I know that it's been quite a while since I last wrote. The problem was I lacked the time to write a daily or weekly blog post and plus I didn't think I had anything truly worthwhile to say. This past semester however, that all changed. My introductory portrait class was visited by author Angie Cruz. During her craft talk she challenged us to complete a writing exercise. She told us to get out a pen and paper and answer a series of questions, writing without stopping for approximately 2 minutes for each question. Then, after we were finished she challenged us to repeat this exercise for 21 days. She said that if we were truly serious writers, that this exercise would help open up our imaginations.
The day after I attended this craft talk I tried to complete the exercise and my attempt lasted only two days. Then a week later I attempted it again and was unsuccessful. This time I thought that by posting it to my blog that my Facebook friends and blog followers could help keep me a little bit more honest and ON task.
The day after I attended this craft talk I tried to complete the exercise and my attempt lasted only two days. Then a week later I attempted it again and was unsuccessful. This time I thought that by posting it to my blog that my Facebook friends and blog followers could help keep me a little bit more honest and ON task.
Today I saw a drunken
tele-novella loving grandmother being ruthlessly pushed down a flight of
stairs. I screamed at the television, as if someone could hear me, as if my
outrage over this plot twist would somehow change something.
Yesterday I saw the wings
being caught off a fairy in the name of ambition. Her face was stained with
tears and hurt. She was betrayed by her lover, a pain I hope I never feel. This
pain turned her soul black and in the evilness took over everything in her
path. If it were not for the love of a small child she would have destroyed
everything she once held dear.
This pain and anguish
sounded like the scream of a dying cat. It echoed and reverberated throughout
the land unable to be stopped. It reminded me of a tidal wave.
If you looked inside me you
would see someone who is bursting with pride and jealousy at the same time. You
would see someone who wants her future to start sooner rather than later.
The most beautiful,
terrible thing is that look on someone's face when they realize they have to
close a chapter in their lives and start a new. It is a mixture of absolute
terror and pure joy. It is a mixture between childhood and adulthood, when the
expectations placed upon you by others can seem somewhat overwhelming.
The five things I saw that
no one else saw…
1.
The stain on my
sheet.
2.
The face in my
shower curtain.
3.
The way the
fake snow sticks to the top of my snow globe.
4.
The meatball
juice that landed in my cleavage.
5.
The fake sexual
tension produced by two of my favorite television characters during a failed
sting operation.
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