Uta Hagen--

"We must overcome the notion that we must be regular...it robs you of the chance to be extraordinary and leads you to the mediocre."

Saturday, August 25, 2012


I know I skipped writing last Tuesday, and I meant to post Wednesday.  I did, I really did.  But Tuesday was spent finishing up my homework for school (which started Wednesday), and then Wednesday after school I felt really sick and slept a good portion of the evening after I got home.  But I told myself I would post before my next Tuesday came about, so you're welcome.  ?

Anyway, my year, so far, has been pretty good.  I like most of my teachers, and I like being an upper-classman.  Although, that kind of sends a feeling of panic through me as I'm half way done with high school, and if the same holds true for these years, the next two are going to fly by way too fast.  I really think I wouldn't mind school so much if I didn't have to get up so early!  I'm not a morning person, at all.  Besides my English teacher giving us an insanely impossible quiz over a book I read in June (a how-to book, nonetheless) asking for tiny details he included that I didn't star or anything, this year has been okay the first three days.

I feel like I should update you on my writing, since I haven't done that in awhile.  I haven't written anything.  Literally, nothing.  This past Sunday we had a car/bike show and pig roast fundraiser for Jimmy's scholarship fund.  It turned out pretty great, and we even had Scotty Bratcher performing.  It was a great day and a lot of fun.  But it reminded me how much I have slacked on writing.  I didn't write at all this summer, nothing that I wanted to write, that is.  I may have written one poem this summer, and I know it wasn't my best.  It also reminded me that I needed to write a poem for the two-year anniversary. 

It's been a real struggle for me.  I haven't had a ton of time to try to write it, but when I sit down to do it I just kind of freeze.  I don't know if it's because I've taken such a long break or what.  I have a couple things written down that I want to include in the poem, but this is a tough one.  I don't know that I've ever struggled with a rough draft of a poem so much. 

At the car show, Scotty was talking about writing songs.  He couldn't remember who said it, but he quoted them on saying "When you write about it, it's because you're over it."  I agree with that in terms of relationships, daily events, and that kind of stuff.  But with death?  I'm not so sure.  Some of the best things I've written have been written during my darkest hours of grief.  But at the same time, some of my worst stuff has been written during those hours, too.

I think sometimes we get too caught up in trying to philosophize pain; trying to find a reason for it, trying to make it symbolic.  And sometimes?  Sometimes we can't.  I'm not a very good philosophic poet.  I will never claim to be.  I don't write deep stuff.  I mean, the closest metaphoric thing I've ever written to that would be the caged bird poem or the one I wrote for Scotty about "playing with broken guitar strings."

Writing, when over thought, isn't writing, rather it's a dictated syntax of words.


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