Jessica O’Brien
Bio
Poet and visual artist whose work has been recognized for its empathic portrayals of grief and grace.
Stories (3/0)
Beauty and the Bystander
Aesthetic judgments allow us to define and categorize beauty in a world of indeterminacy and relativity. Aesthetic objects, however, first strike us unconsciously––we are fascinated by the beauty of a snowflake before we realize its delicate symmetry. While initial sensory experience may bring about a pure moment of awe, aesthetic judgment provides a standard by which we can further measure and strive toward the beautiful. Experiences of aesthetic judgment cause us to consider our unique role in the world, and bring about an even more expansive and personal ‘feeling of life’ than that obtained by sensory faculties alone: one that persists throughout time and circumstance. Regardless of truth value, the very action of judging objects provides an individual with a newly reconstructed perspective of herself. In becoming conscious of the relationship between judge and aesthetic object, we are able to regulate this boundary to an extent that is meaningful for us. By exposing and clarifying our relationship with the beautiful, aesthetic judgments provide an avenue for the growth that characterizes life.
By Jessica O’Brien9 months ago in Art
URGENT WEATHER CONCERN: DO NOT RUN STOP
The air had smelt rotten for two days. Since the light of the sun was smothered, the sky constantly evidenced an uncanny time of day, somewhere between four and five in the morning, and there was no way to see through it. At first, the smoggy pea soup was waited out, but it condensed into black slicks on the streets, greasy residue on the faces of those who dared open a window. Edgar Trofsen looked through glass to the vaguely grey color that concentrated the sky. He was in the process of transmitting a telegram, one that should concisely express the need to cancel the trains until further notice. He was irritable. They’re on a track, what should it matter, anyway? But of course he knew it was the safe thing, given such extreme conditions of visibility. The trains would not run.
By Jessica O’Brienabout a year ago in Fiction
- Top Story - March 2019
Nathan's StoryTop Story - March 2019
Nathan’s room was blue, but it isn’t anymore. We used to draw all over his walls—impossible triangles, strange faces, intricate patterns. We’d planned to cover the ceiling, too. We would sing Beatles songs and eat fruit and talk philosophy.
By Jessica O’Brien5 years ago in Humans
