Time. time time time
I've spent the last six months filling myself with theory. About the individual and society. I am embarked on a long journey, one that was expected in terms of length but reading hundreds of pages a week has left little else in terms of writing or traveling. I'm not complaining although it sounds like it. I'm warm in San Diego. Far from Michigan but also far from my recent history and connections that would seemingly add some stability to my narrative. It feels like I'm starting over again. A new academic mountain. But I've traveled through so many interesting detours and pathways that I don't want to discount or forget. How to keep from forgetting? We ended up in Ann Arbor four years ago by accident. There is very little circulation of people or ideas from here to there. And now that I'm back in this particular intellectual gyre, I am an independent island again.
I need to figure out how to reconnect on some level.
We will be in San Diego for another 5-1/2 years. I have to decide on my research. I have tens of thousands of pages to read between now and then. There is an exam at the end of the spring quarter of eight papers over seven days. Two papers per core class. There is the summer. I am an expectant father again. June 16. There is a foreign language to learn. There are classes to teach and classes to take. And on and on.
Annie is 4.
Jessica is pregnant.
We haven't decided on a name.
We are selling our condo and buying a house with a yard.
And I am reading Foucault today, and Freud last week, and Nietzsche, and John Stuart Mills, Locke, Stuart Hall, Marx, Marcuse, Adorno and Horkheimer, Vygotsky, and Lave. My mind is sharpening in some areas at the expense of its daily competence. Car keys and wallets are far from my thoughts.
I wanted to check in. To see if I could do this again. I am doing it again.
I've spent the last six months filling myself with theory. About the individual and society. I am embarked on a long journey, one that was expected in terms of length but reading hundreds of pages a week has left little else in terms of writing or traveling. I'm not complaining although it sounds like it. I'm warm in San Diego. Far from Michigan but also far from my recent history and connections that would seemingly add some stability to my narrative. It feels like I'm starting over again. A new academic mountain. But I've traveled through so many interesting detours and pathways that I don't want to discount or forget. How to keep from forgetting? We ended up in Ann Arbor four years ago by accident. There is very little circulation of people or ideas from here to there. And now that I'm back in this particular intellectual gyre, I am an independent island again.
I need to figure out how to reconnect on some level.
We will be in San Diego for another 5-1/2 years. I have to decide on my research. I have tens of thousands of pages to read between now and then. There is an exam at the end of the spring quarter of eight papers over seven days. Two papers per core class. There is the summer. I am an expectant father again. June 16. There is a foreign language to learn. There are classes to teach and classes to take. And on and on.
Annie is 4.
Jessica is pregnant.
We haven't decided on a name.
We are selling our condo and buying a house with a yard.
And I am reading Foucault today, and Freud last week, and Nietzsche, and John Stuart Mills, Locke, Stuart Hall, Marx, Marcuse, Adorno and Horkheimer, Vygotsky, and Lave. My mind is sharpening in some areas at the expense of its daily competence. Car keys and wallets are far from my thoughts.
I wanted to check in. To see if I could do this again. I am doing it again.
