Please comment on my posts before beginning this weeks work...
The rest of your work is in the assignment sheet
I was wildly happy last night reading your “Narrative Stories” It was some of the best writing I have seen all year—honest, well-structured, reflective and full of deep and thoughtful meaning. Thank you. Hopefully, you all had the chance to read each other’s posts and comment. I know it is NOT a quick and easy task, but I trust it was rewarding to share in such an invested writing community.
On a harder note, we all heard the disappointing news today that we will be online until the end of the school year. I can only imagine how this feels for you, but in Latin: “id est quod id est” It is what it is… What we do with this “it” is what defines and what will be our legacy. Create a positive way forward and live without regrets, even when everything seems painfully impossible to imagine.
And now what is asked...
Read my posts each day this week and comment. I don’t ask this out of vanity (ok…maybe a little) but rather to share my journey as a writer. Every writer—poet, essayist, author or journal writer is a sailor on constantly changing waters; and as the quote on all of our blog banners says: “A calm sea never a captain makes.” It is only through plowing through the waves of rough seas that a writer finds their unique and evolving Narrative Voice. It is only through words and action that life is made real. All else is ephemeral (look that up), an ether that dissipates before we catch the true meaning and purpose of who we are.
A true sailor—aka a writer—is at heart an explorer of the infinite sea that churns in gnarly waves within his or her’s body, mind, heart and soul and being. Who knows where that journey leads? Maybe a rocky desolate shore or a dangerous reef. Maybe a tropical paradise resplendent in beauty and bountiful fruit. But it all starts with an empty page and a wild desire to discover and share the voice that is our own.
A few minutes ago this was an empty page that is only filled by insistent effort. I pry words like heavy stones from a muddy field and somehow I build a wall with those stones and within these walls—the confines of my mind—I plant this field.
This is all—and everything—I ask you to do. Your field is not my field, nor do I wish it could be or want it to be. If all that is left on your page is stains of mud, sweat and blood, show us those stains and blood, for this is where common words are transmogrified (look that up, too) into a poet’s etching on the tablet of time.
All I am asking for this short week is two writing pieces (only one writing piece for Section One which only meets on Friday this week)—essays, poetry or just ramblings—and to spend at least one hour commenting on mine and your classmate’s posts, if you have not done so already. Doing this should be more invigorating than tiring—if your head and heart is in the right place.
And, as Mae West once said, “It is better to look marvelous than to feel marvelous,” so at the very least make your posts “look” marvelous. Visual Rhetoric!
Dig the stones. Spill the blood. Wipe the sweat from your brow. Try to build a wall and call each day a day well-spent. Sleep soundly and dream of tomorrow.
Thanks. I really do appreciate what you do and have done.