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Tired Hands
Apr. 28th, 2008 10:40 pmI woke up tired this morning, but convinced myself to go rowing anyways, and as usual, rowing did not disappoint. It wasn't the most exciting of mornings, but I'm glad I got out there.
Then I came home and used up some leftover buttermilk to make buttermilk pancakes, complete with Herman and sprinkled with poppyseeds and sesame seeds. Oh, and topped with strawberries and whipped cream. Let's just say that I like breakfast, a lot.
Then I went in to school, and finished grading my students' exams, as I'd promised I would. By the time that was finished, I had just enough time to eat a bite of lunch before heading over to hear the first part of a lecture by Peter Singer.
I'm almost glad I wasn't able to stay. I found his supposedly ethical arguments for the humane treatment of animals to be illogical and therefore irritating. I, for one, can think of much more reasonable approaches for thinking or arguing about the subject instead of having to rely on concepts of consciousness (how about a more general concept of relation to the world around us? Why should animals--and only certain animals, at that--get the special treatment?). But I had to run off to office hours, which provided a convenient excuse to leave. For questions, the lecture organizers handed out 3x5 index cards to be passed to the front, so after hearing the brief segment I stayed for, I simply asked why Singer relied on this shaky concept of consciousness instead of appealing to a broader aesthetic. It would have been nice if he had gotten to the question, but I'll never know. Honestly, Elaine Scarry's approach (see On Beauty and Being Just), or Wendell Berry's perspective or David Abrahm's viewpoint would make for a more pleasing argument, in my humble opinion. Yet somehow this guy is a well-renowned dude at Princeton. Go figure.
Seeing the students who came to office hours one last time was touching and a bit sad. I'm going to miss this bunch--they were enthusiastic, sharp-witted and fun. But it will be good for them to move on. I can only hope that something that I've said, advice or otherwise, will stick with each of them and have a positive influence on their lives.
Then I got to have a nice chat with a faculty member who is full of insights, and then ate a bit of dinner before heading over to ceramics, which I realize I'd been looking forward to all day.
You see, last week, I played around with some stains, just to see how they worked since I've finally switched to light-colored clays where stains will actually show. After staining these first four porcelain pieces, I glazed them, and today I finally had a chance to see the results of my labor. And the results have been astoundingly beautiful. I might even take some pictures. I think I've finally found the art that I've been after, that combination of ceramics and painting, and on top of that, an outlet for my fondness for black silhouettes, which started back when I was drawing with compressed charcoal.
After admiring my handiwork, I got to work throwing, which went quite well. I'd bought a bag of B Mix with Sand the week before and had started working with it then, but didn't get very far, so tonight was my first real big test run with the stuff. Compared to the porcelain, and even to the Jamaican (black clay) I'd been using before, it's strong and resilient, though its surface develops a somewhat odd texture. I had one of those nights where I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that yes, I could throw, and am not doomed to a life of throwing bowls.
I threw three tall cylinders, which will be turned into pitchers, as well as some spouts, and now it's the end of a long day and my hands are tired from the work. But it's a good feeling.
Then I came home and used up some leftover buttermilk to make buttermilk pancakes, complete with Herman and sprinkled with poppyseeds and sesame seeds. Oh, and topped with strawberries and whipped cream. Let's just say that I like breakfast, a lot.
Then I went in to school, and finished grading my students' exams, as I'd promised I would. By the time that was finished, I had just enough time to eat a bite of lunch before heading over to hear the first part of a lecture by Peter Singer.
I'm almost glad I wasn't able to stay. I found his supposedly ethical arguments for the humane treatment of animals to be illogical and therefore irritating. I, for one, can think of much more reasonable approaches for thinking or arguing about the subject instead of having to rely on concepts of consciousness (how about a more general concept of relation to the world around us? Why should animals--and only certain animals, at that--get the special treatment?). But I had to run off to office hours, which provided a convenient excuse to leave. For questions, the lecture organizers handed out 3x5 index cards to be passed to the front, so after hearing the brief segment I stayed for, I simply asked why Singer relied on this shaky concept of consciousness instead of appealing to a broader aesthetic. It would have been nice if he had gotten to the question, but I'll never know. Honestly, Elaine Scarry's approach (see On Beauty and Being Just), or Wendell Berry's perspective or David Abrahm's viewpoint would make for a more pleasing argument, in my humble opinion. Yet somehow this guy is a well-renowned dude at Princeton. Go figure.
Seeing the students who came to office hours one last time was touching and a bit sad. I'm going to miss this bunch--they were enthusiastic, sharp-witted and fun. But it will be good for them to move on. I can only hope that something that I've said, advice or otherwise, will stick with each of them and have a positive influence on their lives.
Then I got to have a nice chat with a faculty member who is full of insights, and then ate a bit of dinner before heading over to ceramics, which I realize I'd been looking forward to all day.
You see, last week, I played around with some stains, just to see how they worked since I've finally switched to light-colored clays where stains will actually show. After staining these first four porcelain pieces, I glazed them, and today I finally had a chance to see the results of my labor. And the results have been astoundingly beautiful. I might even take some pictures. I think I've finally found the art that I've been after, that combination of ceramics and painting, and on top of that, an outlet for my fondness for black silhouettes, which started back when I was drawing with compressed charcoal.
After admiring my handiwork, I got to work throwing, which went quite well. I'd bought a bag of B Mix with Sand the week before and had started working with it then, but didn't get very far, so tonight was my first real big test run with the stuff. Compared to the porcelain, and even to the Jamaican (black clay) I'd been using before, it's strong and resilient, though its surface develops a somewhat odd texture. I had one of those nights where I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that yes, I could throw, and am not doomed to a life of throwing bowls.
I threw three tall cylinders, which will be turned into pitchers, as well as some spouts, and now it's the end of a long day and my hands are tired from the work. But it's a good feeling.
