Quandary...what defines appreciation?

As some of you know, and many of you don't, my roommates and I have been on a large Gilmore Girls kick. And when I say "Gilmore Girls kick," I really mean "We've gone through the entire series in about a month and a half." Yes, ridiculous. Pathetic, even. But when you're about as boring as the three of us are, it tends to go that way.

And so it would just make sense that watching the series, it would rub off on me and create questions in my mind, as does a good television show does.

One of the questions recently popped into my brain while just having it on in the background as I cooked supper. As fellow Gilmore Girls fans would know, Rory is arguably one of the smartest and most precocious characters ever written. Part of that brilliance is the knowledge of unusual and quite large words.
In addition to her unusual knowledge of words in the English language (and French and Latin as we later find out), is the series' use of references. Anything from the Barefoot Contessa, to journalism names like Bob Woodward and Christian Amanpour, to obscure band and television/film references. Some of them I know. Most of them I don't. But it peaks my curiousity, and often times I find myself googling certain references just to understand the meaning. But the brilliance of the writing in the show is that you don't have to know all the references to understand what they're saying.

But like I said, watching this show has peaked several questions I still have yet to answer, although I have a sense some of them will never be answered. For today, I will just leave you with the question most prevelant in my mind at the moment.

Does it take an artist to truly appreciate the art? or really, simply put, "Does it really take one to know one?" as the saying goes.
I shall further detail my quandary with bits of examples.
As aforementioned, Rory is the journalist and English "freak." Her knowledge of words and books is astounding. So it just makes sense that as the series goes on, episode after episode there are references to famous journalists, both past and present, to journalism terms, and of course the use of exemplary words. As a fellow journalist, my classes have taught me such words and references in the journalism world, and so I feel as if I connect and can appreciate the words and the references.
Now, to the average person, the knowledge and use of such words and references might go unnoticed. Or even if they are acknowledged, they are at most interpreted in a horizontal manner, not being able to understand its full depth.

The same goes for me as a dancer. I watch other routines, ranging anywhere from a contemporary piece by Travis Wall or Mia Michaels to a classical ballet piece choreographed centuries ago when Tchaikovsky still gave the breath and life of music to ballet. When I watch other routines, I think I am able to appreciate it more and understand it on a deeper level than others, since I know the difficulty of work and the time and effort strained into it. As an artist, a choreographer, I watch other pieces with what I think of as a greater appreciation, taking into account all the things good choreographers do. While the average viewer might just say "I think that was amazing," I could probably take that statement and divulge why.

Not to say I am a head above the rest. In the matters of science or mathematics, if someone were to create a hypothesis or theorum, then create the data and evidence to back it up, I wouldn't understand in the least. All I would do is look at the numbers and cringe. (As my journalism professor would say, "When we see numbers, our eyes have a tendency to gloss over.") I would stand there dumbfounded. Probably amazed at what I was looking at, but still completely clueless as to its actual extend and importance.

Now, this doesn't go without its own controversy.
After I posted this question on twitter, a friend of mine replied:
"No. Otherwise there would be very few would would appreciate greatness."
So is that true, as well? If we only appreciate what we know and understand, there really wouldn't be much appreciation in this world, would there?


So what do you think?
Is appreciation only for the knowledgable? Does it really take one to know one?
Or can appreciation for art, or science/mathematics, for that matter, be held by those with less or no knowledge at all?

OR, can we all appreciate work, but we appreciate it at different levels?

So seriously, what do you think?
Quandary.

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White fluffy stuff fluttering from the sky.

Once upon a time, I wrote a similar blog about snow. But tonight's a new night.

Tonight was the first snow of the season. Mia and I were winding down for the evening, fiddling with our ipods, as do all twenty-something year olds.. All the sudden, she says "facebook says it's snowing!" and we turn around out the window to see the snow starting.

I said, "Let's go outside!" and she was right with me. We immediately turned off the TV, threw on shoes, and rushed out the door.

As we stepped outside, the snow was lightly falling. But it didn't matter. We ran outside and started to squeal (or rather, *I* started to squeal) "IT'S SNOWING!" with a dumb grin on my face, like the world had handed me a lifetime of chocolate. I stood there in the parking lot with Mia, just staring at the sky with white puffs flying into my face. I smiled like I wouldn't be able to smile again ever in my life.

It was that childlike excitement that falls upon me every year. Every year I step outside, screaming, hugging, jumping, yelling, "IT'S SNOWING!" or simply just the word "Snow!"

After playing around for several minutes, then realizing just how cold it was, Mia and I decided to bundle up and take a walk around the neighborhood.

After coats were found and scarves were wrapped and boots thrown on, we ran outside to begin what turned out to be over an hour and a half of walking around the area. It was beautiful. There really is no other way to describe it. What God gives us every year is simply undeniably beautiful.

We wandered around, listening to the sounds of the wind whistling...although more to the sounds of our squeals of excitement and our laughter. We nearly froze our extremities off, but an hour and half didn't seem nearly enough time.

Snow. The word is so beautiful in itself. The white begins in flakes, and before you know it (and before we knew it tonight), the ground was covered in white, and as we gazed down the street, it was a peaceful calm as the snow fell down.

Now we're back, cozied up on the couch with warm fuzzy blankets, sweats, and hot cocoa.

Nothing could seem more perfect.

It's here. Snow. Christmas.....it's here. :-)

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