Success is no success at all without a n'ol banjo

At last I have some movement from the American contingent. I have one reference which is really rather flattering. Hilariously, it is not very different from what I wrote and I have to forge the signature for authenticity. It's all so corrupt. Anyway, it's almost in the bag, and then I have no more excuses.

Anyway, in the mean time, went up to the Wairapa to go and tend the vines, nearly broke my back, but I'll return to that later.

I took the guitar up which was a big hit with the girls, although I think that horses are still going to be their number one favourite. Izz composed a very special song called "A Song with no name and no words". Genius!

I just stayed up there for three days, and just as the weather was really hotting up, I decided to do a day in the vines, spraying with some noxious fluid to exterminate powdery mildew that attacks the leaves. Indeed the leaves did not look very attractive as they were covered in warts and nodules. I should have taken a picture, I will so that I can retain the information for Georgia. It took me a good day, which managed to fit in a couple of swims and a two hour lunch break.

I love this picture, it's so rock and role. It could be LA somewhere, with a faded 6 year old rockstar.

After the hazy days at Wairapa, I set off back to Wellington, only to realise that I was ready for another road trip.

So the following morning, I arose a the cracking of the sky and set of in my trusty motor. And the day started with a gently drive up Route 2, past Upper Hutt, dodging the rocks in the road that had fallen down the night before due to the excessive rainfall and subsequent landslide. It's a dreadful region for it. Stopping off for petrol, I noticed that Winifred was heating up rather quickly. Lights were flashing up on the dashboard but according to the manual these were only warning lights, and I felt my self dutifullywarned.
I decided that if I made it over the Tararua Range, I'd have a long breakfast on the other side and give Winnie a long time drink. The light was flickering on and off all the way over the mountains, and I decided not to stop immediately. Having left at 5.30 am I arrived in Eketuhuna by 8.00am. I"ve been hearing alot about Eketehuna recently, something about the fact that the towns people want to change the name to "Eketehuna - City of Excitement" or something, I"m being sarcastic of course, but I was rather drawn to the place. I stopped for a sandwich, egg and bacon, and waited for the garage to open. It didn't so I asked the Kiwi, wise old bird what I should do. It was deccided that we would move on as the wise old bird in the cafe who had been up since 2.00am making sandwiches for truckers, told me that she was expecting them soon. I decided to leave her waiting.
Hightailing out of there, I skimmed the map for good old english names such as Wimbledon and Wanstead and Wallingford and then my eye was caught by Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuaitanatahu. I had to go and visit.
Nobody lives here as afar as I could see, just a flock of sheep and a battered out old shed of a house.But it's not about the population. The story goes that there was a very reknowned and respected chief and warrior called Tamatea. He is the ancestor of the Ngati Kahungaunu people of Porangahau, and aquired many names to commemorate his prowess. Passing through the inland district of Porangahau, he encountered the Ngati Hine people and had to fight them to get through. In this battle, "Matanui", his brother was killed. In his grief he stayed in the area for some time, and would sit on the top of the hill, lamenting his brother's loss, on his Koauau ( a kind of flute). So the name indicates the hilll on which Tamatea, the chief of great physical stature and renown, played a lament on his flute to the memory of his brother.
It's always worth asking what's in a name?

But the open road is calling and there is the call for moving on. Yet again Winnie is definately showing signs of overheating and I'm return to my anxious state. The next town on the route and one I prayed had a garage, was Porangahau. So I didn't have to fight anyone to get through this road, but I was wondering whethere I would be stuck on the grassy knoll lamenting the collapse of my trusty chariot. As I was admiring the surrounding and having a smoke, with Winnie's bonnet up exposing all her business to the empty land, a trucker pulled up.

"Broken down?" he asked cheerily.

"No, I don't think so", I said trying to sound confident." Just a little over heated. Do you know of any garages around here?"

"Garages? I don't know, but there is a pub."

"Huh, well that'll do" I laughed back.

That was enough to then be hearing about his trials and tribulations. He'd left all his wallet and smokes back in town and was thus having a shitty day. I didn't think that he was really begging, but I offered him a few smokes and gratefully he went on his merry way. He promised that he would look out for me on the road.

He set off, and I felt the need to prove that nothnig was wrong. Thankfully, the key turned and ignition sparked. I followed him for a bout 100 yards and then he went off on a completely different root. I didn't see him again.

I've been rather depressed over the last few days. Life is going on all over the world and I'm not sure where I am within it, if I am. I think I wish not to be.


Indonesian security forces shot dead four teenagers walking to school in the troubled province of Papua, including a close relative of an activist who fled to Australia this week, an Indonesian human rights group says.
Indonesian authorities say just one person was shot dead and two others injured.
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Benny Giay, chairman of the human rights group ELSHAM, told The Sydney Morning Herald the students, aged between 13 and 15, were ambushed on their way to school on Friday in what appeared to be an unprovoked attack.
One of the teenagers, Moses Douw, 13, was said to be a close relative of one of the 43 refugees who landed at Cape York on Wednesday in an outrigger that featured a large sign claiming military oppression in Papua.
The attack took place at the village of Waghete, which is in a region many of the asylum seekers came from.
A fifth student was injured in the attack and a man was badly beaten, Mr Giay told the Herald.
Greens Senator Kerry Nettle called for an investigation into the shootings, which she said appeared to be a reprisal for the arrival of the asylum seekers in Australia.
"It is particularly disgusting that it appears the five people shot were school children," she told the Herald.
But Colonel Kertono Wangsadisastra said only one person was killed and another two were injured.
He said the shooting occurred during a clash between police and security forces and a group of more than 100 people outside a police station.
"The civilians got angry and started beating the police and soldiers. Then the shooting occurred," he said.
West Papua National Association spokesman Nick Chesterfield also called the shooting a reprisal attack.
"One of the young boys killed was a relative of someone with the same name, who is on Christmas Island at the moment," he said.
"They embarrassed the government, and they have finally brought international attention to the issue of West Papua."
The refugees have been sent to Christmas Island for processing by the Australian government.
Democrats Foreign Affairs spokeswoman Natasha Stott Despoja said she was disturbed by the reports.
"This latest violence highlights the ongoing human rights abuses in that region."
She said the Howard government must play a role in ensuring the safety of the asylum seekers and "those in West papua fearing for their lives".
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Ah me, how the weather changes. The sun has gone and the wind and the rain are setting in.
I've just been on the phone to California, trying to rustle them up into some action. No immediate gratification, but I did find a rather funny 'review' of Susan, by one of her students at San Francisco State, referring to how confusing she is, how crap she is at dealing with e-mails.....tell me something I don't know, but I wouldn't go so public with my dissatisfaction. Interesting to find though.

After taking this course, I now have absolutely no love of poetry anymore. First of all, Ms. Gevirtz is very confusing when she is trying to instruct the class. She is very vague in her answers to questions and you will never recieve a straight answer, even in regards to how to approach assignments. Most of the class consists of talking about the work of certain authors, however many of the readings have little to no value when it comes to poetry. They are complex and out of a class of approximately thirty students only five students did any talking. Ms. Gevirtz seemed to be under the assumption that we would understand these concepts without any guidance by the instructor. The were some instances where the instructor talked down to students if they did not know how to grasp the concepts. There was one instance where she said that we had to be treated as elementary school children, which many of us took offense to. there was also a factor involved in availability of the instructor. She does not respond well to e-mails and she will be very hard to reach if you have questions concerning the assigned reading.

It's all rather hilarious, but I can't help but feel somewhat sorry for her as I remember once being reviewed by a load of students that I was teaching Desk top publishing to, and one out spoken student complained about not learning what she wanted to learn (upstart) and my fee was reduced by half. Well, I didn't have the support of the college or anything at that time. What's very interesting is this whole inability of students to speak to the person directly. All very worrying. Tell-tales, all rather disastrous.

I'm rather glad that the weather has changed today, as I was beginning to feel abit too much like I was on holiday. Even though yesterday on the beach, I settled into a very interesting book that Natasha gave me on leaving Georgia, on Art Criticism and Curating East of the EU. It's basically a transcript of a conference in Turkey as part of their 8th Istanbul Biennial. It reminded me about other's realities, and I began to feel the ol' guilt about sunning it up too much here.

So saying all that and taking on this rather sanctimonious tone, I'd better get on with something productive. There is something that I must do.

Another busy day....first of all appointment to have coffee with bro in the morning, and a quick haircutting sess.

Now I'm all set for .....more sunshine, sea and sex. I'm still trying to write a moderate e-mail to one of my referees, but I'm really losing any will to continue with this business.

I've decided that life is sweet, life as a beach bum. Why stress it is my question?

Oh yeah, I also got a Rice Cooker on 'trade me' for 20NZ dollars. Bargain. Time to get cooking.

I'm going to make a chilli tonight.

working hard

Well, when I left you yesterday, I checked my spelling, it was dreadful and I decided to go to the beach, well four in fact.

This was the first one, I had it to myself for about half an hour and then it was beseiged by kids, dogs and what not. I made a great effort to keep my dignity and change under my bathrobe, only to find that by the time I'd done my changing and de-robed, I was brandishing a titty. Such carelessness.

When the 10 people got too overwhelming, I found this beach

Might be deemed as the same beach, it was only 2/300 metres up the road, but it didn't have peeps on it, so swim 2.

And then it got a little cloudy and I was getting hungry and looking for facitlities so I found myself at

Scorching Bay, the other 1/2 were called 'worser bay' and they were.

Scorching bay was holiday'sville and my camera was clogged up with sand.

Shutter wouldn't open, but I love the allusion to 'go faster' or rather 'just do it' (Nike)

so i did, swam and had food at the lovely 'Chocolate Fish' Cafe

They do the most lovely panini with various condiments that really make it, and then my favourite, the ice-coffee with ice-cream and whatd'ya know, a chocolate fish. If I never write about them again, I've never seen them anywhere else, but they are chocolate fish with marshmallow/creme innards. Disgusting, but they do work when frozen in an ice coffee. Izzy and Chess love them. They bring me out in pimples.

Oh., yeah I did go out nightclubbing at the one and only "Pound" and I have company.

bye for now

Doing something proactive

Like millions of people, I will try and find something I can do, when faced with something that seems too difficult to deal with.
So, I woke up with my usual optimism this morning, the New Zealand sun shining through my window. The piccie is the view from my window, not bad eh? I could watch the view all day, ships coming and going, trains coming around the mountain, cars gridlocking and brave cyclists whizzing down the Gorge.
There was an earthquake this morning at 4.00am. It was just up the road, if I'd not been asleep, I'd have felt it. It was a 4.3, rather similar to the one we had about a month ago which happened at about 9.00pm. I was busy doing nothing at my computer, when there was a huge rumbling and quaking, and I was just about to go upstairs and reprimand them for moving furniture around at this time of night. Anyway I didn't and then an hour later, it was reported that the area had just had an earthquake.
Well, no one was hurt in either of those quakes, but I can't say that it doesn't concern me, as my house and road are perilously perched on the side of the gorge, just looking for any opportunity to jump in.
It's about time for a large earthquake in New Zealand, so I'm told.
Well, I can wait.
I remember the only earthquake I experienced in San Francisco and it was about 3 weeks after I'd arrived.
I was sitting outside the mexican restaurant that I would frequent quite regularly, around the corner from the campus, quietly reading a book and munching on my quesidilla. All of a sudden, I heard what I thought was the sound of a truck approaching, somewhere close, but I couldn't see anything. Almost at the same time, my chair moved forward like someone had come up behind me and pushed it. I didn't even realise it was an earthquake.
When I think of the awful devastation in Pakistan recently and various other quakes, it must be stressed in my mind that they are tremors, but apparently, 4.3 is quite big really.

So, back to this morning. My usual routine, check my e-mails and then spend at least two hours doing something quite innane on the computer. Sometimes, it's hours of pouring through the auction goodies on New Zealand's site www.trademe.com

I shouldn't knock it, this is where I bought my car, in which I am very pleased.

But this morning, I looked through the options instigated by a search of PhD courses in Visual Culture. Interestingly, options for these courses came up in Tehran and South Africa among the usual suspects of the UK and the US.

I don't really know what I was looking for, it was just one of those random things that the internet is so good for, where something of interest and use might have arisen, but there wasn't anything. I wanted to ask, on a PhD chat site, whether it was normal practice for people to write their own references, or whether it was as feared, my punishment for having behaved very badly in the eyes of the Americans, and they were not keen to recommend me to anyone.

One thing they've always been very good at, and I've been susceptible to is the guilt and paranoia of situations borne out of ignorance. Waiting and not knowing is horrible, so trying to be proactive, in order to keep things ticking over. So important thoughts are thought, like 'how cruel is it to hoover up spiders?' 'Do they survive and can you let them run free afterwards, does the force of the vacuum rip off their legs?'

They look pretty fragile to me. I'm also contemplating going out clubing tonight, and see whether I 'll meet the love of my life.

So, I've hoovered (leaving the spiders alone) and I've done my washing, and it's a beautiful day out there. So, it would seem sensible not to waste the day, as there is a good breeze blowing, just right for drying. I think I have to do something about this encroaching over hanging tree, yeah, maybe today is the day to do some gardening.

So you can see that there is quite a lot of work that needs to be done in the garden. Today, may

be the day whent something gets done, well, at least, this weekend.

I've been thinking of growing a little herb garden in these areas, rather than the option of just a few pretty flowers.

Webster's Dictionary says about education

education
The act or process of educating; the result of educating, as determined by the knowledge skill, or discipline of character, acquired; also, the act or process of training by a prescribed or customary course of study or discipline; as, an education for the bar or the pulpit; he has finished his education. "To prepare us for complete living is the function which education has to discharge." (H. Spenser)
Synonym: Education, Instruction, Teaching, Training, Breeding.
Education, properly a drawing forth, implies not so much the communication of knowledge as the discipline of the intellect, the establishment of the principles, and the regulation of the heart. Instruction is that part of education which furnishes the mind with knowledge. Teaching is the same, being simply more familiar. It is also applied to practice; as, teaching to speak a language; teaching a dog to do tricks. Training is a department of education in which the chief element is exercise or practice for the purpose of imparting facility in any physical or mental operation. Breeding commonly relates to the manners and outward conduct.
Origin: L. Educatio; cf. F. Education.
Source: Websters Dictionary
(01 Mar 1998)

Something that is curious to me

Recently this came to my attention as an alumni of California College of the Arts, I came across this job advertisment for an Assistant Professorship in Art History and Visual Studies:-

Minimum Qualifications
Successful candidates will be expected to have completed their Ph.D. at the time of appointment. Applicants should show evidence of effective teaching or equivalent professional experience, as well as a track record of publication and/or professional activity.

For further information about this job, please see www.cca.edu/about/jobs/view/1707

Right, so let me get this straight. All the research that takes towards writing doctoral thesis, and papers for publication, /and or professional activity.....and what happens to transmitting information. Lots of extremely erudite professors, have no idea how to teach. Why? Well it's just my theory, but there seems, in my experience, a complete inability on their part, to take anyone ( who is not a 'doctor') seriously. Especially, if their practice differs to yours.

As an interesting development, I know at least one person (mentioning no names) who for quite a few years has held a post as chair of one course along with vice chair of another. She has no PhD, and publications are limited. Is she qualified for her job? No. She once said to me in confidence, that she hoped that it would not become the next qualification for jobs in the field.
Her tardiness in saying this comment, made me retaliate with my usual sarcasm, saying
"I thought you were all about education". For that I apologise, I know what she means really. After all, there is the huge thorny question about how is this all to be paid for?
My mum thinks that people who apply for teaching jobs, should be trained to teach, so here seem to be the options so far.
1) Get extremely qualified, give the right information, and be an inspirational figure head , but a potential bore in the class room and the staff room.
2) Muck in with the job at hand and slowly do your area of expertise while learning by experience in the class room, always learning from the concerns of your peers and students who offer new and interesting perspectives.
3) Learn to teach, and hope it's the right formula.

But I digress, I said that first of all, I would consider what it meant to be 'educated'.

well, here goes

For anyone who recognises themselves and considers me to be being unfair, I apologise in advance.
Certain things have come to my attention recently, certain comments and attitudes and current states of affairs that I just can't ignore anymore, so that's just it. Things have to be said.

I should just explain that as well as being a diary of what is involved in applying for this PhD, I'll also just be ranting.
At this moment, I haven't even completed my application yet. I've written some 5000 words for the proposal of my project, an investigation into the role of art in medical imaging, with the hope of curating a film festival purely concentrating on portrayal of the anatomy through film. But, and it's a big BUTT, I'm waiting for references from previous faculty that had promised they would be referees. We are at the stage, where they have asked me to write my own references, which they will then 'doctor' and send on. Well, it's been a couple of months, so I'm pissed off. So bare with me.

Here is a little something about where I've been for the last couple of years:

http://www.sites.cca.edu/sightlines/2005/eclark_bio.html

what does it mean to be 'educated'?

Right, as I'm working out how to do this blog thing, I'll just let you know in advance that this particular journey is quite complicated, I'm going to try and put in as much information that is useful to people as I possibly can, but be aware, that this is also a journey of frustrations and incredibly long moments of nothing at all.
I hope that it will all become clearer to you as the blog progresses.
First question: Why educated and not 'trained'? What does it really mean to be 'educated'?

education
The act or process of educating; the result of educating, as determined by the knowledge skill, or discipline of character, acquired; also, the act or process of training by a prescribed or customary course of study or discipline; as, an education for the bar or the pulpit; he has finished his education. "To prepare us for complete living is the function which education has to discharge." (H. Spenser)
Synonym: Education, Instruction, Teaching, Training, Breeding.
Education, properly a drawing forth, implies not so much the communication of knowledge as the discipline of the intellect, the establishment of the principles, and the regulation of the heart. Instruction is that part of education which furnishes the mind with knowledge. Teaching is the same, being simply more familiar. It is also applied to practice; as, teaching to speak a language; teaching a dog to do tricks. Training is a department of education in which the chief element is exercise or practice for the purpose of imparting facility in any physical or mental operation. Breeding commonly relates to the manners and outward conduct.
Origin: L. Educatio; cf. F. Education.
Source: Websters Dictionary
(01 Mar 1998)

Welcome to this blog site

Hi everyone, I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Emily and right now, I'm living in New Zealand. I've been in San Francisco for the last two years and am originally from the UK. I'm here to talk about education and qualifications andwhat it means to be qualified in the academic world.
Just as a quick background, I did all my significant acredited schooling in the UK, and then dropped out of a BA course in Philosophy and Sociology at Sunderland Polytechnic, as it was in those days. I forgot education and qualifications for the next 10 years and then, it began to dawn on me, that in someway it was important, and that's what I"m going to be looking at. Having just completed my Masters in Fine Art in San Francisco, Im now looking at pursuing a PhD in Fine Art, here in New Zealand, so travel with me , as this year I apply and see what happens.
For further information about what I've been up to:
http://www.sites.cca.edu/sightlines/2005/eclark_bio.html