Showing posts with label format. Show all posts
Showing posts with label format. Show all posts

Thursday, May 3, 2018

Embroidered cloths and dream treading.

"Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."


Y.B. Yeats.

It is easy to lose sight of what is capital in all of this.

CARE.

FELLOWSHIP.

Yes, I said "fellow ship."

We are in this together.

For the duration.




A clock ticks.

Embroidered cloths.

It is easy to suit and to be tied.

Who is the suit for?

Whose are those ties?

Fancy dress, dressing up ridicule, naked embarrassment.

It is easy to make anti-dress-code statements.

It is easy to make others feel ill-at-ease.

Tread softly on my dreams.

A penny drops.

Listen, be attentive to others.

Fellow ship.

I love working with Marcin, we have been working together for nigh on six years.

We were working in a class for teachers together a few months back and we were late.

I asked them not to speak but individually to write down how they felt, what they thought about our late arrival.

I then asked them to note down their first impressions of Marcin, myself and a Columbian student teacher without speaking to us or asking us any questions.

It is fascinating how much information they were able to glean from the situation, our appearance.

Marcin was dressed in a formal jacket.

I wasn't.

Marcin was considered "serious".

They didn't really say how they considered me...

Embroidered cloths.

It was a beautifully structured, carefully researched presentation.

It's cloth was woven with finely referenced citations.

It concerned and had impact.

It did what it said on the box.

One character jumped out at me.


Embroidered cloths.

"Did you see his Complexity presentation for the conference in Corsica?" 

I hear them discussing in one of the autoethnography preparation sessions.

"It had 74 slides...that was crazy!!!"

I remember my discussions with my colleagues.

"OK, I'll cut those slides, you are right it is a bit too much."

I was quite proud with having cut it down to 74 slides.

They sort of looked at each other, resigned, and sighed.

No doubt they felt fortunate that I would be on my own in this.

They trusted me enough to accept their names as authors on the first slide.

I am thankful for their trust.

Many haven't gone so far as to trust me.

I hear them discussing in one of the autoethnography preparation sessions.

No doubt they were concerned about what crazyness I would come up with for the next presentation.

I hear their laughter.

I loved their laughter.

We are in this together, with our differences, with our foibles.

What joy to feel freely accepted!

What joy not to feel straight-jacketed!


Embroidered cloths.

Marcin came up with a structure that he liked.

I was only too happy to let him take the lead in this.

He is a proper researcher.

I am...well...I am me.

I like working with constraints.

I learnt this late in life.

Constraints offer space for play.
Constraints offer space for creativity.

I was only too happy to do a proper, timed, hierarchical, scripted presentation.



I felt almost like a grown up.


Dream treading....

Well, I only suggested the working title, the idea that it might be a collaborative autoethnography, that it should bring us together, Teresa, Claude, Marcin and myself in Krakow, Christine in Clermont.

CLAVIER WTF?

I had considerable joy submitting our working title to the research laboratory in my request for funding.

I was only slightly miffed when the title was quietly dropped somewhere along the way.

Between November and April, we worked on our individual narratives, in our individual ways.

We worked together on trying to make sense of our common and individual experiences with CLAVIER.

We grew familiar with our ways of meaning.

Little by little, prompted by an idea of Teresa which nobody really understood or could find a good reason to reject, we started working on a presentation quite unlike anything that any of us were familiar with.

What struck me was the fun, the trust, the creativity of the venture.

Depending on who was available at a given moment, the "performance" would emerge, shaped by each and all of us.

Working with just twenty minutes, I found that they only way to express complexity, emergence, nurtured networks, student led activity et al was with a video form.

As an exercise it was immensely stimulating. 3 minutes, no more than 3 minutes.

Once in Krakow, we had a padlet, slides, a script, stage directions but no real idea of how it might play out as we had never had time to rehearse.

We had never been in the same physical space together at the same time.

Marcin and I met online while I and Claude were eating and drinking in a restaurant to prepare for the presentation on "Sustainability".  There is no "sustainability" without food or drink.






We planned for a "dress rehearsal" of "Lived experience of connected practice."  the day before the "performance".

Teresa was stuck in a shower.

We were going to improvise with Lukasz taking the role of Teresa.

Then I found Teresa out of the shower.



We were saved.

We were able to rehearse "Lived experience of connected practice."

This was indeed lived experience of connected practice.

Dream treading 

The sustainability presentation had gone to plan, now we were sort of ready for the "performance".

We positioned ourselves around the room.

I felt in my element with space to roam.

I felt in my element with possibilities to improvise, to play with the situation.

Teresa moved to take control of the tech.

I remember feeling relieved that she was there.

It was scripted.

I remember feeling really relieved that she was there.

Marcin felt more at ease seated near the front.

I suggested he move towards the middle.

Marcin felt more at ease seated near the front.

Claude was comfortable somewhere near the middle.

I remember feeling in my element at the back, able to observe, to sit with the audience.

I remember Teresa putting her arms on my shoulders to quieten me to let the others speak.

I shall remember the joy of feeling part of something.

Something emerged between us.

Something is not the word.

There was a sense of energy, a space, a connection between us.

I have known this in relationships.

I have known this in churches.

I have known this in theatres.

I have known this in nature.

A sense...of being a part...together and that there is something which we have which connects us.

In aikido they talk of KI.


“While we can learn or study techniques for almost anything we might want to accomplish, real understanding is not the mere accumulation of knowledge. Understanding cannot be realized by listening or reading about the realization of others. It must be achieved firsthand via substantive, direct perception in the moment.” 
― H.E. DaveyJapanese Yoga: The Way of Dynamic Meditation



"But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."


Y.B. Yeats.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Skin in the game.





“If you're trapped in the dream of the Other, you're fucked.”― Gilles Deleuze 

There were  25,000 results. 
I read them all. 
I made a synthesis. 
I compiled the bibliography. 
It would be my life.
It would be my life's work.
It would be my life.
My life.
My life.
My life.
My life.
26,000 results.
59,000 results. 


It is time for taking stock.

[I instantly feel alienated by the expression "taking stock". We are forever confronted by fucking commerce. The small print 
on the long contract. I write my age then delete it. Numbers are for ever an annoyance.]




I find myself here...


I find myself inviting Deleuze, Arendt...he tales off.


He rather wishes that they would go away.


He notes how they, he are kept under tabs...

He sees himself moving from here to preview. 


He reviews his path.


He thinks about deleting the photo. 


He reasons that he will leave a blank space.


He wonders how best to represent space.


He finds a riddle, written by a student, on a black board. 


He settles for that.





“Writing has nothing to do with meaning. It has to do with landsurveying and cartography, including the mapping of countries yet to come.” 
― Gilles Deleuze



I find myself grouping together lines of reflection...


I barely glimpse them, I barely read them. 


I rush on by.

It is not the words that count it is the movement...



...an impulsion beyond.

At times I come back and I think: "What the fuck?"


At times I know why the answer is the fucking question.


“According to Beckett's or Kafka's law, there is immobility beyond movement: beyond standing up, there is sitting down, and beyond sitting down, lying down, beyond which one finally dissipates.” 
― Gilles DeleuzeFrancis Bacon: The Logic of Sensation


What explains this impulsion? 

This colour?

They appear little by little here, in interaction, dialogue with people, images, videos, quotes, tweets, scribbles, blog posts, clicks. 

They order themselves here for orderly? consideration in a determined flow.


It is the haphazard which reveals meaning.


Old words pop up as chorus.


Those deleted rest as meaningful as those that remain.

Those deleted rest as meaningful as those that remain.







Will they remain in peace?

To be present. 


Here.



“This is how it should be done: lodge yourself on a stratum, experiment with the opportunities it offers, find an advantageous place on it, find potential movements of deterritorialization, possible lines of flight, experience them, produce flow conjunctions here and there, try out continuums of intensities segment by segment, have a small plot of new land at all times.” 
― Gilles Deleuze



Takingstock.


I steal my words.




How is it I know that I am worn by the suit and not the other way round?



I am made anxious keeping up its appearance.

I walk down the street.
I am anonymous.
I belong.

I feel a longing, a dull longing.

Branded, a superior cut, I have a fine sheen.

I am made for measure.

Take a knife, slash, let me bleed.

Be careful not to stain, to bruise my flesh.

Skinned, tenderised, jointed.

Painlessly killed.

I cook, a Sunday roast. 







ROLL, ROLE, ROLLS, 

BOXES, BOOKS,BORDERS, WALL.

CURTSIES,COUNTRIES, COFFINS, CALL.


DOLLARS DOLLARS DOLLARS.














Elite parlour games.




Anyone for tennis?

Scrabble

What are you?

The forgotten.

R. E. S. P. E. C. T.













OBJECTS. SUBJECTS.


“Language is not made to be believed but to be obeyed, and to compel obedience newspapers, news, proceed by redundancy, in that they tell us what we ‘must’ think, retain, expect, etc. language is neither informational nor communicational. It is not the communication of information but something quite different: the transmission of order-words, either from one statement to another or within each statement, insofar as each statement accomplishes an act and the act is accomplished in the statement” 









Academic form 


The evils of words ...

Finds new impulsion here...






Netscape.


I had better get a quote in here from (on?) Deleuze and Guattari:

"The space of nomad thought is qualitatively different from State space. Air against earth. State space is ‘striated’, or gridded. Movement in it is confined as by gravity to a horizontal plane, and limited by the order of that plane to preset paths between fixed and identifiable points. Nomad 
space is ‘smooth’, or open-ended. One can rise up at any point and move to any other. Its mode of distribution is the nomos: arraying oneself in an open space (hold the street), as opposed to the logos of entrenching oneself in a closed space (hold the fort). (Massumi, 1988, p. xiii)"

Quoted by Sian Bayne.




“The self is only a threshold, a door, a becoming between two multiplicities” 

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

This is freedom.



It started with resistance, resistance:

to Being mediated,
to being Mediated by this blog,
to being mediated by these Digits...

I was touch typing, a linear stream of thought made text. 

I was beginning to feel prisoner.

My matricule: @sensor63

Lines, stay between the invisible lines.

A bird on a wire tweets.

I am dressed in black font, I feel momentary skittishness while italicised, importance while underlined or emboldened.

Is this writing freely?

Is freedom written?

There are times that it feels like freedom...

Words flow easily off my finger tips.

At the outset, I was given a choice of uniform.

Choice of layout
Choice of format, 
Choice of name of blog
Choice of name of post
Choice of font.
Choice of word.
Choice of picture.

That felt like freedom.

And yes it gave me freedom. 

It gave me freedom to stretch out as far as the dialogue box would allow me. 

I am living in another's space. 

Am I a tenant?
Am I a prisoner
Am I a ghost-writer for Google?


Out of the cell, I fled to feel the feel of paper, to feel the scribble of pen, to feel the freedom of scratching up, down, and around, and diagonally, and changing implement, and scribbling, and ripping up the sheet to hear the tear, and crunching up the paper to express my disgust, and throwing the rolled up, beaten up expression of my being into the trash.

feeling trash, feeling trash, feeling trash, feeling...



And then I was engrossed in the paper: journeying out into the depths of the hills to feel the sun on my back, the cold of the breeze, the bodily orientation of my imagination released into an open. 

This felt like freedom.
This felt like freedom.
This felt like freedom.

I gave it a frame, an ironic frame.

It was freedom in irony.

And its irony is here.

It is here in my Shadow Boxing.

Here it is my shadow boxed.

And then it was there in my mind:

to reform it to release it
to revoice it to bring me back to breath...
to bring it back to breath.













And I breathed it slowly and I felt the click and the double click and heard the dog and the traffic which passed behind and then it came back to me here to reinvigorate my anger, my anger to be only touching you by type, touching you by type, type, type.





And I am back, and this is it.

This is it.

Freedom is a word.

A four letter word.

No freedom is wider than a word.

It has panache.
It has a breath
It has a position
It has no meaning without an act

This is an act.

I am @sensor63

Chop wood, carry water.

On reading Kate Bowles', post entitled "Chop wood, carry water", I revisit 'This is freedom' here. 

Kate's work and this act appears appropriate as punctuation to dystopia.

We must forever retrace our steps, until we are no more able, to make meaning.

"bell hooks: Whereas my mother in Kentucky always used to say, “Life is not promised,” in the sense that boredom is a luxury in this world. Where life is always fleeting, each moment has to be seized. For us children, that was a lesson in imagination, because she was always urging us to think of the imagination as that which allows you to crack through that space of ennui and get back going."

I am bored with algorithm, fake news and those who fakely preside, fake money, surveillance et al.

Quel ennui!

To hell with them.

Here, a distinct moment captured, traffic and the dog barking in the background, I seize my breath and muster whimsy. 

I am not alone, struggling here, as ever with this media, these boxes, these blinking cursors.

It is, we are, a marked moment of loss.

Recorded voice marks time.

Voice is not just to speak, it is to reveal, if we let it.

I never found the cassette with my father's voice.

I can hear snatches in my mind.

I can see it in the box in the attic.

I feel melancholy at being apart from those that I love, from those who might discover meaning here.


"The work in network is the water lifting. It’s the labour that the algorithm can’t appropriate, that needs our time and vulnerability to loss. And to restore this vision of the networked self having the capacity to labour cooperatively and effectively, to bring something to the other situation, we first need to imagine other refusals: of the email, of the browsing, of the personal branding, of the suggested-for-you.
There’s still a well. We just need to learn how to make time for it in our lives."
I think of what pleasure networking online has brought me. 
Fellowship, friendship, fun, learning.
May we forever remain grounded in what really counts.
Time passes.
What did we do for our souls?
What did we do for our souls?

"Whatever satisfies the soul is truth." 
Walt Whitman.
We are engaged in drive.
We have no reverse gear.
Despite what technology might tell us...
What did we do for our souls?
Is there any truth in news?
There may be truth in art.

"Art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth."
Pablo Picasso
Time passes.
What did we do for our souls?






Thursday, February 26, 2015

Submission.


'Submission' was the word which came to my mind on reading Frances Bell's and Jenny Mackness's article on Rhizo 14 entitled "Rhizo14: A Rhizomatic Learning cMOOC in Sunlight and Shade."

It is not as if I am unfamiliar with academic writing, I have myself been known to dabble in it. It is just when talking about "Rhizo 14" it seemed to me a strangely incongruous lense.  I can not speak for anybody else.

Even before reading the article, I was mesmerised by the format of the artefact: the tidy text, the journal referencing, the journal logo, the scientific enrobing of the reflection, the distancing language used, the authors' names at the top of the page with their titles in italics, the lack of animations, movement, sound...

Objective reached: objectivity it conjured.

It reminded me of seeing fellow scruffy students trussed up in academic robes for graduation day holding a scroll for the photos.

All those mis-spent hours swigging bottled German lager in a Manchester pub and scoffing pork-scratching. Such life was with one fell click wiped from the record.

No, there is no doubt about it, this was an 'official face' of Rhizo 14.

The semiotics shrieked authority.

We can be serious now.



Submission, I thought, bondage, I imagined, an expression of power, I noted.

I thought of my own feelings concerning academic writing.

I remembered the time spent attempting to fit my reflection to a journal's requirements.

I thought of ticking boxes:

Times Roman ? done
Number of words? counted
References? checked.
Deadline? noted

I paused for a moment.

I went off to New York, I came back.

I definitely want to write about this.

I think back to Rhizo 14, to what extent could such an object illustrate my personal experience, I wondered?

[Of course, I know, I am being silly, that is not its point. I am subsumed in the data.]

I have decided that the answer to this question, as far as I am concerned,  is that it can not.

I look back at blog posts that I have written over the past year, many have been concerned with the question of framing life.

I have struggled with kaleidoscopic complexity, chaos, fragmentation of identity, the limits of language.

How might we fairly represent the messiness of learning?

In whose interests do we reduce such mess into order?

I remember looking up at distant galaxies in a planetarium in New York.

There are words of the commentary which struck a chord for me.



"Wherever you may be in the universe, you will have the impression that you are at the centre of it."

I think of the process of research of dealing with qualitative data.

I think of our determination to seek for legible patterns, to find our bearings in this mess.

I think of our imagined communities, our imagined membership to social groups.

We call out in the wilderness:

"Please give me a sign." "Please give me a form, a place, in a scheme of things."

I return to reading the article.

"We compare the surface view of the MOOC that has been presented in a range of open blog posts and articles with the view from beneath the surface that we have found in data we have collected (some anonymously)"

I wonder what might be my 'surface view' and my 'beneath the surface view' of Rhizo 14.

Of course, being me, I have the impression that I am at the centre of my universe.

I wonder how useful an outside view of my behaviour in and around Rhizo 14 would be to me and my learning?

I hesitate a moment.

In whose interests do we reduce this mess to order?

I return to reading the article.

"Our analysis reveals a positive, even transformative, experience for many participants on the one hand, but some more negative experiences and outcomes for other participants."

I would suspect  that a mixture of positive and negative experiences is par for the course of life.

I return to reading the article.

We are presented with two sides of participant experiences, we have conveniently, 'a dark' and 'a light side' of Rhizo 14:

"There were plenty of learning moments and evidence of joy and creativity, but we also experienced and observed some tensions, clashes and painful interactions, where participants seemed to expect different things from the course and were sometimes disappointed by the actions and behaviours of other participants."

On reading this, it appears that the positive and negative our equally weighted, until we look at the space given to the negative experiences in the quote:

"There were plenty of learning moments and evidence of joy and creativity, but we also experienced and observed some tensions, clashes and painful interactions, where participants seemed to expect different things from the course and were sometimes disappointed by the actions and behaviours of other participants."

Does the above text represent the time spent by participants in joyful creation and the time spent in painful interaction?

Does the text represent the level of pain and tension which resulted from joyful creation?

Pff, whatever, this is being 'objective'. I am being subjective.

I have no answers.

I return to reading the article.

"We therefore initiated a carefully thought through but emergent research process and collected data that, though limited to participants we could find and engage, shows a more complex picture of Rhizo14 than the view presented publicly to date." 

I am not at all sure that 'scientific article' format illustrates the nature of complexity adequately, certainly not mine.

I have presented my view publicly over a series of blog posts of which this is one.

A phrase from the article containing the terms: "dominant and alternative views" stops me in my tracks, my curiosity is aroused.

What views are labelled 'dominant' and what views are labelled 'alternative'?

I bate my breath.

I return to reading the article.

I learn that Dave Cormier in setting up 'pedagogical experimentation' is experimenting on me.

This idea sends shivers down my spine...

"begin to consider the ethical implications of experimenting on MOOC learners"

OMG! Dave Cormier 'experimenting' on me? I find this mildly hilarious.

I return to reading the article.

 "We acknowledge the danger of reduced objectivity and have taken measures to counteract it." 

Hmm, I am suddenly overrun by images of dangerous temptation and painful flagellation, 'Get thee back Satan.'

Maybe we should be looking to 'enhance subjectivity' I write, not really knowing what that might mean.

I shall look at it later.

I return to reading the article.

I am struck by colour.


I am struck by the use of the word 'organic'.

I suddenly have images of a corpse on an African savannah. There is a whole series of creatures involved in this ecosystem moment: hunters, carrion birds, hyenas, bacteria, BBC wildlife cameramen, David Attenborough.

I suppose this is how I feel about Rhizo 14, there is a swirling, mutating complexity of interaction, of creatures operating at different levels, looking for different things in their ecological niche.

I suddenly feel like I am looking at myself, my action here through the eyes of another species.

“It seems to me that the natural world is the greatest source of excitement; the greatest source of visual beauty; the greatest source of intellectual interest. It is the greatest source of so much in life that makes life worth living.” 

― David Attenborough


Suddenly, I find myself quoting a BBC naturalist.  

I think of dominant species, big cats ripping the flesh off antelopes. 

Are they aware of their savagery?

I return to reading the article.

"Given that many MOOCs, particularly cMOOCs, could be regarded as pedagogical experiments, i.e. trying out new approaches on participants, then ethical behaviours in relation to teaching and learning within MOOCs and consideration of ethics in MOOC related research must be part of a rigorous methodological and theoretical approach. With academic freedom comes responsibility (Marshall, 2014). This responsibility relates to both the collection of data from learners (Prinsloo & Slade, 2014) and the tension between innovation/ experimentation and a basic teaching and research principle of “do no harm.” The vulnerability of learners must be recognized by both teachers and researchers (Markham & Buchanan, 2012; Barnett, 2007)." 

Hmm, does nature require a 'rigorous methodological and theoretical approach'?

Do lions bother themselves with ethics?

In whose interests do we reduce this mess to order?

I am intrigued at my vulnerability as a learner.

Who are learners? Who are teachers? Who are researchers? Who are writers? Who am I?

Do lions bother themselves with ethics?

I return to reading the article.

"With respect to learner experiences, Gašević et al. (2014) have highlighted the importance of socialisation in MOOCs."

I am reassured. Maybe we can admit to the pork-scratchings with 'academic freedom'.

"course facilitators should design courses that support a diversity of learners"

Well, you never know who may turn up on the savannah.

A diversity of learners may well lead to tensions and antelope ripping.

I am beginning to think that 'The community as curriculum' is a hopeless simplification of rhizomatic learning.

It is a mess with lions, hyenas, bacteria, and all  and sundry running around in an open ecosystem.

I exaggerate here to make a point.

I return to reading the article.

"Downes (2007) was clear about the difference between groups and networks and why the principles of connectivism were the principles of learning in networks. More recently, in a comment on Tony Bates’ blog, Stephen Downes has written: “the two play different roles: the communities embed knowledge and standardize practice, while the MOOCs disrupt existing patterns of thinking and introduce people to new connections and new ideas” 

I have the impression here that we are at the nub of the tension found in Rhizo 14, emerging communities, confronting pre-existing communities, with open networked disruption to existing patterns of thinking.

I shall think more about that. Whose community do I belong in?

Don't answer that.

Differing species look for different attractors and group in different ways at different times.

I suspect that the fixed format of graphic representation of 'community' grouping does not illustrate the complex dynamic movement of individuals within a ever moving social universe.

I make a note here of the importance to find a dynamic way to illustrate this.

I have the impression that it is rather like looking at stuffed animals or standing on the savannah with David Attenborough.


"If MOOCs are thought of as communities, how do educators position themselves in these learning environments?"

No, I react against this.

MOOCs may but most probably should not be thought of as 'communities' and certainly not as a single 'community.'

"But Ross et al. (2014) point out that what it means to teach and learn is as much a mystery as it ever was, never mind in a MOOC and measuring success in a MOOC remains an elusive endeavour. “There is more complexity and variation in the notion of the teacher than MOOC debates and literature have yet engaged with” 

This is interesting. Isn't this just the problem of dominant views of conducting research into 'learning'?  Can the 'literature' hope to reflect the complexity? Is that its role? Or is the literature there to stuff the learning?

In whose interests do we reduce this mess to order?

I reflect on Rhizo 14.

I consider myself fortunate to have accepted an invitation to converse about the nature of learning and knowledge.

I fail to see how much soul searching anyone should do when they set out to:

 “invite a bunch of people to a conversation about my work to see if they could help me make it better” 

I have been to many parties which turned out to be pretty boring but I wouldn't suggest that the party-convenor was responsible.

I am absolutely convinced that Dave Cormier's invitation was only seen by and very small number of people who chose to turn up.

Some stayed around, some danced, some had deep meaningful conversations into the early hours, some were interested in doing studies on the party, others buzzed off to other priorities after a quick drink.

Some got into arguments about dress-code...

I shall remember to think of writing about some Manchester student parties.

It will be entitled 'Student parties: In Sunlight and Shade."  (sorry this is in jest, please forgive me)

I return to the article.

"The Rhizo14 MOOC was an experiment, an experiment which for some participants was very successful."

No it wasn't.

It was a bunch of people who were invited to a party to converse about Rhizomatic Learning.

"It was innovative and challenged hierarchical and traditional ways of teaching and learning."

No it wasn't.

It was a bunch of interesting people who got together, enriched my life and my conversation and enabled me to learn absolutely naturally, like how I do all the time...even at parties.

"There is a pedagogy of risk associated with treating teaching as an experiment."

Pfff.

Having a conversation with a bunch of people is hardly a 'pedagogy of risk' or 'teaching as an experiment."

It's a.... conversation.

I am reassured that researchers, on my behalf, will be investigating further this 'pedagogy of risk'.

Phew.

I am only too aware of the peril that I have run over the past year in accepting an invitation to a... conversation.

"At this stage in our research, we can identify that adult learners, already immersed in formal education systems, can benefit from “doing” Rhizomatic Learning, forming community, and creating curriculum in a community setting."

At this stage in my reflection, I can identify that people are interested in different stuff, those immersed in formal education systems may well benefit from learning freely in the company of others that they may identify with, those feeling themselves labby-rats can benefit from doing research for themselves and sharing evidence of the complexity of their learning with others different from them in the form and format that seems appropriate to them.

Their voices, however will probably sadly not be heard by those who concentrate exclusively on   submissions to  academic journals.

I shall defend my singularity.

Read a year's production of blogs here should you dare.

I can speak for noone else.

I am not sure if I be man or beast.

I am surely not an antelope.

Thank you Dave Cormier.

Thank you Frances Bell.

Thank you Jenny Mackness.

I enjoy your company.

Thank you all.

You make for a great party.

A pork-scratching anyone?

Sorry for being a bit scruffy, I hate formal wear.