Link to What's New ThisWeek Debriefing Our First Hypertext Poem

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Freeing the Feminine Other

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California State University, Dominguez Hills
University of Wisconsin, Parkside
Created: May 2, 2004
Latest Update: May 2, 2004

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Index of Topics on Site Debriefing Our First Hypertext Poem

Now the show is over
it's time to pack up pictures
and equipment

time to record memories
and ask ourselves
just how we did.

I'm alone here now. So I'll have to put my memories up first.

  1. What do I remember?

    Velma's paintings. Both the one she brought for the show originally, when I put it up horizontally and she hung it vertically. Black and white and red drips, almost like a Jackson Pollock. Over the course of the two days we found a cat shrieking and running, two snakes, (Lilith?), a snail or water animal in the depths and a bird at the top edge, a big bird. Of course, that's when the painting was horizontal, my way. When we turned it vertically, I swear that cat was crawling desperately up the top as fast as he could, but I didn't know why.

    Then of course, Velma brought the CD she burned of her red room, and I fell in love with the levitating vase. This was more than looking at pictures. We were there with those pictures throughout the two days, and we played with them, enjoyed them, imagined where we could go with them. I remember that. And I miss them.

  2. What else?

    Stephan's enthusiasm as he demonstrated the history of television as it was in the 60s and as it is now. This guy would be a fantastic teacher. He has an aura of learning around him. And when the young children whose work was exhibited came in to visit, Stephan had so much enthusiasm for them, they each grew a foot taller.

  3. What else?

    The pimp goblets we made sitting around table 13. The glue guns that never worked because all of us bought the wrong glue, even when Pat went back twice.

    The fun Leandre Williams had when he came and discovered that his art work was on display. And Pat's reaction when I tried to give Leandre, at least I think it was Leandre, later that day, the pimp cup we had made for the project. Leandre refused my offer, and Pat fussed at me because she intended to keep it for the office. A Pimp cup? I'd never even heard of such a thing before the exhibit last semester, and Michael told me that Snoopy Dogg Dogg had one on Saturday night live last week. Of course, in Freeing the Feminine Other, the goblet doubles as a chalice, reminding us of the virgin half of our identity. Or should we focus on Aucassin and Nicolette when we free the feminine other? Mine's a chalice. No way am I walking around with a pimp cup.

    And the sign-in book that we lost the second day. Everyone claimed to have seen it, but no one could find it. We found it an hour before closing in jeanne's briefcase. Duh!

    Oh, and I will never forget falling, flat down on the sidewalk, when all I was trying to do was to rearrange the paintings in the trunk of the car because the warning light said it was open. Pat called from her car to ask if I needed help, as I assured her I could handle this. And then, a minute later she heard me howling, "I think I need a little help," from the ground. Gee, I think the doctor's right, my balance is a little off.

    I remember being paranoid enough to have trouble to convince the kids that they didn't make us pack up and move to another room the second day just to be mean. They wouldn't. And then I started to wonder myself, as Pat assured us they hadn't used the room we moved from. Had, too. I saw it when we were leaving. They had used it for the graduation. Hello, school, it would be nice if somebody were to say something nice to us when we do this stuff, so we wouldn't think you hate us (me?).

    I remember sitting around the goblet table debriefing Sheryell on her spiritual display. And I remember the Machu Picchu paintings. We all wanted to go and none of us had been. And I remember lots more like George's hour sermon on the TV. But I gotta go eat. I'm hungry.

    Your turn now. First tell me what you remember, like stream of consciousness kind of memory. Then we'll go back and analyze our collective memories. And I;ll tell you more of my memories later. . . .

    Site Copyright: Jeanne Curran and Susan R. Takata and Individual Authors, May 2004.
    "Fair use" encouraged.