tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2883979841111173610.post1200305522476462838..comments2024-02-05T00:16:13.698-05:00Comments on Banjo52: Five Pics, a Poem, and Ways of BeingBanjo52http://www.blogger.com/profile/04342397136888422440noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2883979841111173610.post-31005559252732893782010-12-31T17:49:54.354-05:002010-12-31T17:49:54.354-05:00My Gmail is messing with Banjo52. Here's a New...My Gmail is messing with Banjo52. Here's a New Comment from new visitor, call her/him BG (Benevolent Gustav): <br /><br />"Ways of being in the world" strikes me as a difficult concept. Thinking about the manner in which we move through the world causes me to view an ongoing thread of self through time, something less tenable than continuity of memory. AH brought up the following: "We constantly deal with our own material, that's what we've got. But with each day, it changes." <br /><br />It's a good image, but it generates questions - Why do we like what we like? Why do we respond in consistent ways? What causes some events and thoughts to strike a chord, while others don't resonate with us? How do we choose our role models, our heroes? Are they purer manifestations of our own cores? There is something beneath all the variables of our behaviors, the "rucksack of you," something that allows one individual to be friend while another is not, that strikes me as the core, the thread that determines (and, over time, is subtly modified by) the way we move through the world.Banjo52https://www.blogger.com/profile/04342397136888422440noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2883979841111173610.post-14869416186095438072010-12-30T15:16:27.283-05:002010-12-30T15:16:27.283-05:00"Ways of being in the world" strikes me ..."Ways of being in the world" strikes me as a difficult concept. Thinking about the manner in which we move through the world causes me to view an ongoing thread of self through time, something less tenable than continuity of memory. AH brought up the following: "We constantly deal with our own material, that's what we've got. But with each day, it changes." It's a good image, but it generates questions - Why do we like what we like? Why do we respond in consistent ways? What causes some events and thoughts to strike a chord, while others don't resonate with us? How do we choose our role models, our heroes? Are they purer manifestations of our own cores? There is something beneath all the variables of our behaviors, the "rucksack of you," something that allows one individual to be friend while another is not, that strikes me as the core, the thread that determines (and, over time, is subtly modified by) the way we move through the world.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2883979841111173610.post-21867988542529954702010-12-28T12:11:14.954-05:002010-12-28T12:11:14.954-05:00Isn't AH's comment descriptively haunting?...Isn't AH's comment descriptively haunting? <br /><br />Maybe the rusksack is full of the day's intentions. Good intentions or task intentions. At the end of the day, you can check off what is done, what isn't. And you re-priortize and refill with new new tasks/intentions. And with the new morning, you wake up with a different gait. <br /><br />Hopkins poem is awesome.Brenda's Arizonahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17880225110712592548noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2883979841111173610.post-76238098216110314402010-12-27T17:10:26.184-05:002010-12-27T17:10:26.184-05:00Thank you, thank you for responding. I thought I&#...Thank you, thank you for responding. I thought I'd forfeited the whole group because they see this as a moronic obsession about some words. <br /><br />So the rucksack contains a day's thoughts, emotions, experiences, slings, arrows, bandages--and maybe those of other people? <br /><br />And the list of items is constant day to day, but they shift around in the bag, creating different weight and pressure on different parts of the back and legs and psyche? If so, I get it and like it, which I hope you'll see in the next post. <br /><br />I'm not sure what's meant by emptying it each night. Shoving it aside for recreation or sleep? Or conversely, examining each item (and obsessing over some?) before putting them back in the bag for another day of hauling? <br /><br />We may never agree on the importance of sex, race, nationality--other people and other external factors (which have been internalized to some extent at the very least). <br /><br />Should I ignore other people's rucksacks? Picasso's? Sarah Palin's? Am I not impoverished and isn't my credibility undercut if I absolutely don't "get" them and permit myself to be satisfied with facile judgments? <br /><br />But I think I'm good with most of the rucksack analogy. If I get it, I think it's word, money, I'm down. Get me some bling.Banjo52https://www.blogger.com/profile/04342397136888422440noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2883979841111173610.post-796597637507702082010-12-27T15:43:31.769-05:002010-12-27T15:43:31.769-05:00AH says it well: one deals with one's own stuf...AH says it well: one deals with one's own stuff; as that stuff changes, one changes.<br /><br />Maybe there are artists who are motivated by showing off, but I think "obsession and storage problem" sums it up well for me.<br /><br />Gorgeous poem. (Guess I'm just mushy today.)Jean Spitzerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13520415864511680025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2883979841111173610.post-46287707957039012722010-12-27T02:06:56.901-05:002010-12-27T02:06:56.901-05:00Here's our bone of contention, John. I don'...Here's our bone of contention, John. I don't think it's sex or race or nationality that makes us walk differently in this world. <br /><br />We constantly deal with our own material, that's what we've got. But with each day, it changes. Say, there's this rucksack of you, and if you're like me, you empty the whole thing out every single day, and every single day the items change. Not in substance, but in weight. Then you bundle it up again, and walk differently, because the pressure has changed. Not lessened, just moved.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com