Final Reflection

What insights has your study of Australian Literature and Art given you into the importance of creativity as part of human experience?

When it comes to literature, I just thought of it has everyone form of expression towards their emotions. However, when doing this course about Australian literature, it’s about something much more than emotions, it’s a taste in history, a vision of somebody’s else’s dream or even nightmare. It’s reality and delusions mixed together to not only form a message but leave something behind for those who will see the world from a whole different time or place.

I am not very powerful when it comes to expression, and though my texts aren’t always clear or concise as the authors we study, it doesn’t appear as a disadvantage to me anymore.

When it comes to writing blogs about the Australian landscape, natives and settlers, I see this country as a new world. This whole imagery the authors had created like D.H.Lawrence, who had taught me how there is beauty within the things that we may consider as nothing. His poem ‘Kangaroo’ had given me insight on how his experience towards the untouched raw Australian land can appear a ’formless beauty.’ I’ve never seen the words ‘formless’ and ‘beauty’ be placed together and yet it works to form a strong message of Lawrence’s experience with just the use of two words. Creativity in literature is proven to be important in expressing  a person’s experience, as we all know that our attention spans have shortened and having something as simple as two words can change how we see the ordinary land we trample on day after day.

There are also horrors that will try to remain in silence if weren’t for authors who had been consumed by the guilt of others such as Judith Wright’s ‘Niggers leap, New England.’

Even through artworks like ‘From a distant land’ by David Davies 1889, express so much with just so little. A picture means a thousand words, and when it comes to Australian history, there are many words that can be formed within each Australian based on a picture. In history books and documentaries, we all receive the common points of how Australia was seen as this new land with new opportunities. However, Davies’ art expresses a man whose emotions appear to contradict each other and has found himself baffled over what he now considers true a home. This gave me insight that not everything is as simple as it might’ve been, as the creative usage of having an ordinary man with a perplexed look on his face and a letter from a distant land, shows the man’s experience and probably many others experience that was overseen due to its ordinary setting. however, the ordinary scene is what gave us an extraordinary discovery.

And when it comes to creativity, it’s not just an emotional rollercoaster but more of an experimentation that can lead to new findings of both self-discovery and awareness of just how much curiosity can teach you when you allow it to grow. Such as my 1st creative ‘I am your descendant, but that does not make me you’

For my Critical text, it was a little tricky for me to adapt to. I’ve never done blogs before and honestly I’ve never felt comfortable with allowing my ideologies to be expressed without believing them to be wrong.  But after some time and some lessons within the tutorials, I found that to no longer bother me. My first blog Week 2 ( I think) – Surrender Disguised as Friendship, is what I believe to be my best critical.

As to what I learned throughout this whole course,  there is always more to an emotion or an experience, but they can easily be overlooked due to its ordinary setting. It is the authors, artists or any creative occupations goal to reveal how the ordinary is extraordinary. It’s an ordinary human experience being expressed creatively that makes it feel extraordinary.

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Peer Review #8 Claire Williamson

https://clairewilliamsonlit.wordpress.com/2016/05/06/week-8-post-6/

Hi Claire,

I liked pretty much everything about your understanding with the text ‘Orange Tree’. Especially the last line

In the end, the better role model was not the adult, but the orange tree

It was informative and interesting, as you included questions near the begging to draw the audience in so they will read until te answer is revealed. Good technique by the way, I’ll keep in mind to use it myself. It was also quick and simple but still clear and concise, which is actually a good thing for blogs. I quite liked and would gladly follow your blog.

Week 10 (Creatively Critical……Don’t ask)

Based around Malouf’s ideas in “The Only Speaker of His Tongue” write a short piece in which you show what you understand by the phrase: “Language is that blood“.

 

When it comes to language, it can be seen as many things. It is a form of communication, which allows people to connect, but it can also disconnect people when those of us do not speak the same language. It can be what defines us, how we think and structure our words are all based on how we learnt to speak, then how we speak amplifies how we see the world.  All of this I already know, I know language is part of our culture, it is what we grow up with. But erase that language and you are erasing a part of yourself.

When growing up with a language that barely exists, is similar to saying that who you are, just barely exists. When people ask me what language I speak, so many give me bewildering eyes, a perplexed look that doesn’t know how to respond to my answer. But, when I hear someone else speak of their tongue, it is almost like a spark was ignited between two people, especially when they find that they can both speak in that same different tongue. Like an unknown family member was finally delivered to them, they are not connected by blood, though their language allows them to act like they do.

However, if someone was to learn that language, it will not be the same. Just as it is for me. No-one else speaks what I speak. But if a stranger from a completely different background from me could, it will still mean nothing to me. They will not appreciate the structure of every word the same as I do, they will see it as something new while I see it as the old. They will consider it an achievement to speak in, while I’ll consider it as my default form of communication. They may speak my language, but that does not mean they are the same as me. They will not connect with me just because they can talk to me, similar to how a dog and a wolf would be, they may communicate the same  way, but their worlds are still too different.

To speak my blood tongue is to see the world through my ancestor’s eyes, to have their knowledge be what guides me, as every word create a map of how they had once seen the world. Their blood is now my blood, and their language is a part of who I am just as my skin, my face, my hair, and my eyes. My language is a part of me just as your language is a part of you, but take that away, get rid of others who could speak it from me, and you are getting rid of me.




 

Yeah, this was a little bit of me trying to mix in a critical response as a creative text. It is actually about my culture and how I’ve felt towards it compared to seeing other people’s culture and languages. It gives off a sense of omission and a little bit of loneliness like something a part of you is missing though you know there is no way of gaining that part back. I figured that I might as well end my last Oz Lit Blog with something that I can use as part of my own experience as well, and it does work with what I wanted to say for Malouf’s possible idea towards the phase. (Maybe I did that a little too much)

Well, this is definitely something that had helped my better understand my mistakes and constant need to fix my writing skills. I maybe… just maybe…. Write more blogs every week, however they will based on something else.

Well good bye to whoever is reading this, and remember (read the picture at the bottom)

http://www.teachingsuperpower.com/2013_09_01_archive.html

Peer Review #7 Serena Saliba

https://serenasaliba.wordpress.com/2016/05/11/letter-to-patrick-white/

Hi Serena 

Your letter to Mr White, is quite a unique and almost daring letter to write to him even if he never does read it. What I liked about it was how you question and even admit that he has a confusing streak in his poems of whether he loves or hates Australia. That is something I wouldn’t even dare to admit to people even if I know they will never read it. I think what’s powerful about this, is that you write exactly what you feel, and what others may also have felt but might not have the guts to reveal such feelings. In a way, you do not limit yourself to the approval of the reader or readers, which is what will make you a good journalist or author if you choose to be. Your writing was also clear and straight to the point, another reason why I think just by reading this post, you will become a good writer. 

Week 9 (4th Creative Writing)

4/Write a letter to Meg in “Down at the Dump” telling her what you think about her relationship with Lummy.

Dear Meg, a character who will definitely read this. 

When it comes to parents who are nothing more but unbearably controlling and in need of a stress pill, it is best to not go behind their backs.

And dating a boy from the dumps when your mother is a control neat freak, will definitely count. When it comes to relationships, you cannot think of it as someone who you only connect with, because in the end, it’s not just you who will be connecting with that person. Your mother, father, and siblings (though you don’t have any) will need to connect and appreciate them in order for a family to grow. Otherwise, resentment will seep into family’s hearts, and the moment the person who they resent will appear in need of help, pity or compassion, those things specifically will be an omission to such families traits. 

It is not best to grow a relationship that was constructed with deception. And yes, your feeling may be true to Lummy, however, is independence or Lummy for that matter, worth the tear of your family’s trust, your mother’s trust. There is a saying, that when it comes to trust, it’s a lot like a mirror. When you break someone’s trust, it’s like breaking a mirror, and like a mirror, trust can be put back together, however, the cracks will always remain and there is no reversing it. 

When it comes to Lummy, I do not consider it as love, but as you trying desperately to become an independent woman, and what better way to prove that than to date a boy your mother would never approve. The only question remained, is trying to be an independent woman worth the cracks that will forever scar and remind you of the trust you were willing to lose? If so, then that boy must really mean something to you. 

Image from https://iso.500px.com/video-7-funky-photo-ideas-to-get-your-creative-juices-flowing/

Emily Dick – Peer Review #6

https://emilydickblog.wordpress.com/2016/05/05/blog-6/

Your Blog 6 is a very powerful critical response to Francis Webb’s ‘End of Picnic.’ I like how you analyse Webb’s usage of descriptive language and negative connotations. Something of which I haven’t found much of in other blogs so far. You writing really shows how much you analyse and critic poems, as well as illuminating your reasons to why the author is expressing behind key quotes the way they do. It is clear and concise which is perfect for a blog post.

But the reason why I consider it as powerful is because of how well you are able to express your unique ideas while having actual quotes of the poem back up such ideas as evidence. You’re not just analysing the poem, you are critically questioning and answering the message it is trying to express.

So well done,  it is evident that you’ve worked hard on every blog you’ve posted. Keep up the good work!

 

Week 8 (3rd Creative Writing)

2/Write a short creative or critical piece that is inspired by any of the works that we have looked at this week (in lectures & tutorials).

Watch how the sun rises,

how he claws out from the land, in such desperation to escape the dark.

But he does not stop running, even when he sits in the middle of clouds

and all the darkness had hidden away, he still runs.

He runs to the far west corner, it took him the whole day to reach.

But even when he reaches the west he does not stop running,

He tries desperately to find east, it took him the whole night to reach.

But even when he reaches the east he does not stop running,

 

 

Yes, the sun never stops running,

but that does not mean he does not see the clouds beneath him

or the land beneath the clouds, or the creatures that inhabit the land.

He is running, but do not make the mistake that he is blind,

Do not mistake that he does not see how you start, grow and change.

He sees how your first words that had brought joy and excitement

will eventually spit out venom on those who you wish to hurt.

 

He sees how children had only seen the world through their eyes,

and how they grow tall only to perceive the world with their minds.

Leaving them the ones who are blind to what is in front of them.

He sees how you once were so simple, so perfect; unhindered

and he sees how you break,

how the you must be chipped, cracked and torn from who you were

Only to be titled adults.

 

Your compassion, your empathy, your humanity

You were all born with them, and all will be broken and reformed,

and what little scrapes is left over will determine how you will see the people, the land and the creatures you title as either value or soulless burdens.

 

The sun is always running,

and as time follows him he sees who you become,

what you do and how you hurt, not knowing the wrong,

the darkness within the history you draw light to.

He sees it all around the earth, and he is afraid.

 

 

That is why the sun keeps running,

not from the darkness that we title as night,

but from the cruelty and selfishness that comes when we grow.


 

In Neilson’s poem ‘The Orange Tree,’ i was inspired by the idea of how growing up changes how you think and see things. The girl had seen the world with only her eyes, but the adult had seen it as all the other troubles and values that dwell in his mind. I then wondered nd the reason for that. Was it part of growing up or was it part of losing something about yourself.

This was originally another poem but i wasn’t able to properly get the wordings right without it actually being obivouse on how bad i am with poems. So this is what was left instead.

I had actually done some research and found this beauty.

It’s about how children were able to identify something so horrid just by seeing it, yet adults seem to not allow such things to bother them. I want you to watch this video and picture the cruelty to animals photos being replaced with how the aboriginals were treated. Do you think children would react the same?

We know it is wrong yet we are in a wolrd where we still treat them with such cruelty. How we treat animals was the same way how Australian had treated Aboriginals. We treat them with no compassion or care to how they feel and we do it because we see them as beneath us or something wihtout real souls or emotions. That was why the Aboriginals had sufferred, our compassion was lost as a child and the adults who took over the land had lost theirs. The world needs compassion, so don’t let a child lose theirs.