Earthquake!

For whatever reasons, my blogging activity has slackened as of late. For one, I guess I've been a bit more busy as of late, my to-do lists, projects, and ideas growing and overflowing to their typical status of open-ended incompletion, piled on my desk and around my room. Besides that, I also became a little burnt out with keeping such rigorous track of my life via the internet, and I guess you could say that it wasn't helping me avoid homesickness, either.

But, after a little over a week, I'm back in blogging business. In the meantime, we've experienced a minor earthquake in York, I got a snazzy new pair of shoes, my miniature garden has partially revived, and I've filled out digital stacks of applications and essays for the Calvin homebase. Now I'll be waiting anxiously to see if I get any scholarship money or summer job offers as a result. My procrastination crisis has only been worsening, but as Easter break is only a little over a week away, it's time for me to get to work on some of my projects and assignments! Easier said than done...

Yesterday, we took a trip to the Castle Museum here in York. The museum takes its title from its location on the site of the York Castle, and does not actually feature much history of castles. Instead, it tracks the history of life in modern York and England, from 1600s through the Victorian period and up to the 1950s. Much of the content of the museum consists of reconstructed rooms and workshops featuring original furniture, fabrics, tools, appliances, etc. There is even a reconstructed Victorian street made of (I believe) original storefronts and the like. What most interested me were the domestic elements of the displays, seeing how people went about their day-to-day life washing clothes, cooking, or getting around town. Likewise, it was fascinating to see the models of workshops and what they represent of a drastically different system of the division of labor. Instead of huge factories that use dozens of men to mass-produce furniture, clothing, or even sewing pins, this alternative places the highly-skilled worker in a cozy workshop, surrounded by the familiar tools needed to make by hand tires, candles, or shoes. As William Morris would emphasize, "he [the worker] had full control over his own material, tools, and time; in other words he was an artist." I suppose comments such as these reveal my own growing idealization of these past times, but I can't help speculating at what it would be like if there were more of a balance between the assembly line and these older ways of doing things by hand, with dedicated time, careful skill, and an elevated aesthetic.

Also, last Friday a group of us attended the York Youth Theatre production of Nick Lane's version of 1984. It was no Waiting for Godot, but it made for an enjoyable evening activity. I guess I love Orwell's novel to excuse whatever problems arise from a local youth production.

 

| photo: proof of my attendance last Friday night