My "Epiphany and Pain" moment

I'm not sure if this moment could be described as an epiphany, but it was definitely one of the most life changing events I have experienced. (at least with physical pain) It was my mom and step-fathers wedding anniversary, so our family loaded up the boats, kayaks and jet skis, and headed to a lake located on the Indian Reservation an hour from our ranch. My mom had not yet arrived, so Joe, my step-dad was taking people waterskiing on the boat. My turn was over, so our good family friend Ryan and I decided to take the jet skis out for a spin. Before I talk about what happened next, I am going to back up four hours.

We were sitting in the truck waiting for breakfast, and all the guys started talking about broken bones, stitches and surgeries they had gone through. Ryan asked me what I had done to my body in the past, and I thought, huh... I've been really lucky! With the competitive snowboarding, soccer, softball, rock climbing, and spending all my summers on a ranch, I was suprised that I had never once in my life had a broken bone or stitches. My step dad Joe told me I should knock on wood... but we were in the truck and I just said, "whatever, im not superstitious."

So four hours later, im jumping on my jet ski and Ryan hops on his. We were always wrecklace, with everything we ever did.  Once we got away from the beach, we started racing eachother. The jetskis were new and went over 60 miles an hour, so we would speed up really fast, then do donuts and spray eachother without actually hitting eachother. Then we did something really stupid. We played "chicken". The jet skis sped up really fast and we were heading directly for each other. At the last minute, one of us would chicken out and do the donut... at least thats what we thought would happen. Next thing I know, im in the water, laughing, not knowing that I had just colided with my friend at 50 miles and hour and had his head smashed into my face. Ryan looked over at me and turned white. He told me to stop laughing and asked if I was okay, and I said yes and asked him why... He told me to look down. Thats when I noticed I was completely surrounded by blood. Ryan took me back to the beach where my family all had very different reactions. My sisters both started crying, my mom said, "its okay honey dont worry we will get it fixed!" , my ranch manager grabbed ice really fast, and my stepdad looked pissed of that I had somehow managed to ruin the day.

The closest hospital was over an hour away, and my mom drove me there as fast as she could. The doctor was wearing cowboy boots and had a handle-bar  moustache. I was a little worried about him sewing up my face. In the end, I had completely shattered my nose, bones were less than a centemeter from my brain, my right eye brow was caved in and my right cheek bone was not so much a cheek bone anymore. I had a serious concussion and a completely smashed in face. Multiple broken, I mean shattered bones, and stitches. The only thing I thought about on the ride home was the comment about me not breaking any bones or having stitches, and then not knocking on wood because I didnt believe in superstitions. Trust me. I do now. In that one moment, I felt the worst physical pain of my life, lost the face I grew up with, and I seriously think it may have been avoided had I had some wood to knock on. Im not sure if this is an epiphany, but it surely was a moment I decided to believe in superstitions.

Since then, I have had 3 reconstructive surgeries, and 7 laser treatments for scarring.  My face has been rebuilt with metal, plastic, human cartilage, shark cartilage and coral. A hole the size of a pencil still exists on my septum. And my next surgery is scheduled for next fall. Most people would never be able to tell anything had happened unless they saw the before pictures, but it took me years to get used to seeing my "new" self in the mirror. Since then, I wouldnt say that I have become less wrecklace, but I sure as hell knock on wood, and tell people to do so too, every time I feel its necessary. Because of that one accident, I, Erin Mortenson, am superstitious, and proud of it. Epiphany? maybe not. Life changing? yes.

Furniture

I have to admit, when Dr. Sexson asked me about furniture the other morning, I had a moment of "wow its early and I need some more freaking coffee. . . stat."  Then, five seconds later, remembered I had sort of blogged about it. I really impress myself sometimes. 


So, Dr. Sexson told me to talk to Sam about furniture after class. I just read her blog, and it's funny that we were both asked the same question about furniture, because Sam and I posted the exact same link to Joyce's definition. (for the record, I posted mine first. ;) ) Last night we had a dinner party with a bunch of ladies from our English classes. Sam and I talked about the whole furniture thing for a while, and even though we posted the exact same link, we both got something completely different out of it. 


When I first read Joyce's definition of epiphany, my brain immediately shifted to Nabokovs short story Transparent Things.  On the first page, Nabokov says, "When we concentrate on a material object, whatever its situation, the very act of attention may lead to our involuntary sinking into the history of that object. Novices must learn to skim over matter if they want matter to stay at the exact same level of the moment. Transparent things, through which the past shines!" (489 Nabokov)  The reason I thought of Nabokov after reading Joyce was because Joyce seemed to be doing exactly what Nabokov did not want someone to do while looking upon an innanimate object. Rather than sinking deep into the complete history of the object, Nabokov wanted people to see things as they were in the present, for sinking too far into the objects history may somehow elude us . Even though Nabokov would have considered him a novice for doing so, Joyce epiphanised after looking deeper into the simple peice of furniture. Joyce exclaims, "This is the moment which I call epiphany. First we recognise that the object is one integral thing, then we recognise that it is an organised composite stru ' cture, a thing in fact: finally, when the relation of the parts is exquisite, when the parts are adjusted to the special point, we recognise that it is that thing which it is. Its soul, its whatness, leaps to us from the vestment of its appearance. The soul of the commonest object, the structure of which is so adjusted, seems to us radiant. The object achieves its epiphany."


Whether Nabokov was ever really talking about a pencil, or if Joyce was really saying that a couch could epiphanise, I will never really know. I spent weeks trying to understand Nabokov's short story to the best of my knowledge, and I do not see myself doing the same with Joyce. However, what I did take from Joyce's definition of an epiphany was the fact that as soon as something becomes as clear as it ever is going to be, then it has epiphanised. If I look at the pen cap that is sitting on my desk, Nabokov would not want me to think about where the cap was made, where the plastic was created, how the top was molded, how many people had taken it off then put it back on, or how many States that particular cap had been in; Nabokov would have wanted me to skim over the depth of it, and just use it for what it is. However, Joyce would want me to look at the same pen cap, appreciate its unique beauty and color, and see it for exacly what it is. Once I can see the total what-ness and see that it is what it is, then I will understand its completeness: the pen cap's soul and appearance, everything it really is... (I think the dusty pen cap just epiphanised). Once the whatness of something becomes completely clear, whether its furniture, a tree, or maybe even just a random thought, I believe it can epiphanise. After reading the two exerpts from Nabokov and Joyce, I dont know if you will agree with why I saw a correlation between the two, but I did. So yes- this is what I got from the idea of furniture and epiphanies. Sorry my mind was blank regarding it the other morning.

The beginning of the end. . .

"I will pass it time after time, allude to it, refer to it, catch a glimpse of it. It is only an item in the catalogue of Dublin's street furniture. Then all at once I see it and I know at once what it is: epiphany." -Joyce

It is bittersweet. The final blog of my college career.

For the first 4/5 years at MSU, I found myself avoiding Dr. Sexson. I'm not sure why. All my friends always commented on how much they loved his classes. But I never wanted to take anyones word for it. I just thought that I would be the exception. Before taking any of his classes, I just signed up for them. I would go to the first day, hear about how students were required to do some blog thing, and finish reading Don Quixote while preparing for his multiple presentations. Needless to say, those first days made me believe that I would be the only person at MSU to not want to take a class from Dr. Sexson. Thank goodness I finally gave those dreaded first days another chance. Last Spring, my dear friend Little Legged Lisa told me she was signed up for the Oral Traditions class and that I should take it with her. And thank goodness. After the second day of class, when Dr. Sexson remembered every students first and last name, I thought to myself that maybe he wasn't just some hard stickler of a teacher, but instead, maybe he was an exception: maybe he was a teacher who truly cared about e v e r y s i n g l e o n e of his students. I am so thankful I did not drop that class on the first day. Even though I hated speaking up in class, giving presentations, and posting anything on the internet for everyone to read, I realized that I truly enjoyed taking a class from Dr. Sexson. So much that I took two the next semester, and finally my capstone. I don't know if it was my college epiphony, but it was not until last spring, the first time I took a class I truly enjoyed (sad, but true), that I finally got my scholarly act together, realized school was not that bad, and decided it was time to finish my undergrad.

Anyways. The beginning of the end. My final Sexson blog. Something that used to deter me from taking classes, and now im sad to see it end. I have included a link below. When I googled epiphony, there was a like to what James Joyce's definition of what an epiphany is, and I thought it was pretty neat. He said everything has 3 qualities, and once you see somethings third quality, it, whatever it may be, acheives it's epiphany.

So go to this link. Or don't. Up to you.

http://theliterarylink.com/joyce.html