I barely touched the soil. I sat on a tree branch and listened. I listened to the back and forth of bugs. Conversing with others, trying to scare others away, or making noise just because they could, I don't know. All I know is that they spun a song that only I, under their willow tree, could hear. This afternoon, I parted the vines that the falling willow branches formed. I decided which of the four large branches to sit on, and then I listened. I expected the shade of the tree to make the chilly day even more goose bump-inducing, but the enclosure that the willow's branches formed made me more cozy, so I didn't notice the chill as much as I had walking to the tree. After I sat, I walked around the tree, as if to pay respect to all of the tree's attributes, not just the one branch I sat on. There are initials gashed into the tree's exterior, some hearts, some that seem to have been made by lovers, and others by one person trying to stake his or her claim on the tree. I saw a pool of water that has been there every time I have paid tribute to that willow, stagnant in a basin that a root has opened into. I decided that I will work my way up the branches. Today, even though I was sitting in the tree, my feet were still firmly on the ground. Next Sunday, I'll go higher. I'll slide and climb and jump my way onto the highest position I can sit in by the end of this project. Along with observing the word under the tree, I'll also become more adventurous, inch by inch, and Sunday by Sunday.

Silence feels a whole lot more complicated than it did when I wrote my first paper on the images of protest that Esty used to represent silence, and the difference between my feelings and thoughts about silence now and the image I posted three weeks ago of the moonrise, my image of silence, is huge. Over the summer, because I was alone in a country where I did not speak the language fluently, I became accustomed to silence, and though I hated and feared it at first, I grew to appreciate it, even need it to some degree. That, I suppose, is where the calm, peaceful image of space comes from.

Since then, I’ve begun to see silence everywhere and nowhere, to relish breaks in conversations or class discussions even as my skin crawls from the discomfort, to take out my headphones as I walk so that I can better hear the silence and noise of my mind. There are so many ways to conceptualize silence and so many judgments to be made; is it good or bad? A privilege or oppression? A presence or an absence? I have come to see that it is all of these things and more, though I’ve yet to show whether or not I can articulate my feelings. “How would you now visualize-and-vocalize silence?” The visualization is not so hard, but the vocalizing, the explanation, being coherent…that’s where I often stumble and retreat to silence.

                In reexamining one of the class’ visual representations, I chose to reexamine the visualization I had previously looked at, the one that was a shot of the Haverford Nature Trail. As I am looking at the image once again while keeping in mind the keywords we were using in class, I managed to come up with some new ways to visualize my picture. When I first began to reexamine the photo, I was under the impression that the definitions of the words would clearly fit in with the visualization of the Nature Trail or they wouldn’t. In my view, permaculture did not fit well with the photo’s image, as the Nature Trail was not designed for agricultural purposes and gives off no sign of being a self-sustaining natural system. On the other hand though, I was harder time examining the photos and trying to figure out whether anthropocentric and garden fit into the visualization of the image. It could be argued by some that the Nature Trail as displayed in the photo, is not an example of an anthropocentric environment as the Nature Trail’s purpose is to highlight the natural qualities of the Haverford arboretum rather centralizing the focus on the artificial and man-made aspects of the campus. At the same time though, the Nature Trail was created with the intent of increasing human enjoyment of the campus and the arboretum.

Upon arrival in the backyard of the English house I assessed my seating options. The first option that caught my eye was a lightly colored jagged rock, which did not seem like the best option. Next I saw a stool, a lone bench, and a picnic table with one bench on either side. I sat one the lone bench without considering the grass or the stones embedded in the grass.

I didn’t really have a plan for my time here. So for a large portion of the time I sat and thought about what I should do. I felt like I needed an activity or an experiment to do so that I would be able to write my reflection thoughtfully.

So I came up with a plan: I would sit with my eyes closed. Vision seems to be the most prized of the five senses. It is the way I primarily and consciously analyze the the world around me on a daily basis. It’s the sense I used when I entered the space to analyze my sitting options. It’s my default sense. So to cut off vision would be to cut off the safety-net sense, and it would force me to analyze the world though a different lense.

I have to admit that the permanent nature of our posts do seem more scary now especially when I look at my own writings after two weeks. Three weeks of in-depth discussion of silence with different kind of silence practice make my first analysis of silence so unconvincing and simple. I guess that’s why people always say writing is an endless process. I will not try to overthrow my reactions about silence but try to organize my thoughts in a more logic and connected way.

At this point, I am still not sure about whether I get the essence of silence. Last time, I try to visualize my perception of silence from two extremes. However, silence is too hard to be categorized by any standard. It can become so complicated or so simple depending on the situations. 

To visualize the silence, I chose the picture of deep sea. I do have a reason to put my picture in front of my words. For readers, I believe a picture will give them more direct answer which represents my perception of silence. However, for me, I think my rambling words actually can reveal my understanding of silence better. The way of expressing silence has to change for different purposes, doesn’t it?

I will stick my visualization image of silence, the deep sea. The serene but mysterious deep sea still can always remind me of my visual construction of silence in mind. The state of relief and being able to be completely isolated from the outside to focused on internal self.

Today after visiting my location on campus, the wall under the trees that overlook the sunken garden, I found myself in a very thoughtful mood. At first it was a peaceful thoughtful mood and I was very relaxed and enjoyed myself in this cozy place in the trees. I looked at the sunlight shining through the leaves and listened to the rustling of them as the wind blew through them. I thought about how in my paper I had dissected the word “space” and I tried to become fully present and aware of the space I was in and noticed the feel of the air around me.  When the wind came the air blew on me colder, and when I moved into sunlight and the wind stopped, the air sat on my warmly, heated by the sun’s rays. When I got back to my room, I was compelled to draw a picture (which I didn’t have time to upload now but will try to do so next post). 

I thought yesterday's field trip was a lot of fun. I was reluctant at first to go because we had to leave so early in the morning on a Saturday, but it was beautiful out! I think my favorite part of the trip was the Mural Arts Tour. When I visited Bryn Mawr for the first time, we took a walking tour and I learned about Philly and how big it was on murals. I've been taking the Market-Frankford Line into West Philly for work for the past year and I always noticed these funny, lovey-dovey messages in mural form on the top of the buildings we pass. My friend told me that they were love letters but I didn't believe her. But in the Mural Arts bookstore, as I flipped though a little booklet detailing how these love letters came about, I couldn't stop smiling. I'd totally take a mural over flowers any day!

I think this idea of creating murals to prevent tagging and beautifying the city is a brilliant idea. It's so cool to hear about how people in the city take pride in the murals and how the people respect the artwork and take ownership of it.

I want to write a little about the postings and how I think they could work better. Today, I found myself really wanting to read what my classmates posted about in relation to the past week and to our field trip yesterday. I quickly realized how much of their voices I was missing out on because I hadn't had the time to read them all. I think by this point we've all felt drained with all of the information and emotion we've experienced. The readings and the classes have been as Michaela said "heavy." Today, I found that a lot of what I've been feeling has some interesting connections with other people in the classroom and I would love the opportunity to explore them all. I want to respond to, read and connect to everyone's stories but I feel like I have a lack of time.

So, I think is post is really asking the question of how can we use serendip postings more effectively to truly encourage dialogue? Are we doing the same thing we've talked about before of just writing our posts (for the grade) but not for the learning? I do think that a lot of it has to do with how much we're required to post a week for each class. I would like the opportunity to silence my own voice more often if it means I get the time to really pay attention to what my peers write about. 

Any thoughts?

Sometimes people talk all the time in class, while still staying silent. 

            Class discussion is about sharing thoughts and ideas, but sometimes it is also about sharing yourself.  Now that we are already three weeks into the 360 experience, it is becoming incredibly clear that more than one kind of dialogue occurs in our classrooms.  This is true of many discussion-based class settings, but the intimacy and intensity of our cluster of courses makes these different kinds of sharing even more apparent.  What I am still not sure of – but am very interested in exploring – is to what extent these two modes of discussion are intertwined, and whether one is even possible to do one without the other.  Dissecting and analyzing readings or books on their own is important (and is what I am usually referring to when I talk about class discussion). But telling personal anecdotes, and relating readings, theory, and overarching concepts to our own lived experiences gives a window into how we relate the subject matter to who we are. 

I am sitting on the outdoor bench, feeling the cool, autumn wind. I can see my shadow changes with the varying position of the sun and the cloud. For once in my life, I would like to forget about the physics model of earth orbiting around the sun, and believe that the sun is, miraculously, orbiting the world I am living in. This idea warms my heart, as I felt there id always something, someone surrounding me, protecting me, comforting me.

Many students are practicing sports on the playing ground—they are so passionately, enthusiastically in love with what they are doing, and I could not even describe how ridiculous mechanism seems to me. People are doing sports, not because they are programmed to do so. Their instinct is not a CPU, and they are not emotionless robots that mechanically do everything they are told to do. They have soul. They are a part of my sight, my world. They made the playfield full of happiness—they changed, rather than adapted to the surroundings.

They remind me of a girl in my junior middle school. She was a good friend of mine, and I always encouraged her when she got depressed. She was so easy to get depressed, because of her lpw grades, not-so-good appearance, unsatisfying popularity, and so on. She was so easy to be affected by the weather, or other people’s words. Then, when she got depressed, she spread her negative emotions to other people. At first she was sympathized, but after she created a trap of depress for herself, she was more and more isolated.