Robyn – Page 178 – DocuDharma

Jan 03 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

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Muse in the Morning

The muses are ancient. The inspirations for our stories were said to be born from them. Muses of song and dance, or poetry and prose, of comedy and tragedy, of the inward and the outward. In one version they are Calliope, Euterpe and Terpsichore, Erato and Clio, Thalia and Melpomene, Polyhymnia and Urania.

It has also been traditional to name a tenth muse. Plato declared Sappho to be the tenth muse, the muse of women poets. Others have been suggested throughout the centuries. I don’t have a name for one, but I do think there should be a muse for the graphical arts. And maybe there should be many more.

Please join us inside to celebrate our various muses…

Jan 02 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

Please join us inside to celebrate our various muses…

Jan 01 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

Please join us inside to celebrate our various muses…

Jan 01 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

Pains

The Damage Done

Aches and pains

of muscles and bones

of nerves and organs

are bearable

when old injuries

to the psyche

have been soothed

when the twinges

of a fragile confidence

the throbbing

of squandered initiative

and the millions of stings

that punctured

a too slim veneer

of self-esteem

have been given

tender care

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–March 4, 2008

Dec 31 2007

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

Please join us inside to celebrate our various muses…

Dec 30 2007

Aggregating: a year in a life

By Robyn

We get older. As we do, it sometimes seems regrettable that we may be running out of time to say what we have to say…need to say…and do what we have to do. So much effort in life is spent trying to support having the time to do what we deem important, that it often seems that the important stuff doesn’t get done.

There isn’t enough time.

Then, of course, there is the fact that what we may deem important to do to improve the world around us is not something others will see the importance of. We are each doomed to practice our own brand of insanity. Or not.

My life has been full of Or not moments. I may have chosen Or not too many times. Or not.

In the last quarter of my life there were times when I did not choose Or not. The Observer in me recorded the words. I spent much of the past year sharing some of them.

Now available in Orange

Dec 29 2007

Commentary

By Robyn in Teaching

Originally posted at Teacher’s Lounge

One of the reasons I put such a high value on commentary is that there are times when a comment or two can snap things back into focus…or at least remind us of another time and another focus that perhaps needs to be revisited.

At the end of this semester, besides being 60 years old, I will have been a teacher for 32 years. I have taken it as an article of faith that what I have been doing is trying to find more and better ways of expound upon Truth. I have told the same stories over and over again in a myriad different ways, looking for the light bulbs and trying to measure their luminosity.

Outside the classroom the world becomes my classroom and Truth is no longer restricted to learning mathematics or computer languages, but rather about life in general. In particular I have focused on what goes on in the human brain. The only one I happen to be able to experiment upon is my own, so there is bound to be bias in my sample. But I have concentrated on the possible, not on the probable, so I’ve not considered that too much of a flaw.

Dec 29 2007

Friday Philosophy: Perfecting my own brand of insanity

By Robyn in Philosophy

What happens if you let your mind flow? What words don’t get written or spoken if you do?

Life is often about the words not written, about what a person chooses not to say. Or maybe rather it might be about the words one has no time to say.

There is also a lot of meaning in the moments between the words. But how does one capture it? Certainly not with words.

Sometimes there are images. But even as the images are being created, there is a chatter. Forever something is begging me for attention. I imagine they are thoughts. Given the world I was raised in, they are probably contending to be given voice rather than cooperating efficiently. A jumble of ideas struggling to interact, analog in a digital age.

Dec 28 2007