Author Archives: Daisy Berisha

Posts by Daisy Berisha

Comments by Daisy Berisha

"On Saturday, December 10th, I visited the Museum of Modern Art with my boyfriend. It was the second time I’d ever been there, and it was just as beautiful as the last time. Though I am not such a huge fan of abstract art, I found many of the things in the museum to be intriguing. One I found especially peculiar was the wall of dairy product caps lined up in columns. I don’t think I understood it correctly, but it reminded me of the symptoms of people with obsessive-compulsive disorder. There were giant helicopters suspended from the ceiling, which is always awesome. I also some works by Andy Warhol, specifically the portrait of Marilyn Monroe which I love so much. My favorite thing in the museum, however, was the large white room filled with a display of Claude Monet’s Water Lilies. The way they had lined up the paintings next to each other so that it flowed across the room was really magical, I felt as though the pond surrounded me. I felt very at ease in that room, I always love to visit it."
--( posted on Dec 14, 2011, commenting on the post Museum Visits using Cultural Passport )
 
"Art from the Ashes was such an amazing seminar. I would not have experienced half the things I did if it weren't for this class. It had been years since I'd taken a class trip, my last time being sometime in middle school. Getting to experience it again, and in college, was just awesome. All the places that we visited together were beautiful. Every time I visit the ICP, the Met, an opera, Central Park, or the Transit Museum in the future, I will know that all of those places will hold a connection for us and I'll think about how we once stepped through this room and sat in these seats together way back when. I know I will miss this class, and I want to thank Professor Perl and Sam for making it worth missing."
--( posted on Dec 14, 2011, commenting on the post Final Reflections on the Seminar )
 
"Daisy Berisha - Genocide in Bosnia "
--( posted on Dec 14, 2011, commenting on the post From Ashes to Art Research Project )
 
"On Saturday, December 10th, my family and I visited the NY Botanical Gardens. My sister recently got a job volunteering there so we all decided to visit one day as a family. It is a completely different experience being there in the winter than in the spring. Personally, I find it so much more beautiful when the trees are blossoming, but the bare branches had a sort of eerie beauty to them as well. It was pretty cold so it was hard to trek through the entire place, but we got to see the holiday train show, with the miniature trains traveling throughout a model NYC in the past. It was really beautiful; the details and lights on the bridges were magical."
--( posted on Dec 13, 2011, commenting on the post Museum Visits using Cultural Passport )
 
"After creating a project for snapshot day, Taylor and I decided to visit the cute little American Folk Art Museum. Expecting to find a menagerie of art forms, we were actually enclosed in wide loft with quilts of various designs hanging everywhere. It was definitely not what we expected. The quilts were actually very beautiful and intricate, my favorite being the Bull’s Eye Quilt from Berks County, Pennsylvania, made around the time 1900-1920. I loved the reds and whites used in the circles and the deep blue surrounding it. The flowers in the corners were a nice detail too. The quilt on main display, called the National Tribute Quilt, was very touching. It is constructed of 3,466 blocks of quilt from all over the world that form a montage of the twin towers of the World Trade Center and the New York City skyline. Each block bore the name of one person who had lost his or her life in the tragedy."
--( posted on Dec 4, 2011, commenting on the post Museum Visits using Cultural Passport )
 
"Philip Glass’ “¬Satyagraha” was honestly much better than I expected it to be. Operas truly are a compilation of many different art forms. The singers, orchestra, actors, costumes, and set all flowed so nicely together; it was like nothing I have ever seen before, except for maybe The Nutcracker (but that incorporated dancing more than singing). I especially loved the male singers with their deep voices that reverberated throughout the auditorium. My favorite scene and song of the whole opera was the one with the Westernized men getting their shoes shined. Their singing while they were looking at the newspapers sounding like laughter, probably at Gandhi and his methods of protest. The man playing Gandhi was absolutely perfect for the role. He and the other singers and actors did such a great job with the giant puppets and other props used on stage. Part two was my favorite of all three parts of the opera. I will definitely be going to see another one soon!"
--( posted on Dec 3, 2011, commenting on the post Satyagraha at the MET )
 
""The armies are backlit, appearing in silhouette, and as the scene progresses, lights come up on the armies to reveal them as Indians and Europeans respectively, also revealing their weapons as everyday objects." By making it so the armies' weapons were everyday objects, it seems as though either the war was getting desperate or the war became a part of their everyday lives, just like their weapons of choice. It's easier now to envision the opera since there are two distinct sides of the battle."
--( posted on Nov 26, 2011, commenting on the post Preparing for the Opera )
 
"On Friday, November 18, I visited the NY Transit Museum with my cousin, who’s visiting from Albania, and a bunch of classmates. There’s a lot to say about this amazing place, I enjoyed being there so much. Seeing all the photos from the late 1880s of people tunneling under the city and constructing todays subway system was very intriguing. I saw pictures of men covered in dirt, looking weary as ever after a long day of working. I saw what looked like giant caves in the ground from where they planned to lay down tracks. The images were really ghostly! The best part of the museum, however, was the bottom floor. The museum had actually once been a train station, so they had a bunch of different cars from different eras lined up on the tracks. I felt like I was actually walking into the past. I sat in so many different seats, imagining all of the different people who sat down right there to make their daily commute to wherever and wondering if they were still alive today. I wondered if they would feel nostalgic if they sat in that spot again, and if I would feel nostalgic if I saw the train cars of today in that line-up. My favorite train car was the one from the 1920s because, as I am obsessed with HBO’s ‘Boardwalk Empire,’ I felt like I was in one of the episodes of the show. It was really too cool and I recommend it to anyone who hasn’t gone yet."
--( posted on Nov 21, 2011, commenting on the post Museum Visits using Cultural Passport )
 
"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JA3SMcftrYY "
--( posted on Nov 15, 2011, commenting on the post Video )
 
"Using iMovie to make my digital story was honestly a lot of fun. I’ve never edited or made a video of this sort before. Bringing in all the pictures my sister and I took in Albania made me so nostalgic. It felt like I was making a special kind of scrapbook. Playing the video of my cousins and I jumping off the cliff into the water with music in the background was a completely different experience than watching the video without the music; it gave me chills. Overall, I’m really proud of my work. Seeing my classmates’ work was exciting as well. Everyone’s project was very personal so it gave me some more insight into the lives of my peers and their style of presentation. I also enjoyed listening to the poems very much."
--( posted on Nov 15, 2011, commenting on the post Reflections )
 
"Where I'm From I’m from the grass between my toes, And the bumblebees that stung me, The scent of grass beneath my nose Underneath the plum tree. I’m from the frog under my fingers, Squirming, fidgeting until I set it free. The slimy feeling that lingers, The way we knew it’d always be. I’m from the tree house we built on the ground And all the cigarettes we snuck in “Do I look good with this?” we passed it ‘round, The four of us laughing there within. I’m from sleeping on the floor next to you Military style, we’d call it And you’d rub my back and tell us stories too, Packed together so tightly knit. I’m from the haystacks my grandfather put up “Bismi Allah…” whenever we’d do something crazy Like sneak into the Mosque, barefoot, close-up Copying the men, on the floor being lazy. I’m from the dark, dark nights Listening to a cat sneak into the kitchen Knocking down dishes from the heights Waiting for Nana to catch that kitten. I’m from the long walks in the sun To get to those cliffs and that rock To jump off, starting with a brisk run Into the sea with our fingers locked I’m from plum picking and ladder climbing And trying to dodge the beehives Grape grabbing and good timing And having the time of our lives. I’m from the beaches and the bars, Starbathing on a sunbathing chair, Pointing out every fleeting glimpse of shooting stars The smell of salt and fire in the air. I’m from playing cards on the veranda and in the yard Sitting near or under the fig tree “Xhol!” you’d say and throw down hard But without the red joker you can’t beat me. I am from the nights you’d sing E bukur është vallja And all the dancing that would bring Kur kërcen sorkadhja."
--( posted on Nov 15, 2011, commenting on the post Poem )
 
"*exhilarated, not exasperated"
--( posted on Nov 6, 2011, commenting on the post Daniel Hope’s “East Meets West” — Responses Due by Sunday, Oct. 30 )
 
"Fall For Dance was absolutely breathtaking. It wasn’t the first dance performance I’d ever been to (I saw The Nutcracker one year at Lincoln Center), but ballet is definitely much more different than the performances we saw that night. The opening performance, Kafig’s “Agwa”, was the most creative and aesthetically pleasing of all the performances, and I’m not just saying that because of the shirtless men flaunting six-packs. The music was awesome and made me feel like dancing, it had a bit of a west-Indian, tropical feel to it. The break dancing and hip hop dancing was great to watch. The men went into some acrobatics as well, which is always cool. The second performance by the Tao Dance Theater seemed appealing at first, until it just never stopped. I found myself getting almost hypnotized by the constant swirling of the stick. However, the next pair of dancers was very cute and Karem, Rebekah, and I were copying their dance moves all the way home. Next came the Royal Ballet of Flanders’ performance of “The Return of Ulysses, which was my favorite out of all of the performances. The movements were so fluid and the acting so real. I loved the red in the woman’s hair and how it moved wildly with her movements. The ending was so sad because she didn’t believe the man who had come back was really Ulysses, thinking him only a ghost. It broke my heart. Me voy, me voy, me voy. The final performance by the Lizt Alfonso Dance Cuba women, singer, and band was a great way to end the show. The Spanish music combined with the swaying skirts was perfect. I can hardly wait to see another Fall For Dance!"
--( posted on Nov 6, 2011, commenting on the post Fall for Dance — Responses due by Nov. 6 )
 
"As soon as I heard that we would be seeing a violin and sitar performance, I became extremely excited. I have a soft spot in my heart for classical music, and I love it every time my best friend plays sitar or when I listen to the Beatles "Within You Without You." Daniel Hope’s “East Meets West” turned out to be more than what I expected it to be. It was so amazing! He played the violin in ways I didn't even know it could be played, like tugging at the strings with his fingers and such. Even by doing so he made it all sound so beautiful. Simon Crawford-Phillips on piano was amazing as well. I ended every performance exasperated; I couldn't help but say "wow" whenever they would finish a piece. Gaurav Mazumdar was excellent on the sitar, as I expected he would be after the lengthy introduction by Hope. However, for some odd reason, I liked Vishal Nagar's playing the tabla the most of all. The way the drums would make a "boing" sound was so cool."
--( posted on Nov 1, 2011, commenting on the post Daniel Hope’s “East Meets West” — Responses Due by Sunday, Oct. 30 )
 
"Rebekah! You were not alone, I was trailing at your heels the entire time, admiring 'Graziella' right along with you."
--( posted on Oct 12, 2011, commenting on the post Met Museum Visit )
 
"I've been there, yes! It's like living in the eyes of Monet himself. You should definitely see that Jordan."
--( posted on Oct 12, 2011, commenting on the post Met Museum Visit )
 
"Hey Taylor, You’re response is long but I take that as a challenge, and to that I say, challenge accepted. I like the notion you made about Mo seemingly belonging nowhere. He is a very ambiguous character, and I think he tries to remain so on purpose. He doesn’t want to upset Muslims so he tries to be like them, and at the same time he doesn’t want to betray America so he tries to retain some of his American-ness as well. And he was accepted by the religion up until he blatantly blasphemed during the hearing. The he was getting death threats. I find Asma’s death tragic as well, and I hate the character that is Alyssa Spier too. It surprises me that Asma’s death didn’t surprise you though, because I did not see it coming at all. In fact, I thought Waldman was being completely random by killing her off. You’re right a about person doing rash things in the heat of their emotions, though; that’s definitely the reason Asma was killed. In my response, I wrote that I thought Claire was the one being stubborn in her conversation with Mo. I know Americans were scared and worried, and that is only human. But Mo was trying to force American to get over its prejudice by holding out on information about the Garden, and unfortunately Americans were not convinced. You are so right when you say that Mo shouldn’t be separated from his artwork. The Garden was as much of an ambiguous, ironic character as Mo, and it said a lot about him. According to Waldman’s pessimistic view, Americans are too stubborn to overlook his Muslim background so I completely agree with you in that it is inevitable to separate Mo from his art. I also felt that Mo sought solace in Afghanistan because of feeling like an outcast in America."
--( posted on Oct 12, 2011, commenting on the post Responding to Amy Waldman’s The Submission Part 3 pp. 207-299 )
 
"While reading the third and final part of ‘The Submission’ by Waldman, I was really captivated by what happened at the hearing by what both Mo and Asma had to say. I felt as though Asma took the words out of my mouth when she told the audience that they should be ashamed of themselves. This was the moment in which I really found myself in deep sympathy for her and her loss. Mo’s speech was good as well, though he did “blasphemize,” as Waldman puts it. Other than that, he addressed the “martyr’s paradise” notion tastefully, talking about Islamic influence in the Garden as well as many other influences. Though this didn’t run over too well with the audience (mostly because Waldman makes them out to be stubborn idiots), I still think Mo was in the right when he decided not to come out and say that the Garden was not truly Islamic. In the end, however, both Mo and Asma sadly fall victim to American and Muslim politics: Asma being stabbed on her way to the airport and Mo basically moving to another country. During the beginning of the conversation between Claire and Mo, I told myself to pick a side, and I instantly sided with Mo. Claire was being too inconsistent, and I lost my faith in her when she began harboring doubts about the Garden. Mo, on the other hand, held to his beliefs throughout the entire book, and he was admiringly still holding onto them throughout his conversation with Claire. He never told her outright the Garden wasn’t Islamic, and some may say he was being too stubborn. I, however, think that it was Claire who was the stubborn one because she persisted in asking him about without any shame, which annoyed me a bit. Mo was definitely acting as a piece of the art itself, almost like a contraction; He is Muslim but also American, and his Garden is Islamic but also Christian and Jewish and Buddhist and so on. Mo’s trip to Afghanistan and his spontaneous piety was definitely a reaction to the discriminatory environment he was exposed to. It was an attempt to rebel against everyone who thought less of him because he was Muslim, so, in turn, he decided to become devout and still be himself. By doing this, Waldman made Mo the perfect example of one who is a devout American peaceful Muslim so as to disprove the stereotypes that Americans had against Muslims. I would definitely agree that The Submission was entirely about betrayal. Alyssa, who could be considered the antagonist of the story, betrayed Asma and Claire, and Mo, in a way, betrayed all of America. However, I also think that irony was the biggest motif of the story, testing American for how true it really holds to it’s constitution and supposed rights and equality. I think Waldman was trying to portray America as wounded from 9/11, and using that as an excuse to waver in the face of justice when presented with the irony that is Mo. The title ‘The Submission’ carries many connotations. It is literally referring to Mo’s submission of the Garden, and yet also reminiscent of Mo’s religious submission. Ironically, the term ‘Islam’ translates directly to the total submission to God. I can’t rightfully say I enjoyed the book. I found myself being let down most of the time, like expecting Claire to fight for the Garden and Mo to not withdraw. Being immensely disappointed with the outcome and confused by the ending, I must say that book was a little anti-climactic, and that’s what made it bad to me."
--( posted on Oct 12, 2011, commenting on the post Responding to Amy Waldman’s The Submission Part 3 pp. 207-299 )
 
"I love European Paintings, particularly oil on canvas, which is why I decided to go into the 19th century European Art section. I sat down in front of Claude Monet's 'Water Lillies' (1919) and was taken to different places. I felt like I was 9 years old in Albania again, running around barefoot with my cousins in the dirt, orange and red in the setting sun, like the water in Monet's pond. I was looking into the same pond I looked into countless times in that same village, the same pond we all took turns trying to jump across, most of us turning up muddied to our knees. I felt nostalgia. But I also remembered being on a boat in Central Park with my boyfriend. It felt like we had pulled a little too close to shore, under a weeping willow. That day was sunny too, and the purple in the water represented that, pink clouds and all. The red in the lilies made me think of love, specifically for him and for that day."
--( posted on Oct 7, 2011, commenting on the post Met Museum Visit )
 
"After reading Part II of Amy Waldman’s ‘The Submission,’ I am finding myself being drawn into the story more than I was after reading Part I. The arguments have deepened, and I’ve also noted some character development. One I particularly enjoy reading about is Sean. That’s not to say I like Sean’s personality, because I don’t. I disliked him from the very start; he seemed to be leeching off of his brother’s death in order to get some meaning into his mundane, blue-collar life. I realized this especially when his mother told him “you talk more about him now that he’s gone than you talked to him when he was alive,”(pg. 183). The rallies against Mo’s design are just time fillers for him, and, getting his perspective on things, he doesn’t seem to very educated in what Islam truly entails. I enjoyed the wonderful irony of his embarrassment at having his bag searched in front of the MACC, it was like a type of payback for pulling down Zahira’s headscarf. The only character I’ve really sided with so far has been Mo. I understand that he feels he shouldn’t need to explain his design, and I somewhat support him for that, but I do think he should take the people around him into consideration. He needs to be a little more selfless for the sake of protecting the people he representing, Americans and Muslims and Muslim Americans alike. Mo’s design is having more of an affect than he seems to realize. People are perverting his garden into a “martyr’s paradise” things are just getting out of hand. When I first read about the “martyr’s paradise” comparison, I laughed out loud. It’s interesting to see the things that Waldman is coming up with, and I can’t help but wonder where she is drawing her inspiration."
--( posted on Oct 7, 2011, commenting on the post Responding to Amy Waldman’s The Submission Part 2 pp. 124-204 )
 
"Upon reading part one of Amy Waldman’s The Submission, I was instantly captivated by the characters that were the jurors. Claire struck me as the most fascinating of them all, for she was the only one there who had lost a family member, and her passionate fight for the garden memorial really had me sympathizing with her. Reading the way she described the memorial, “Beauty wasn’t a crime, but there was more than beauty here… reminders that a garden, for all its reliance on nature, was man-made…”(p.4), really drew me into her passion for it. The anonymous competition for the best design of a memorial for the dead of 9/11 was interesting from the very start, and Waldman seemed to have introduced it to us in medias res. She skipped over the start of the competition to the debate that would decide the winner, which I deemed very affective in her writing. The politics, however, do not truly come into play until Mohammed Khan’s name is revealed as the designer. This is when the jurors start to show their true colors. Richard Price wrote that The Submission is “a panoramic novel about the politics of grief in the wake of 9/11,” though I cannot wholly agree with him. There is more than politics coming into play here; it seems more like blatant discrimination. To call this argument against a Muslim designer “politics” would be a slight upon the pride of America and what this country has strived to obtain for so long: equality. Any American who reads about how Waldman portrays these New Yorkers, such as Sean and Alyssa, should feel ashamed that such people live in their country and still maintain a discriminatory outlook on life. Living in New York, I had never really encountered such obvious maliciousness towards Muslims in newspapers and therefore I believe Waldman to be exaggerating the public’s reaction a bit. I’ve heard of such radical reactions in other states in the U.S. but not so much in New York. To be perfectly honest, I do not really like Waldman’s style of writing. She puts too much of her own personality into the characters’ dialogue, making them ironically alike to each other, when I envision the exact opposite. It may be too early in the book for me to rightly judge, but so far I’ve been a little disheartened, and oftentimes very embarrassed, as the story progresses. She is trying to reveal a side to America that has taken a few hundred steps back in in it’s development towards equality, which I don’t believe to be rightly true. In fact, New Yorkers would have probably vouched for this Muslim architect in reality, because it would go against all that we stand for to do otherwise. It may be idealistic of me, but I believe that by the end of the book, the jurors will hold to their decision. The garden will hopefully be built, and Amy Waldman will stop perverting New Yorkers into racist, discriminatory people."
--( posted on Oct 3, 2011, commenting on the post Responding to Amy Waldman’s The Submission Part 1 pp. 3-119 )
 
"Daisy Berisha Since I couldn’t make it to the ICP on Friday, I ended up going to on Sunday, and it was quite the spectacle. Having never been to a photography exhibition, my time at the ICP was an entirely new experience. The 9/11 exhibit was compelling in a way that I could’ve never imagined. The black and white photos framed on the walls all seemed to reach out to me. I especially liked one photo of a hand reaching towards a snow globe encasing a miniature World Trade Center, covered in dust on the outside from the debris. It was very symbolic in that the glass about the toy towers was somehow protecting them from the dust, like our memories protect the tragedy of 9/11 from ever fading away. What I also found to be quite gripping was the showcase of photos that were submitted but didn’t make the cut; the photos that were in color instead of black and white. The room in which these photos were held seemed to light up with the color, whereas the rooms with the black and white photos seemed more sullen and dark."
--( posted on Sep 26, 2011, commenting on the post Class Trip to ICP, Xu Bing’s Dust, and Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop )
 
"Daisy Berisha On the ten year anniversary of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, I sat down on my living room couch to watch a documentary called “Countdown to 9/11” on the History Channel. This documentary had me very emotionally attached to the characters, especially those survivors the documenters managed to interview. One of the of the stories they captured that especially struck me was of a Vietnam Veteran named Rick Rescorla, one of the deceased of 9/11, who was the Vice President of Security at the World Trade Center. It was mentioned time and time again in the documentary that Rescorla had known that the next terrorist attack on the united states after 1993 would be at the World Trade Center, and he is often noted as having “predicted 9/11”(History Channel documentary titled “The Man Who Predicted 9/11”). Rescorla will always be remembered in history as a hero for ultimately sacrificing his own life to save and evacuate thousands of people from the south tower before it collapsed. Overall, this day was very melancholy and solemn. It went by quietly, no one feeling really comfortable playing any music or laughing too loudly. Flipping through the news channels, I saw live coverage of many memorials and commemoration ceremonies taking place and it gave me a sort of ambiguous feeling, as if I didn’t know whether to feel happy that New Yorkers took the time out to present speeches of commemoration, or sadness at the fact that so many names from so many different backgrounds were being recited with the knowledge that they, who were all loved dearly, are now dead. Watching the memorial fountain’s waters being pushed by the wind, casting shadows as it descended into a pool, I noticed that it eerily resembled ghosts moving along it’s walls. It was beautiful to watch as the names were being recited, pretending every shadow was that of a loved one long lost."
--( posted on Sep 11, 2011, commenting on the post What I did on 9/11 )
 
"Daisy Berisha In his article titled “Art and 9/11”, Arthur Danto skillfully connects tragedy to art in a way that may often go overlooked in society. With a specific connection to the French Revolution, Danto portrays the idea that art is a reaction. It is a reaction to anything in or around the artists’ realm of consciousness, and thus art is shaped by our daily experiences, and, inversely, the daily occurrences and experiences in our lives are shaped by our art. With this in mind, Danto knew that the art world would react with a “vernacular display of candles, flags, flowers” that essentially embody the sorrow of the event. It comes as no surprise that Danto’s first response to the tragedy of September 11th, 2001 was that of sorrow and disbelief, but it is interesting to note that he realized, almost instantly, the important role that the art world would play in reaction to the event. Interestingly, Danto didn’t really like the memorial light show in downtown Manhattan because he believed that the show was not doing enough to commemorate the loss of life: “It is wrong because it memorializes the structures without restoring the form of life they facilitated.” I find myself agreeing with this statement because the show was a form of artwork, and through it I got the impression that these lights were the shadows of the buildings, and nothing more. [WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us '1526160378 which is not a hashcash value."
--( posted on Sep 5, 2011, commenting on the post Response to Arthur Danto: Art and 9/11 Due Sept. 5 )
 
"Daisy Berisha In his article titled “Remember Life with Life: The New World Trade Center”, James Young addresses the controversy of how America should go about commemorating the victims of the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001 and also makes a proposal about the memorial himself. In a statement I found to be especially riveting, Young went on to write that “memory is, after all, a process, and is everlasting only when it remains a process and not a finished result” in regards to what a memorial must encompass. By saying this, I took Young to mean that we should never stop memorializing this tragic event, and we should somehow make it so that it takes up a certain part of our daily lives; whether it is by having to tend to this memorial consistently or making it a part of the landscape we gaze at through a subway car window. Though I realize the aforementioned statement was meant to be a direct correlation with his plan of planting and growing groves in the different locations of the attacks, I still agree wholeheartedly that a memorial should be a process, much like the process of watering and tending to a tree. I love the idea of “living memorials”, as Young put it so well, though I don’t know how well an already tight-fitting downtown Manhattan would do to accommodate 2,850 white blossoming trees, as well as other office buildings, museums, and new housing that would be built there. We might do better to locate these groves somewhere in central park, which is an, already, green scenery, than to place them at or near the location of the attack in Manhattan, where other structures more beneficial to our lifestyles, such as museums and schools, should be built. Young is, after all, essentially telling us to remember life with life, so what better way to do that than to build a memorial that is more advantageous to those living while also remembering those deceased? In the article, Young also goes on to coin the phrase “ever-changing landscape of memory”. To me, this statement means that the way in which we memorialize evolves, the same way art evolves through the centuries. In this generation, for instance, we may have a tendency to memorialize with building structures and naming them after certain people or places, but who’s to say the next generation will come to depend more on a different type of memorial, such as planting trees? All in all, the “ever-changing landscape of memory” can be seen as somewhat of a timeline but also a continuum of the different kinds of memorials of different and evolving cultures all over the world. [WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us '1526160378 which is not a hashcash value."
--( posted on Sep 5, 2011, commenting on the post Response to James Young: Due Sept. 5 )
 
"Hi! It's Daisy! This blog is awesome, as are all blogs. So I'm totally scared about how excited I am about this class..."
--( posted on Aug 30, 2011, commenting on the post Commitments )