LIVE from freshman rhetoric...

Sitting in the back row, as always, with my head leaning up against the wall. Kay-ris has decided to join me today, moving from her customary middle row to the back. It's nice to have a friend close by...

thirty-five minutes left.

I can't write anything. Seriously. You should see these two pages. They're filled with snatches of the nothing that is this class, drawings of circles and modern art rejects, and lines of poems that don't exist. English class should inspire writing genius, not slowly drain all appeal and joy from words on a page. I think that's why I dislike this class so much...there's absolutely no joy. It's a dry impossible chore. Writing should to be pleasant and therapeutic, but this class is a great recipe for slaughtering all creative genius.

twenty five. blah, blah, blah.

I think this whole poetry kick I'm on [as well as this blog] may possibly renew my love for the written word. For the past several years, my focus has been on verbal communication. I have been preoccupied with the sound of words and the emotion that speech can convey. The spoken has had nearly all of my attention. Sure, I've written a couple of things, but I haven't just written for fun in a long time. The focus on actress instead of authoress is fine in itself...however, I have ignored writing. I have ancient notebooks at home filled with story snippets, ideas, song lyrics [ultra ancient], etc. yet, I have filled only a couple of pages in the past year plus. I used to really enjoy pairing mundane words with other mundane words to create aesthetic combinations.

eighteen. why take fifty minutes to say what you could in ten?

I've always been a dreamer. When I was young [like, 10,] I wanted to be an actress when I grew up. Then, reality struck when I realized, frankly, that I wasn't pretty enough. Basically, with a few exceptions, it doesn't take talent to be in the film industry of today. It takes a nice face. *shrugs* Plus, it's really incredibly difficult to make any money at it, and there are plenty of people better than me out there wandering around looking for jobs. But maybe someday I'll hire one of them...And, as an actor, you really have no control. The important people are never seen onscreen. Actors do very little to make a movie...if a film requires 2 years to make from start to finish, there's probably only 2 months or so of actual shooting. If you want the power [which I do], you've got to be a part of the inside, not the outside.

I used to want to be a writer when I grew up. Maybe everybody goes through that stage, though. I'm not really sure when things changed, but suddenly, I'd rather critique someone else's work than displaying my own to be shredded. I'm the Editor. I'm not the Author. I'm the Critic. I'm not the Creator. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do. I enjoy editing immensely. I like helping people be better...feeding off their genius and contributing a little bit of my own. Is this just another example of my laziness and insecurity? Maybe.

twelve. i wonder if i received any mail today.

Anyway, why did I stop writing? Probably because I got distracted, and probably because, like my pursuit of music, if I can't be the best with little effort, I tend to stop trying. Javonne will tell me that's because I'm a Leo. I think it's more likely because I'm a lazy perfectionist[which is very Leo-ish]. I was never writing any best-seller material, but it wasn't bad. Writing has always been something at which I have been fairly good [always room for improvement, though], and more importantly, I enjoyed it.

ten. clock, please move faster. kay-ris is yawning, and i am too.

I was never a doodler, but always a scribbler. Names, snippets, everything. I couldn't find a piece of paper without filling it completely. It used to frustrate my family somewhat, because I would be sitting somewhere [usually by the computer] and there would be no scratch paper left within arms length when I left. When I stopped writing, I not only stopped improving my skill, it went backwards. I lost technique, and I'm having to gain that back. But most importantly, I forgot the joy that I used to get from scribbling.

I can definitely see parallels to my daily Christian walk. When I'm not reading my Bible or spending time in prayer and good fellowship with other believers, I lose sight very quickly. I lose the diligence it takes to run the race. The technique and training. But primarily, my foolish mind immediately forgets the joy that comes with a right relationship with God. It take repentance and training to get back to where I was before.

three minutes. everyone is glancing at the clock, and you can feel the whole room collectively counting down the seconds.

I suppose English wasn't as pointless as a pointy gnome hat. I mean, I got a new post out of it. And a renewed vision for writing. Not up to the fiction stage yet, but maybe someday soon I'll be particularly inspired. Or particularly avoiding Greek.

times up! kay-ris and i made it through another day, and the sun is shining brilliantly.

see you, space cowboy.