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Looking back and rereading my initial essay, silence has since taken on a bigger definition, a wider range of activities and has also become a more comfortable topic for me. When I was writing my first essay, my thoughts of silence and being silenced all strung back to events of feeling silenced or silencing because it would be more convenient for others and me to not speak up. In my history of silence, it has been more convenient for me to stay silent because I felt I was wasting my breath and thoughts on attempts to comment on people’s comments. I don’t think I was trying to “correct them” but I guess I felt like it could sound like it. But with that, I didn’t feel like I was being listened to, I felt like they would be waiting for their turn to speak.

After I posted this image, Anne directed me to the “Women in walled communities” 360. I’ve been thinking more about the school as an institution (which, for me, has negative connotations), keeping us walled in. Is there an invisible wall in my 'Sound of Music' image? The mountains as a geographical/physical/visible obstacle, the convent as ideological/mental/invisible obstacle?

Am I resilient to these walls? By selecting an image that shows some sort of twisted freedom, I think that, perhaps, I am actively resisting that invisible structure.

On another note, I would categorize my image as anthropocentric – I chose an image centered on my human experience of Bryn Mawr; that is, one of emotional constraints and freedoms, imposed by other humans and the physical structures that house this campus/institution. Even though I chose to foreground and background different aspects, the campus is still designed (tweaked and treated with specific regard to human life and convenience) around people, so why shouldn’t I map it in this way?

As I re-read the prompt for this paper (which was about a thousand times), I still have trouble understanding it and even coming up with an answer. Ever since we started class, I have been having trouble visualizing silence. I understand it to be the inability to speak/express yourself, either because you do not want to or because someone/something won’t let you. I read almost all the papers that are already posted to see if I can get an idea of what to write about, or what the question is asking. After reading the papers, I still do not have an answer, which (with a little help from Sarah) led me to conclude that the openness/vagueness of the question is silencing me.

 I guess I can relate this predicament to my academic life here at Bryn Mawr. A lot of the times, if not all the time, when there is an assignment, it takes me a while to completely comprehend what is being asked. This makes me think of our last class when we spoke about the different levels of comprehension and “education” in all of my classes. If there were a time where I am silenced in a classroom, it would definitely be when I am being asked to reason or think about something that is fairly foreign to me.

Looking back at my images, this one does seem more anthropocentric than the second, if I view it from a smaller animal's perspective. Around Rhoad's Pond, there aren't many animals that would be able to see the grass, blossoms, and lake from the angle this photo takes. I was kneeling on my knees when I took this picture, because I wanted to get the trees, grass, petals, fence, and lake all in one image. I wanted to encompass the surroundings in this photo. In deciding which pict to post the first time, I had a hard time deciding between this and the second, because I had a feeling somehow that this one  was not as specific to the sight, or seemed to not fit somehow. Now I realize perhaps why I felt that way.

This weekend I had the misfortune to not be able to visit my location of choice on the Bryn Mawr campus, the moon bench. I chose this spot because I think its position gives it a unique and enticing view of the campus. You can look right up senior row through the Pembroke arch, over the valley of athletic fields to Cambrien row, and survey the Merion green. Sadly I wasn’t able to do any of these things, I was however able to attend a picturesque wedding in the Adirondacks of New York, specifically in Saranac Lake. My cousin Adrien and his wife Julia were married on September 22, 2012 at 3 pm in a little white chapel in the middle of the woods. It was perfect; there was no cell phone reception, no noise of the highway, a city, or anything other than the noise of the woods and of the people gathered to celebrate this momentous event. The wedding placed emphasis on the union between Adrien and Julia, as all weddings place emphasis on the couple, however Adrien and Julia made it clear from the start that although this event celebrated them, their relationship would not be possible without the support and love they received from members of their community. This was reflected in the interactive ceremony they had, the potluck, and the contra dancing that all took place that night. Julia is a park ranger in the Adirondacks and her appreciation and care for the environment shown through in their eco-friendly, environmentally conscious ceremony and reception.

The thing that struck me most about my experience in my spot today was coming back inside.  Outside, my hour was peaceful.  It was sunny and there was a light breeze.  I was for the most part left alone by the labrynth, just relaxing and observing nature.  As soon as I started to walk back to my dorm, though, my inner monologue started reciting all of the things I had to do when I got back.  I stepped back into my technology and my homework without a thought, leaving the peace I experienced back where I found it.  I had an epiphany while reading my art history textbook that it did not have to be this way.  I could bring the good feelings I had outside into my attitude even when I was doing work.  Needless to say, I was much less stressful after that thought.  

      The more time that passes --- the more time I have to process the "restorative justice" mural tour yesterday, the more problematic I find it... and the mural arts program in general (plus someof the comments made by our tour guide). The question I'm contemplating most now is about the difference between these murals and street art/graffiti. Especially if one (the mural) is combatting/silencing the other.

          Although I want to respond to my first web event on active listening, I don’t think I will be able to. I’ve learned so much about communication and how communication is affected by privilege since that reflection that I have to move in another direction.

            This past week in the 360 has been an emotionally charged one – challenging, frustrating, belief shaking. After Tuesday’s class, I felt so confused about my voice, about my place in the world and my privilege that I walked out of class in a daze, and ended up screaming in the woods with Johanna. After Thursday’s class on academia, rationality, and coherence, I was flooded with doubts about how I speak and write. My classes have never left me feeling so vulnerable and uncertain about everything – so I’m in a place of utter confusion.

Why am I the only one in class who adopted an indoor campus site at first? I must admit I have long been “suffering “ from “natural deficit disorder” coined by Richard Louv in his book: Last Child in the woods 2005. I remembered how I causally read that book and didn’t buy his words at all. I have been so comfortable residing within the concrete walls of human creations that I rarely try to look up to the sky.

Sitting on the bench on the plain grass platform behind Thomas Great Hall on Friday night, so how, maybe out of boredom, I looked up the sky. The star were amazing, more beautiful than the night sky I watched in document films, and more approachable. How much more I am missing?

New site I chose