Sometime not too distant,
There will come a day
When you will return to
A frequent state of play.
When that day comes around,
You'll have lost all concern
For the adults' belief that
Frivolity must be spurned.
You'll take to tossing balls
And climbing up the walls,
Just like you used to do
When you were one or two --
Before that human zoo
Got its hooks in you.
By the measure of having taught still useful lessons about HOW to think (those who taught me WHAT to think are largely forgotten along with their lessons,) that would be a tie between my 11th grade Psychology teacher and an undergrad Religious Studies professor. The former, among other ideas, first exposed me to what I would come to believe is the most important lesson of human existence under his label of the “gestalt of expectations.” [I’ve never heard anyone else refer to it as such, but the lesson was sound and I would latter find it in philosophies from Buddhism to Stoicism.] The latter teacher, among other ideas, exposed me to two common opposing modes of fallacious thinking, what he called “the outhouse fallacy” and “the first-est is best-est fallacy” (he was a folksy, if erudite, professor.)
In terms of personal growth and development, generally speaking, there are numerous teachers of martial arts, yoga, and other mind-body practices that are incomparable and thus unrankable. Not to mention, a sound argument can made for the repugnantly unhumble statement that I am my most influential (and most important) teacher. (I state this claim not as though I am unique, but as one that could apply to anyone.)
Heavy Indian Club movement patterns and the core tenets of Perennial Philosophy.
I’ve been learning to juggle. It’s an excellent skill because you have to fail a million times before you can be successful, and you can’t partially fail or fail in a controlled fashion. It’s kind of all or nothing. So, it teaches persistence and to be less prone to becoming demoralized. It also teaches one a lot about how one’s mind works at the speed of instinct.
I feel out of place in social settings pretty much everywhere and always. This, perhaps surprisingly, has made me an excellent and avid traveler because I feel the same level of out of place among a group of people who speak a different native language, practice an unfamiliar religion, and who have different skin and hair characteristics as I would with a group of people who share a common ancestry, went to the same school, and grew up with the same cultural trappings. This creates an internal pressure to go to unfamiliar places, because familiar places offer the same anxiety with none of the learning opportunities, whereas the unfamiliar always offers new lessons.
There are so many. Life is short and there’s so much to learn. There are swim strokes (and related skills) I’d like to pick up, including drownproofing. I never learned to drive a proper motorcycle. Archery would be nifty.
What are you curious about?
Everything. But I have learned to be less obsessed with the grand metaphysical questions for which no one has any defensible answers – just rank speculation. Socrates convinced me it’s not worth worrying about abstractions while one is still struggling with fundamental questions of how to be human.
What makes a teacher great?
If a student (or students) voluntarily and enthusiastically come to learn from an individual, that individual is a great teacher.
The emphasis is on “to learn” because some people confuse great charisma with great pedagogy, but such people go to the charismatic person to take comfort from being in that person’s presence, not to learn — despite whatever truisms or clever-sounding parallel grammatical structures the charismatic individual might spout.
So, if one would go to an individual seeking knowledge, knowing the experience will be challenging and not merely comforting, one has found a great teacher.
Words memorized rote are a meal wholly undigested, That's why memorization is utterly detested. Rote learning is, somehow, bloating and yet never filling. One takes it all in by way of monotonous drilling, but while you're still filling your cup you're already spilling. You pass your test and purge it all. It's so unfulfilling. If I may, please let me suggest that here's what you should do: get the gist, play with it, and find out what it means to you.
Teaching Artfully by Meghan Parker
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Out: May 4, 2021 in India (It may be out already where you live.)
While I’m not an art teacher and this book is clearly directed at art teachers, I took away a number of useful lessons nevertheless. The book is laid out as a comic book, and is meant to extol the virtues of that artform while at the same time conveying knowledge about art, teaching, and the teaching of art.
The book is organized into seven chapters that are loosely themed according to the seven elements of art: line, color, form, texture, shape, space, and value [in the sense of the level of lightness / darkness.] The connection between the artistic characteristic and what is conveyed in its chapter is more readily apparent for some chapters than for others.
Chapter one (Line) both presents how the book came to be and what the intention behind it is, and also has something to say about process. The second chapter is entitled “Color,” and it touches upon issues such as the nature of aesthetics, the value of the notion of embodiment to the artistic endeavor, and the role of imagination. Chapter three is “Form” and it explores how time, space, and story play into conveying knowledge, as well as offering insight into how form influences perception. The next chapter is “Texture, and it has a lot to do with interaction and human relationships as they pertain to the art classroom. “Shape” investigates the issue of boundaries, such as what really differentiates artist from non-artist, the grammar of comics, and the role of the teacher. It also presents a number projects that might be introduced in the classroom or in one’s self-study. “Space” is probably the most literal title as it discusses the classroom space as well as the more figurative space given to students. The final chapter (Value) has a lot to say about frames of reference and the analogy of painting frames to the frames that individuals operate in and see the world through.
There is a Conclusion that provides some summation of ideas, and there are also notes and a page of references. This book shined a spotlight on a few other books that intrigue me, but that would have been completely outside my awareness — given I don’t read much about the visual arts, but I’m increasingly finding it to be a topic of interest.
As I said, even though its outside my bailiwick, I took away some intriguing lessons from this book — particularly about how variations in the elements of art encourage different emotional and psychological responses. There are a few excellent quotes as well. These powerful lessons weren’t in every frame. A fair amount of space is devoted to both platitudes and [hopefully] cathartic rants about the challenge of being a teacher, and particularly a teacher of art.
The book is festively drawn and colored and (as befits a book focusing on the visual arts) I got even more out of how ideas were portrayed visually than how they were discussed textually. The book takes a light and whimsical approach, and is pretty to look at.
If you’re interested in learning more about the visual arts, I’d highly recommend picking this book up.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 