May. Math. Motivation.

May kicked my butt.  Math hijacked my right brain.  Yet I am back and motivation has not left me behind bringing me back to blogging and glad to be here.

I can say jubilantly “The five week statistics class is over!”

I eventually found, daily digging into mathematical equations, left me incompetent to think of anything remotely creative.  X-values and r-squared, y(x) + 1.235= some number to chart, I leave that behind for someone else to do.  My brain is not wired for such things.

“We are not concerned with the very poor. They are unthinkable, and only to be approached by the statistician or the poet.” — E.M. Forster

Sadly, in many ways, hypocrisy is true.  The irony is social justice, which I am studying, uses powerless statistics in describing injustice to the powerless.  Community is lost to take care of the poor, the work left for a few individuals to tackle.  Abuse of many natures, mental health, employment, substance abuse and addiction are a few struggles people face daily.  Some are able to overcome and others never are able to dig out of the pit.  Perhaps we can only help one person at a time.  Laws and legislation change the framework of society but will never change apathy.

“It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.”  A Room with a View

“Spoon feeding in the long run teaches us nothing but the shape of the spoon.”

(E.M. Forest, a British writer whose many books, Room with a View, Howards End and A Passage to India, examined early 20th-century British society’s class differences and hypocrisy.  Those three novels were made into American movies along with A Diary for Timothy,  Maurice, Where Angels Fear to Tread and A Room with a View remake in 2007.)



May. Math. Motivation.

“The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible”
–Vladimir Nabokov, Russian-American novelist.

Ghost numbers
count the stars
watch them disappear
in the design of colored pencils
write the formula out
solve the mystery of time.

Suppose the creativity of your design is based on numbers and then add us all up and develop humanity.  Add a God to the formula and hell brakes loose. Ego disrupts the original plan and all along time we are born into this chaos.  Moms and dads prune the branches of desire but the warmth of the sun and the chill of evening do nothing to sever the consequences.  We are doomed.  Or maybe not.  Someone will solve the mystery of time.



May. Math. Motivation.

“Histories make men wise; poets, witty; the mathematics, subtle; natural philosophy, deep; moral, grave; logic and rhetoric, able to contend.”–Sir Francis Bacon

Sir Francis Bacon developed the scientific method but most certainly did not understand human psychology.  History, yes, except Bacon failed to see men can chose blindness over sight. Philosophy, yes, except man’s hunger can be shallow and the meatier books are left untouched.  Moral, yes, but Bacon overlooked those who understand beauty in good will.  Logical, yes, except he did not mention men choose to falter under pressure rather than argue.  A cold beer always trumps logic.

Mathematics is subtle? No wonder the psychology of man continues to elude.  Man remains abstract, archaic, elusive.  If there is order in math why is there chaos in the heart and soul of man?

May. Math. Motivation.

No heart is warmer than in a snowstorm.  Jeanne

Where is the logic?

“The ‘Muse” is not an artistic mystery but a mathematical equation. The gift are those ideas you think of as your drift to sleep. The giver is that one you think of when you first awake.” –Roman Payne, novelist, poet and adventurer

A blank mind retreats -exhaustion
cold weather resides
you shiver and shake
take refuge under quilted warmth
drift to sleep
in catatonic mode
witness the Muse
at the end of the bed
melting the icy neurons.

At first light
the heart shines hotter
than any sun.

May. Math. Motivation.

“My first feeling was that there was no way to continue.  Writing isn’t like math; in math, two plus two always equals four no matter what your mood is like.  With writing, the way you feel changes everything.”  –Stephenie Meyer Midnight Sun of Twilight Series

Moody.  I suppose writers can be moody.  Often us creative types see math as cold and distant but underneath the mathematician lies rich emotion. 

I like to share this story about a Physical Theorist I worked for at the University of Michigan-Ann Arbor.  Every day he came to work disheveled and jovial leaving me intrigued by the mathematical formulas on the blackboard in his classroom.  One morning he got off the elevator, clothes pressed and smelling like Dior Sauvage, his hair tamed by a comb.  His smile planted in his heart and a serious side emerged.  I wondered why the change, noticing a few hours later, a lady exiting his office.  A girl is mighty  to tame the wildest beast.

Life is inevitable. Math is an elective.  Jeanne


May. Math. Motivation.

“Math is not my subject of choice but a subject I am subject to.” –Jeanne

In order to get through the month of May I need to find motivation, motivation to do statistic’s homework.

“The difference between the poet and the mathematician is that the poet tries to get his head into the heavens while the mathematician tries to get the heavens into his head.”
–G.K. Chesterton

True.  I agree.  I understand I will be residing between two worlds.   Perhaps my reward, by the end of May, is the understanding of statistics. Perhaps.  Jeanne