HudsonMemo2

==Habits, Neuroses , Talents    ==

1 archaic : clothing 2 a: a costume characteristic of a calling, rank, or function  b: a costume worn for horseback riding 3: manner of conducting oneself: bearing 4: bodily appearance or makeup 5: the prevailing disposition or character of a person's thoughts and feelings: mental makeup 6: a settled tendency or usual manner of behavior  7 a: a behavior pattern acquired by frequent repetition or physiologic exposure that shows itself in regularity or increased facility of performance b: an acquired mode of behavior that has become nearly or completely involuntary  c: addiction 8: characteristic mode of growth or occurrence  9 of a crystal: characteristic assemblage of forms at crystallization leading to a usual appearance: shape
 * Habits—**

My habits change, like most things. For example, I might, for a time, be in the habit of writing 400 words every morning. But that usually, always, stops at some point. It’s hard to have habits when everyday is different. Which brings me to my first habit: giving up when things get hard. It’s an endurance thing. One example could be taken from my yoga practice. There is a series of postures that, taken together, we call vinyasa. One of the final movements in the vinyasa requires that you jump forward from a push-up-like position. Towards the end of an hour and a half yoga class, after we have done hundreds of vinyasas, I stop jumping and begin crawling forward on hands and knees. This crawling is undoubtedly caused by mental tiredness; I’m sure I have the physical strength to continue jumping. It’s a lack of mental endurance.

Thinking about my habits was also hard. You have to really think and be creative. It takes introspection. I can do that. I could do that. It’s just that manner of getting started, digging in, that’s the tricky part. What do I do that’s a habit? I started with the simple stuff (practice the process, you know, start somewhere and extrapolate). But I don’t have a morning routine—sometimes. I don’t make the bed everyday—some days. I don’t have any pets to regulate my life. I don’t bite my nails. Sometimes I bite my lower lip, but that’s not anywhere near habitual. Typically I let my car get to empty and beyond before putting gas in the tank. Is that a habit? Ok ok, I got it! When I’m really listening intently, thinking really hard about something someone is telling me in the moment, I have a tendency to scowl. Just ask Ms. Barton, she knows the look I’m talking about. I have a habit of putting my hand or fingers across my mouth when I’m interacting with someone. And certainly we all know I’m a habitual interrupter—what can I say, I get excited. I have a habit of not finishing things, like sentences when I’m thinking out loud in class… Actually, I have a habit of not finishing things period. I’m one of those.

I am a creature of fleeting. Fleetingliness. Yes, that’s it. A fleeting creature. I have a hard time staying on any one point too long. It’s not out of boredom, no. It’s because I don’t have the endurance to apply myself too much. Endurance implies duration, and usually in the same space or on the same topic. I am a creature of the surface, not of the depths. It’s amazing how similar the two look in passing.

In sum, for those partial to lists, I am: 1. Fleeting 2. Surface-bound 3. Prone to giving up 4. Evolving, constantly moving 5. Cryptic 6. A self-sabotaging introspective who uses extrapolative methods of analysis 7. A rambler who lacks the endurance to do anything but ramble

Which brings me to my…

Which I might be able to write a book about soon—I’ll put it right on the shelf with all the other things I’ve started to write but never finished.
 * Neuroses—**

Using Kim’s articulation, I’ve decided that I have exhibited the features of all described disorders at one point or another. Currently it would be most accurate to describe Alison Kenner as paranoid—I love to argue that noise is actually signal. Honestly, I can’t think of many if any times when context has fallen away. I seem to always have __**that**__ in mind—which is good. It helps in the telling of stories.

I had a bit of difficulty determining my neuroses using Jakobson’s framework. I’m inclined to say that I have a problem with selection (yes, I too am laughing out loud). All I can say is that I have always favored the exception, not the rule. I like the abnormal, the mystical, the things that cannot be explained with our usual explanations---or any explanations at all. I love poking holes in theories and coming up with counterpoints. I’m trying to make room. I’m trying to make sure we don’t get locked into our descriptions and understandings of the world. I like expanding not reducing, although, admittedly, reducing is key to storytelling. I would be much happier as a storyteller, rather than a theorist. Of course, of course, storytellers are theorists in disguise. Perhaps I’ll rest when people start walking through walls again. Or at least BELIEVING that walls can be walked through.

I am a realist and a materialist, despite what Gareth might argue. I don’t know why this is under the neuroses section.

On the other hand, I certainly identify with the described combination and contexture disorder. Jakobson’s disorders are really complimentary in my case, not mutually exclusive. The above paragraph is a perfect example. I don’t want to be pinned down. I suppose I can pin something down, but I find the framing, the explanation uncomfortable. I don’t like conclusions, unless there is a sequel. In fact, I’m morally opposed to conclusions. They’re way too manmade for me… man.

A final meditation on neuroses: I struggle with matching data sets, interview questions, and field sites---what I’m going to do---with my research questions. I struggle with finding the right tools for the job. I can imagine and plan out what I’m going to do, where I’m going to go, who I’m going to talk to, what I’ll ask, **AND** I can come up with a research question, **but I can’t get the two to come together**. My data doesn’t answer the question. I want the data first, then I’ll know what I can say. In other words, I got tools but no job.

Storytelling. Moving. Connecting. Expanding. Rambling. Performing. Did I mention I'm a performer?
 * Talents—**