liminal spaces: past, present, future
"Forgotten Memories of Exploring a Liminal Space." Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Photo description: A hallway (or liminal space) leading to darkness.
between 'what was' and 'next'
Professor Shemek spoke at length during her lectures about framing. While this confused me at times, it was interesting to study the levels of separation between the author, brigata, and the reader. It almost feels like we are listening in on someone's conversation, privy to intimate details and nuances about the characters in the stories through the lens of the brigata storytellers.
The characters in the stories feel real, not just because of their relatable lives but because of the flaws they possess: just like us, they hunger, desire, lust, fail, and learn. It was truly eye-opening to see that even in 14th-century human civilizations, people were experiencing the exact same emotions, going through the same situations, and making the same mistakes as us.
There is a great deal of overlap between our real lives and the stories featured in the book because Boccaccio shows a deep commitment to portraying characters in a realistic and humanizing light. I wonder if that was Boccaccio's purpose for writing The Decameron: to show that people, once you peel away the packaging, are all fundamentally the same.
As readers, we exist in a liminal space: we see what has past, and in this dark hallway of consciousness we find the light that leads us to an imagined future.
my favorite spaces
pippins.
Formerly the Middle Earth dining hall, it is now a place for students to play games, play music, work out, and pick up packages. As for me, I hold jam sessions in the music practice rooms with my friends.
brandywine.
The official Middle Earth dining hall. Whether it's running in for a quick brunch or staying until closing hours chatting with my friends over ice cream, this is where I do most of my socializing.
study spot.
There's nothing special about this spot, other than the fact that it has shade and tables. I come here to study-- or just to sit, listen to chill music, and ultimately remind myself that I'm alive.
nature.
I would have to say that my favorite part of UCI is Aldrich Park. There are so many spots to bask in the sun, enjoy the view of the trees and observe the students scurrying to get to class.
sometimes i wonder...
what might have happened had i gone to a different school? what if i was born in a different country, to a different family, or even in a different galaxy? who would i have been then?
i am usually trapped in my head, unaware of my immediate environment, so sometimes i have to force myself to remember that i should count my blessings. after all, i live in a relatively affluent, safe city where i am generally accepted at face value, and that is a privilege reserved for very few people like me. although it was initially a shock to come to uci (because i had never seriously considered the school up until i was accepted), i find myself grateful that i ended up at a place that seems to be a great fit for me.
uci makes spaces that imitate pastoral settings, and it does a pretty good job, but it is all a facade. ultimately, the grass is green because of the sprinklers, the roads clean because of the work of the janitorial staff, and the nature carefully pruned and controlled by the gardeners. but there's nothing wrong with being a liminal space; in fact, liminal spaces are some of my favorite places to be. i love empty hallways, passageways, subways-- they are so perfectly in-between. although i am usually hurrying through them to get from point a to point b, it's nice sometimes to just walk slowly and appreciate the journey.
university, to me, is a liminal space. i'm figuring out where i come from, who i am, and where i'm going. it's ok to walk slow, to soak in the sun, and to realize that i, for a brief time, am occupying space in this vast universe.
