you count Taiwan. (Which I do!)

It can't be called 'Travel writing', but each new entry will be under the 'Profiles' page.

Tuesday 25 December 2012

Samuel Heinicke, the "Artifical Method" and Deafness

For a couple of months I have been interested in writing fiction with a deaf main character, and for even longer, I have been interested in learning BSL. But the more I research, the more I realise how little I know about the world of deafness.

Take the "Artificial Method", also known as the "German Method", for teaching Deaf students how to communicate with the power of speech. According to an extract, 'It takes a much longer time to educate the pupils by this system than by any other methods, and more painful to the efforts on the part of the pupil. Indeed in many cases it is so painful to the poor deaf-mute as to cause blood to issue from the mouth.' Canadian Illustrated News, August 1st, 1874.

This method is thought to have been refined and made popular by Samuel Heinicke, a man who
rejected the inheritance of his farming background and eventually opened a school that specialised in teaching deaf children. Samuel Heinickke sought to use a logical, systemanic approach, inspired by earlier European oral advocates and teachers, Amman and Baron van Helmont. (Margret A. Winzer 1993)

The school still runs in Germany. Although the school itself taught language to the deaf in various ways including sign, reading and writing, he claimed "It is only by learning articulated speech that a deaf person gains position in a hearing society” (Eriksson, p54). This method opposed the system of instruction in Paris, created by Épée, who was keen to focus on sign language. This can be understood further in his 'L'instruction des sourds et muets par la voie des signes méthodiques.' The instruction of the deaf and dumb by the sign method, 1776.

Admittingly, I had no idea about the Artifical/German Method and still know very little about it. A quick search reveals that he sometimes used the senses of taste to help bring this about, but I think I'm going to look into this a little more later.

I'm also reading "Deafening" by Frances Itani, which focuses on a main character who is deaf, and uses the "Artificial Method" amongst other methods of communication. May do a book review later.

Further Information:
- Samuel Heinicke was inspired by a book called "Surdus loquens," or "The Speaking Deaf," which was explained how a European doctor taught the deaf to speak.
- http://lifeprint.com/asl101/pages-layout/heinicke-samuel.htm -- Interesting introduction with a good bibliography for broadening research.

Recommended reading:
The History of Special education: From Isolation to Intergration by Margret A. Winzer, 1993.

Updated 2nd of Jan, 2013.

Hmm

Not satisifed with this blog... Might restart...

Tuesday 11 December 2012

Stale bread

 I missed a seminar today, which turned out to be a blessing. The tutor gave strange things to write about. While procrastinating on work, I attempted to write some of them, spending an minute's thought on each one. None of these writings are serious.




Write a piece of writing starting "When I die, I will miss"

When I die, I will miss your warm breath...
The stench of cheese and onion,
And the slight hint of beer.

When I die, I will miss your wide eyes...
Always confused, bloodshot,
Not often sober.

When I die, I will miss your smile...
A lazy grin, effortless,
With a coffee stain above the upper lip.

When I die, I will miss your gentle nature.
I'm sure you really didn't mean to punch your best friend in the face,
Or tell the teacher to do himself.

When I die, you won't remember me.
When I die, I'll regret remembering you.


"Imagine you are somebody else in this room, write as if you are them"


WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
OH MY FRIGGEN GOODNESS A SPINNY CHAIR IN A COMPUTER ROOM. LETS JOUST EVERYBODY!



"Describe in detail a city that you've spent less than three days in"


The coach passed through the dull streets of Exeter, past the white ensign building and the national flags. There's a cathedral around somewhere - you have to pay to get in. I probably won't go in. There's also a museum... Somewhere. And a burger stand with a polite lady right outside Exeter St Davies. The Christmas market is probably still open, selling cheesy trinkets no one wants. The pubs look like any other kind of pub, but slightly more dead. The older women seem to make more of an effort to look classy. A practice that has not been fully adopted in Suffolk. The station staff are nice. Oh look, I've passed Exeter.


"An outdoor location of some kind that you experienced only after dark"



He said, 'lets go for a walk.'
Now, if I have inherited anything from my father, it was the ability to judge the time it takes to walk long distances.
Or should I say, the lack of it.
I was not scared, honestly. Walking along a beach at the dead of night through sand that often slipped down the thin pathways was completely, and utterly safe. Never mind having to share one torch and no mobile phone on hand in case things go wrong.
I could walk in front - with the torch, be the first one attacked by a passing psychopath, or be behind, the first one attacked front he behind from a passing psychopath.
I weighed the options.
I walked in front.
I tried not to think of the rustling bushes so close to the path, they often brushed my leg with their thin leaves and pointy branches. Instead, I was generous with my torch, and sometimes directed to the shore.
That's when it highlighted a peculiar 'hut', worn and rotting, it had originally been made simply. No door - just a gap. The gap was a void of darkness.
"Lets go there!" My dad said with joyful curiousty.

First we had to get down from the path. We could brave the very steep and sandy hills, or jump off the ledge.
Of course, we jumped off the ledge.

There was nothing particular interesting about the hut, but I really didn't feel comfortable when my father shoved a torch inside. What if somebody was living there? I realise now, a year and a half or so later, that was a ridiculous thought, the tide would come in every so often and flood it completely. My dad wanted to step inside, but I begged him not to. Eventually, after a little further along the beach, we decided to head back.

I never saw the hut again.

Monday 12 November 2012

Update

Things have changed.

I'm sure many people undergo various periods of reflection upon their lives which is either curious, lighthearted, sentimental analyses, or deep, philosophical thought. Actually, there's probably another, that more sinister "Why did I do that" routine that I am sure must occur at least once a year for a good majority of people. Nevertheless, it's a process that requires a little time to ourselves, and there is usually a conclusion.

What I have been reflecting on recently has varied extortionately throughout this last week, even this last month. I've been thinking about big questions, small questions, funny things, sad things. There is no chronological sense or pattern to these thoughts, they are spontaneous, perhaps following willfully to my rather chaotic self. Luckily, these 'events' have not been painful frenzies, nor lead to agonizing paranoia or bitterness. Instead, they have lead to a helpful understanding on my personal opinions regarding personal actions and decisions, and personal philosophy and thought. Perhaps this luck has been influenced by a new desire to achieve at least some kind of calm amongst the storm, to avid the recklessness but enjoy the dis-structure desired by a free spirit.

I feel, in order to place a "milestone" upon this new understanding, I should at least share some of it to the public, though I doubt anyone reads this anyway, but even by doing so, it places a unique concrete on the new floor of the castle of creativity. I'm confirming my own understanding by transcribing it into writing that is available for others to potentially read.

Desires
I'll only mention this lightly as it is quite a private affair. I desire happiness, fulfillment and knowledge. I'd like to progress, rather than stick to a mundane routine. A concrete routine is something that I do not desire and cannot accept.

Philosophy and Religion
I am still religious, I am still spiritual. I'm confident in my beliefs, but wish to explore it, maybe write about it sometime. I find forgiveness essential to the core of my beliefs, which include self-forgiveness, and motivation to do good and progress. I stress I do not fear in the consequences of my actions, nor do I submit to exterior forces that are produced by a collective of people. But I am willing, interested, accepting (but not mindlessly passive) and open in listening to a force of good that gives me strength, warmth and hope. By this attitude, I no longer want to be confined to past events that have haunted me by my own actions or by others, although it is false and too ideological to presume that memories can simply be "deleted" or forgotten. No, I won't be able to forget, but I can move on, and I think, emotion attached to memories can begin to dull it's effect.
I am interested in sociological and psychology philosophy and perspectives on religion, personality, society and the individual. I am currently working out and writing what I think about "Collective Individualism."
 I'm also interested in history, and it's relevance in modern times.

Sociology and Politics
There doesn't seem much point to go too deep into politics, or put much or even little emotion to it. But I cannot help but think of the "what ifs" and alternative ways that politics can be more efficient and satisfying. I care little for the "game" of politics, I won't join the pawns jumping one square at a time and getting no where.Nor will I bother to conspire against the authority of the pieces in question. If I be honest, I find politics and chess quite boring, because they always use the same rules and in the end, the same thing happens. In chess, the game is always won in the certain way, and then the next game is won also, in a certain way. Politics does this too, it is always the same, the only difference is the colour that the player is playing behind. It is pointless to interfere. Instead, what is exciting, or at least, amusing to think of is new ways of making change, thinking "outside the chess board."
Sociology is still relevant and interesting, and I'd like to write about it sometime, and do my own research.


Some things never change. But it's okay to allow the things that you thought never would, or never could change happen, if at the end of the day, it would positively allow you to progress and explore concepts and ideas you never knew.

Monday 8 October 2012

Suzie: The Girl who changed our lives

So I'm at university now.
Admittingly, I've been at university for a while.
Things have been fine, insightful, interesting.

I've currently been reading 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra' by Friedrich Nietzsche which has been a very interesting voyage so far, but this entry will be specifically about a rather short book called Suzie: The Girl who changed our lives.

Having personally corresponded with the author, I felt I should read her book, which turned out to be a shocking reveal of a life that I was completely unaware of. Ann Chadwick has had a very full and interesting life, and is keen to explain in detail her childhood, growing up in a family with an adopted sister - A little girl called Suzie, who boarded a 'kindertransport' train from Prague to eventually arrive at London, and then, to East Anglia, just in time to escape from the horror of the Hitler's onward march. It takes you through the emotional trauma that Suzie suffered, the heartbreaking letters received by the Chadwick family by Suzie's parents, and despite the burdens and darkness, the rise and happiness of life that would blossom within the family.

The book isn't lacking on presenting life for the Chadwicks and Suzie's parents, the Spitzers which is wonderful and always interesting. The only thing is that this book is not written by a professional author and could really do with a good editor to really make this book a gem. There is a lot of repetition, paragraphs that dive too fast in another subject, information that isn't so significant in the story. I disliked the fact the book continued to mention the telling of Suzie's story, but, as a book itself, Suzie's story wasn't emphasized enough. The storytelling was not perfected.

Yet, one would appreciate the honesty and the immense effort Ann Chadwick has put into this book, and it is a story that one should read and appreciate. This gives a priceless account on another side to the war that has been almost invisible to the general public. I can only wish more books like this were around, but unfortunately, like history, the truth begins to fade. Suzie: The Girl who changed our lives is a book that will confidently set in stone a part of history, it's truth unchanged forever.

Friday 21 September 2012

New Adventure


I'll be in Bath tomorrow, and that's a pretty strange thought. Packing is... Well, I am typing this while I should be filling up suitcases so I guess it's going pretty slow right now. Ah well. I have a new happy song, perhaps called Asa Branca above ^ (I have no idea), and currently wearing m'bright yellow hoody, hopefully they'll bring good vibes for today. Time to just see where the wind blows.

Tuesday 18 September 2012

Lyrical Tube

Six strings seems to be my medicine for today. 
It has been relaxing to play my 3/4 guitar a lot recently, and I was hoping to compose some kind of song for a friend to sing, but it'll most likely have to wait until December now.

Some ideas so far:


Smoking cigerrettes nine til five
Staggering home trying just to survive
Hopeless wonder thunder comin' boilin' to brew
Bake an all night wonder blunder tryin' to get through

------------------

A small light touch of Winter
On little red nose.
Child wrapped softly from head to toe
As she waddles back home.
A giggle, a coo is uttered in warm breath
As animated face is delighted,
Clasping hands reach out
For white flakes of snow.


I wonder if it is obvious which one I wrote first...

Monday 10 September 2012

Flicker

The film flickers, but always on a constant animation, rolling forward the course of life. Colours sometimes fade, but, they've always been there, sometimes dulled by imperfect images, imperfect mistakes. I think to myself, along with the philosophy of Miyavi that I will not die for you, but live for you. My recklessness will never be self contained in a prison, but harnessed in specific motion so that I can safely say with a smile, that my choices were made based with my own mind, my free-will. Perhaps, if I ever become old enough to watch the film, I will understand more about things I was too immature to decipher. But, just like when a film is projected on a big screen, at that point, each action is permanent. The director can only watch beneath two hands and pray he did a good enough job for his audience. But it is my hope and belief that living life this way, no matter the result or consequences will give satisfaction. No matter how long the reel is, no matter who the audience is. I wonder if you'll ever watch your own film, but I have a feeling, just like me, you'll never grow old enough in mind to reflect upon unimportant manners. Instead, you'll keep on producing a picture. No matter the quality of the last chapters, or the setting, you'll still live life instead of watch it go by. This is the nature and concept of living without regret.


Wednesday 5 September 2012

Chapter...?

Sometimes a large clump of thoughts acts like a crowd.
Constant buzz around your head.
I've had this crowd following me for a while now, but, it's not been in vain.
I've learnt a few things, and realised a few more. A couple of surprises, a couple of understandings within things that have been around for a long time. It is almost comforting, to be able to admit to some of these thoughts are fears I've had but not confronted. They are still like a gas, not opaque or anything I can grasp and throw away. But, there is always a difference when you know it's hovering around.

I've decided I want to focus on a few subjects in my spare time. Of course, BSL is still on the list, and writing both poetry and stories, but I hope to learn and study a couple of other things. Philosophy, biology, baking, lyric writing, brush painting, maybe even how to use Blender, but that might be pushing it a bit.

Maybe, if I have time, I'll someday publish "A poem for all my beautiful friends (And all those to come)" but it sounds a bit too cheesy. I don't know. 

We'll see.

Tuesday 4 September 2012

Doughnut Monster

I sigh.
Sitting to my right is a see through plastic container, displaying honestly the last doughnut from the pack of four. Half eaten, the icing long gone, the doughnut sits dismal and quite unappeitizing. But, just with a glance, the emotion of this ice-less ring is largely apparent. It wants to join the fate of it's brothers and sisters, and no matter how hard this journey might be, I have to take the challenge, in order to honour itself and it's forefathers. I lift the lid, and snatch it from it's prison. A moment later, and the duty is done.

Saturday 1 September 2012

IAS, The Housekeeper and the Professor

Today was a good day.
The Ipswich Anime Society had another meet up which all in all, went well. Magic The Gathering seemed to be a more centralised focus than usual, and we had a couple of new members which is always a pleasant occasion. We also had a couple of unofficial and rather random "playing card throwers" that were less than pleasant, but, I guess that's another story.

A while back I finished reading 'The Housekeeper and the Professor' by Yoko Ogara, which, well, it was alright. The maths was actually interesting, and there was a curious development of character with the professor and his past. But there was never a satisfactory delivery of his past, and the ending was very quick.  The Housekeeper's young son suddenly becomes 22, and well, his career choice becomes much too perfect for me to accept. The last chapters really ruined the magic and realism of the book.
But, I might try another book from this author. O's in the library are easy to access discreetly, and generally near to good seating.

Other books I am due to read are '50 philosophy ideas you really need to know' by Ben Dupré, 'LIT' by Mary karr, 'EARTH' by 'OxTails' (Oxfam fundraiser), and 'Larry's Party' by Carol Shields.

Wednesday 29 August 2012

Learning to Learn

From my experience, what seems to be the main difference of gaining skills both creative and practical, is motivation and effort. The saying I may even at times, loathe, is 'practice, practice, practice'. Even if there is no 'raw' talent from my genes, or lack of any foundations formed in my younger years, I can at least be satisified that there is still a lot of achievements available to me. I just need to work at it.

And it's hard, concentrating on making some kind of success for my efforts. But, if it comes to the crunch, it is worth the effort.

Right?

Sunday 26 August 2012

Boat in the Swamp



Sometimes it's hard to keep rowing when the lantern begins to wane it's warmth through the glass. Sometimes...

Alas.

At least I've done a little bit of writing today.

Saturday 25 August 2012

Somloi Galuska

So yesterday I gained exp on my cooking level, attempting to make some delicious Somloi. It was good fun, but I did rely on a very patient friend a little too much, especially with the whisking. I seriously need to build muscles ._.;

But what exactly is Somloi you ask?

Well! I can gladly inform you I have more of an idea now before I started trying to make it. (Otherwise, I'd be a little worried to be honest.) It is a Hungarian cake that takes hours to make. (Honestly, no kidding!) It is made of three layers if sponge, each requires consistant, crazy amounts of whisking the whites of eggs to a such a thick mixture that it no longer moves in the bowl. It is then combined with the yolk, which itself may be mixed with cocoa powder or grounded walnuts (or a cheaper alternative). Then, after baking each layer individually, you make the filling that goes on top of each layer. This uses even more egg whites so, after your arm is about to full off, you have a much bigger challenge in getting this mixture to go into a desire mix.

There is also the wine with sugar gently heated that is generiously soaked on each layer, double cream also heated (don't overb over boil it and spill it over a gas oven, seriously.) to combine with the filling. And then, don't forget the chocolate sauce!

I have no photo, but it was seriously nice. I am thankful for my friend in making it with me, and can't wait to try again someday! First I might try and pull some weights or something to build my arm muscles... Or invest in an electric whisk...

Wednesday 22 August 2012

Strength


So today I read the e-mail in time, which is good!
But I did spend the morning trying to write and making little progress once more.
I think I'll start writing on paper for a while.
Other things, other things... I need to read more books, so perhaps I'll try again at writing reviews?
Later, I may even learn about cooking and more BSL, who knows?

Tuesday 21 August 2012

Strange Tide

This will be a rather mellow, and drifting entry.
So I feel I should update my blog more often, to motivate myself to progress more in certain things.
So.
I need to send an e-mail tomorrow.

And.
Writing has been difficult to create,
But instead I have been drawing recently. Silly, immature pencil drawings, but perhaps I'll progress. I have been listening to a variety of music as usual, from One Ok Rock, to Velvet Eden to Phaeleh, to Thomas Bergersen, various folk songs to acoustic guitars.

Mainly acoustic versions of BigBang.


Other than that, I guess I've not really learnt much today. But I did have interesting discussions with a friend about politics, in particularlly it's degrading nature due to cunning use of political ultimatums. Politics is an armchair sport I'd rather not dine with, but I can't help but float back and think about it. I tried to describe the benefits of socialism with a friend recently, but part of me could not help but realise how hopeless having any kind of views or interest in society. He was sympathetic though, and told me more about Mexico.


I could go on further about sociology but all I can think about is how I am simply failing to put emotion to paper. Emotion itself is a very strange topic to me. Sometimes, this emotion thing... It becomes removed. Heartless describes a cruel emotion so would not suit the emptiness but a void is too complete. It's like viewing the world as a painting, a spectator, being unattached to certain things.

I think a slight dullness is still there.


I remember confessing to a friend about it before I returned home from university. But, I don't think I am so afraid about it now. I've always taken life as it comes and not understood some certain 'social rituals' are so significant, or, that certain changes should be given more than a moment of thought. Perhaps this emptiness has always been floating around, but it does nothing for my confidence in writing.



Sometimes I dare to face 'reality'. Lets be honest here, my vocabulary is limited, I am unmotivated, lazy. I will never be a wonder of words, and my ideas are too complicated. But as l still stand, I still have time to get better. I will get better and try harder. Who knows, maybe in ten years time I'll make semi decent art, music and literature. I will be updating my progress here.

Monday 20 August 2012

Drifting through a different wind

Another morning, another day of tiredness.
In my official Half Asleep Mode I switch on the laptop, get a bite to eat and surf the web for a moment. I find a petition needing signatures, http://www.allout.org/en/actions/russianriot, I open an empty word document.

I listen to the atmospheric music my cousin recommended me yesterday.


Then the gentle music my friend Tom sent me.


Thinking for a little while, I've realised that there has been some kind of change. I can't quite put my finger on it, but within me, there has been a couple of switches flicked, a new patch of thought in the mind, something a little new stirring in the cauldron.


It might be called motivation, but I wouldn't want to go that far.
Perhaps it might just be fear of growing old and learning nothing.
I start today.

Tuesday 24 July 2012

British Sign Language

I've always liked culture and (attempting) to learn languages, but I think I have to say BSL (British Sign Language) is the most exciting and satisfying language I've ever tried to learn. The grammar is a little complicated but so many of the signs are self explanatory and have some good humour to them. For example, the sign for 'Lidl' is also the sign for cheap, while the sign for 'Waitrose' is also the sign for expensive. There are so many instances when I find BSL seriously cool.

Personally, learning from videos is a little bit difficult, but Signaloid has some very cute videos for BSL featuring a vocaloid inspired character, and BritishSignLanguage is a good resource dictionary for various signs, the animations aren't that great, but there are detailed descriptions of each sign which can be helpful.

Wednesday 18 July 2012

The River Beach

I don't usually wake up early, but when I do... Well, not much actually happens, my mind still feels numb from lack of sleep. Yet, determined, I try to continue a poem I started last night called 'The Beach River'. This poem is an attempt to describe a political metaphor, but it is hard to get the point across without flooding it with an over-exaggerated message. I'm hoping I'll be able to post it on TulinKei later.

Recently, I've been listening to Mutyumu which has probably inspired the flavour of my writing.

Monday 16 July 2012

The Housekeeper and the Professor

First, an apology.
Yet again I have taken another name from fellow Blogger users, and made, yet again, a blog which I'll claim, (as always) to regularly update. But alas, I needed somewhere online to share things that are not political, musical, or even as colourful. This blog is dedicated for everything under 'general'. Book reviews, projects, art, music, language... It'll contain a bit of everything that I am too lazy to dedicate an entire blog for, (and thus save some blog names for everyone else) and just feel it needs to go online. It'll be like a rough notebook, bits here and there - nothing too polished, (they'll probably be a 'blog' for that.) so enjoy, hope it's somewhat interesting, but if you're looking for something in particular you might not find it here.

And I do wish that awful music you get while you're waiting for someone to put you through on phones would stop soon. Lady on the phone has been waiting for at least ten minutes now. Distorted classical is most painful on the ears.

The Housekeeper and the Professor

Ah, yes. I came into the library as part of my new routine, to actually err... Read. Here I am with a brand new fiction book by an author named Yoko Ogawa, author of 'The Diving Pool' if you've ever heard of it, I personally haven't. This novel is about a maths professor who, after a traumatic head injury, has lived with only eighty minutes of short term memory. A young housekeeper with a ten year old son has been entrusted to take care of him. Reciting the blurb; "Each morning, as the Professor and the Housekeeper are reintroduced to one another, a strange, beautiful relationship blossoms between them. The Professor may not remember what he had for breakfast, but his mind is still alive with elegant equations from the past. He devises clever maths riddles -- based on her shoe size or her birthday - and the numbers, in their articulate order, reveal a sheltering and poetic world to both the Housekeeper and her little boy." Yadda, yadda. I'm not too keen on maths, but it sounded rather interesting. The blurb goes on, which makes me worry there's not more too the book, but alas, I open and start reading.

Straight away Yoko Ogawa is keen to draw in the maths, which I'll be honest -- almost frightens me. The Housekeeper's 'little boy' is called Root by the Professor - and the Housekeeper who narrates the story is keen to point out that the most important thing she and her son learnt is the meaning of the square root. Oh my word, what have I gotten myself into... I wonder if I get through this, I'll understand everything there is to know about the Pythagorean theorem.

Reading on, the story goes along as expected/dictated by the blurb. A woman who I don't think has actually said her name (or her boy's real name once) gets a job as a housekeeper for the professor, she's immediately asked her shoe size, cue the maths. It is clear, also, that this book was written in Japan, and there are slight, interesting hints throughout the book.

I reach page 18 and 19, and see a double page spread about the numbers 220 and 284. Did you know the sum of the factors 220 is 284 and the sum of the factors of 284 is 220. They're called 'amicable numbers' and apparently they're extremely rare. I like the last sentence on the page, 'I traced the trail of numbers from the ones the Professor had written to the ones I'd added, and they all seemed to flow together, as if we'd been connecting up the constellations in the night sky.'

Looks like my time in the library is up now. I'm not sure if I would continue reading the book, but for enthusiastic mathematicians, this book may really appeal to you.