In the prologue of "The Best American Essays," Susan Orlean writes about the essay's subjectivity. She refers to the essay as an exploration, "What mattered was that they conveyed the writer's journey..." (pg. 24). In rich Cohen's essay Becoming Adlof, the author takes the reader along with him as he attempts to reclaim the Toothbrush mustache. Cohen explains his reasoning behind wanting to grow that particular mustache, "I wanted to defuse it. I wanted to own it. I wanted to reclaim it for America and for the Jews." (pg. 69).
Cohen explores the possibility of disarming such infamous facial hair. "A dozen Hitlers passed through my mind: Hitler in a sport coat; Hitler in a lab coat. Hitler in a Speedo; Hitler in a Camaro. I shook myself and said, 'Get it together, Hitler--you're losing your mind!'" (pg. 75). Cohen confronts the history of the Toothbrush mustache with a great deal of humor. His Jewish background also lends another layer to the essay acting as partial motivation for his week long experiment. He notes that the mustache has been worn by both silent film comedians and facilitators of genocide. Cohen remarks on his experiences walking through the streets of New York City with his social experiment between his nose and upper lip, "So people do with the little Hitlers what people always do with lunatics in New York, the harmless or dangerous--they ignore, they avert, they move away." (pg. 75). Cohen concludes that the Toothbrush mustache can not be forgiven of its infamous past. "When you're wearing the Toothbrush mustache, you are waring the worst story in the world right under your nose." (pg. 76).
Although Cohen's essay is humorous, connecting something as inconsequential as facial hair with a tragic time in history, to me it is missing something. Perhaps it is unfair to compare Cohen's essay to that of his colleagues published in the same volume, however, as a reader, I cannot help myself from doing so. In my personal opinion, it lacks a certain depth or richness in comparison to the other essays we have read so far. I approached this essay with the expectation of something satisfyingly insightful. Instead, it was almost like being really thirsty and opening a soda, only to find that it's flat. Unfortunately, despite its merits as discussed above, I find this story to ultimately be flat.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
Reflections on "Book Marks"
After our class discussion, I reread Rebecca McClanahan’s essay “Book Marks.” When I first read the essay I knew there was more to be uncovered. The same could be true after reading it twice. However, after our class discussion I have really come to see the possibility that the writer and the woman she describes are in fact the same person. McClanahan creates herself as a character within her own story. She plays a double role as the narrator and the subject. She creates a character of a woman who is the patron at the same library and the notes in the margin to herself that she left behind to tell her own story. The author distances herself and creates a character who all these things might happen to. It is as if in this essay she is writing a cautionary tale to herself, to not go back and make all the mistakes that hindsight has shed light on. “I Tell myself I wouldn’t have stayed in that kind of situation…( how do we live with the knowledge of our past selves?)” (pg.102). It is almost as if the writer is giving advice to her former self, as if to say, "If I knew then what I know now."
The essay explores her relationships with people as well as books. Often the two overlap. Her husband is abusive and unfaithful. The books are abused and tell the stories of their previous readers. She contemplates the limits of harming of books as she contemplates whether she really wants to die. Her husband ultimately let her down in every conceivable way. She becomes her own disappointment after her suicide attempts, however she is ultimately able to find her way back to her own identity. “I fall into books the way I fall into lust—fully, hungrily. Often the book disappoints, or I disappoint” (pg.98). consistently throughout the essay McClanahan uses books and the markings left in them as a metaphor for her relationships and her own journey through life. She experiences both wear and abuse as the books do, but in the end she has her own story that she decides to tell.
The essay explores her relationships with people as well as books. Often the two overlap. Her husband is abusive and unfaithful. The books are abused and tell the stories of their previous readers. She contemplates the limits of harming of books as she contemplates whether she really wants to die. Her husband ultimately let her down in every conceivable way. She becomes her own disappointment after her suicide attempts, however she is ultimately able to find her way back to her own identity. “I fall into books the way I fall into lust—fully, hungrily. Often the book disappoints, or I disappoint” (pg.98). consistently throughout the essay McClanahan uses books and the markings left in them as a metaphor for her relationships and her own journey through life. She experiences both wear and abuse as the books do, but in the end she has her own story that she decides to tell.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Inspired Writing-Week Four
My "Left-Brain Workout"
1. Learning musical instruments
2. Not being able to read music
3. Continuing to persist at something I'm not good at
4. Dealing with my limitations as someone with cerebral palsey
5. Struggling with perfectionism
6. Setting lofty goals for myself
7. Pushing the limits
On Setting Lofty Goals
Setting lofty goals is a symptom of perfectionism. Part of being a perfectionist is setting yourself up oftentimes for failure, something which while part of life, is considered a non-option for most perfectionists since failure flies in the face of perfectionsim and all that it stands for. When I set a goal, I often don't have the proper timeframe to achieve those goals. Every summer I make a list for myself of the things I want to acomplish or the books I want to read and I usually complete only half the list as well as only half of the books read. Setting lofty goals motivates me and propells me forward in life but it has the downside of having a large probability for error without margin for any, causing both frustration and anxiety. Combining lofty goals with a tendency for perfectionism creates a difficult situation because in the process of completing such goals, its impossible not to make mistakes or have some degree of failure because that's what life is about; its far from perfect.
1. Learning musical instruments
2. Not being able to read music
3. Continuing to persist at something I'm not good at
4. Dealing with my limitations as someone with cerebral palsey
5. Struggling with perfectionism
6. Setting lofty goals for myself
7. Pushing the limits
On Setting Lofty Goals
Setting lofty goals is a symptom of perfectionism. Part of being a perfectionist is setting yourself up oftentimes for failure, something which while part of life, is considered a non-option for most perfectionists since failure flies in the face of perfectionsim and all that it stands for. When I set a goal, I often don't have the proper timeframe to achieve those goals. Every summer I make a list for myself of the things I want to acomplish or the books I want to read and I usually complete only half the list as well as only half of the books read. Setting lofty goals motivates me and propells me forward in life but it has the downside of having a large probability for error without margin for any, causing both frustration and anxiety. Combining lofty goals with a tendency for perfectionism creates a difficult situation because in the process of completing such goals, its impossible not to make mistakes or have some degree of failure because that's what life is about; its far from perfect.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Experimenting with scene
A scene regarding my inability to read music:
Sitting in a small, cramped practice room I glance at myself in the mirror. I can hear the person in the neighboring room practicing in an attempt to master a classical piano piece I struggle to identify. A Boston piano stands on the wall opposite the mirror, with its marred black matte finish and the bottom of the B on the Boston logo chipped off, the surface is worn after only one year in service. My instructor Mr. F. is sitting on the piano bench across from me. His flash cards slowly emerge from his brown leather briefcase, each containing one musical note sitting in a different place on the staff previously created with a felt tip sharpie pen in black ink. I begin to identify the notes. Struggling I say, “BDECA” in succession. I start over again but falter. My face is turning red. The room is beginning to feel even smaller and the temperature seems to be climbing. I can’t remember. “I think its C,” I say timidly.
A scene expounding upon instrument description:
I crack open the case. Gingerly, I place the violin on my blush pink bedspread. The instant I open the case, a cigar-box-like smell wafts through the air, kind of musty and spicy at the same time. Undeterred by any imperfections on the violin or any other contents of the case, I stroke the black synthetic material of the interior with my fingers. It feels like a fleece blanket when it’s new. I inspect the violin; the wood grain, the F holes, the scroll, the stain, the shape of the body in all its refined elegance. I do not notice the dings from prior users. I continue emptying the case, examining the rosin, a block of hardened tree sap enclosed on three sides with wood. I place the rosin back in its individual compartment and return to the bow. I tighten the bow, twisting the metal knob at its base. Before I know it, I’ve gone too far. One of the horsehairs pops off, springing forward as if by its own will, for freedom.
A scene describing my only concert:
A crowd of parents are gathered in the gymnasium, sitting on rickety metal folding chairs. I hear the crowd from behind the curtain as I sit under the lights and begin to sweat. My hands are clammy, gripping the cool metal of the slide; I start to shake with the slightest of tremors. The hum of the crowd is growing louder, occasionally broken by an exuberant laugh or crying child. The music teacher has everyone assembled on the risers. I am sitting on a chair, firmly connected to the stage. The teacher smiles at us in reassurance, then exits stage left to introduce us. The blue velvet curtains are drawn back with sudden force. On cue, we start to play.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Reflections on "Silent Dancing" by Judith Ortiz Coffer
In Silent Dancing by Judith Ortiz Coffer, she recalls a silent home movie lasting only five minutes documenting a New Year's Eve party. She remembers the movie as, "a great visual aid to my memory of life at that time." The movie is in color, "the only complete scene in color I can recall from those years." (pg. 58). The fact that the movie is silent is significant for many reasons. In absence of noise, there is color in the movie, where in daily life there is constant noise, but the only predominant color is gray. The author recalls, "My memories of life in Patterson during those first few years are all in shades of gray. Maybe I was too young to absorb vivid colors...but that single color washes over the whole period." (pg. 58).
Throughout the essay her family is caught up in the juxtaposition with both the desire to assimilate yet hold onto their Cuban heritage and culture. The "bright colors" of the upholstered furniture in the movie reflect the optimism of life in America despite the hardships of assimilation. The color and silence aspects of the movie both serve as a veil for reality to hide behind. The five-minute clip of celebration is only momentary in comparison to the harsh reality of daily life. When Judith questions her mother as to why the women are wearing red dresses in the film, her mother dismisses her question and Judith notes, "She doesn't have my obsession for assigning symbolism to everything." (pg. 59). Judith recalls one New Year's Eve that the family went to get their portrait taken at Sears. This family photo in a way represents their Americanization and achievement of the "American Dream" however difficult such a cliched dream is in reality.
Judith recalls the awkwardness of the silent dancing in the home movie. "Since there is no justification for the absurd movements that music provides some of us, people appear frantic, their faces embarrassingly intense. It's as if you were watching sex." (pg. 64). Shortly after this recollection, the voice of the narrator shifts from that of the author to that of her aunt, revealing some ugly truths to her about her cousin's abortion. "You say your mother pick up your doll from the couch and say; 'it was as big as this doll when they flushed it down the toilet,' that image has bothered you for years hasn't it?" (pg.65). The insides of the aunt reveal ugly things hiding beneath the surface of the brightly colored home movie.
The essay concludes with the author in a dreamlike state. Reflecting on her father's uncle, a dying alcoholic, "I realize that in his features I can see my whole family...I do not want to look into those eyes ringed in purple." (pg. 66). She envisions her own image behind her great uncle's face and does not wish to confront such a connection. Essentially, everyone in the home movie is the "New Year's fool" (pg. 63) because for the brief space of time during that New Year's party they allow themselves to be ignorant of reality and its lack of beauty.
Throughout the essay her family is caught up in the juxtaposition with both the desire to assimilate yet hold onto their Cuban heritage and culture. The "bright colors" of the upholstered furniture in the movie reflect the optimism of life in America despite the hardships of assimilation. The color and silence aspects of the movie both serve as a veil for reality to hide behind. The five-minute clip of celebration is only momentary in comparison to the harsh reality of daily life. When Judith questions her mother as to why the women are wearing red dresses in the film, her mother dismisses her question and Judith notes, "She doesn't have my obsession for assigning symbolism to everything." (pg. 59). Judith recalls one New Year's Eve that the family went to get their portrait taken at Sears. This family photo in a way represents their Americanization and achievement of the "American Dream" however difficult such a cliched dream is in reality.
Judith recalls the awkwardness of the silent dancing in the home movie. "Since there is no justification for the absurd movements that music provides some of us, people appear frantic, their faces embarrassingly intense. It's as if you were watching sex." (pg. 64). Shortly after this recollection, the voice of the narrator shifts from that of the author to that of her aunt, revealing some ugly truths to her about her cousin's abortion. "You say your mother pick up your doll from the couch and say; 'it was as big as this doll when they flushed it down the toilet,' that image has bothered you for years hasn't it?" (pg.65). The insides of the aunt reveal ugly things hiding beneath the surface of the brightly colored home movie.
The essay concludes with the author in a dreamlike state. Reflecting on her father's uncle, a dying alcoholic, "I realize that in his features I can see my whole family...I do not want to look into those eyes ringed in purple." (pg. 66). She envisions her own image behind her great uncle's face and does not wish to confront such a connection. Essentially, everyone in the home movie is the "New Year's fool" (pg. 63) because for the brief space of time during that New Year's party they allow themselves to be ignorant of reality and its lack of beauty.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Reflections on "Hair" by Marcia Aldrich and "Girl" by Jamaica Kincaid
After reading Marcia Aldrich's essay "Hair" I found myself disappointed as I remembered the poem"Girl" by Jamaica Kincaid. Both pieces run parallel in terms of theme; what it means to grow up and become a woman.The essay seemed generic in comparison to the poem by Jamaica Kincaid.
The essay "Hair" is a reflection by the author of the importance that hair held to her mother and the subsequent differing reactions of her two sisters. The importance of hair to Aldrich's mother comes from a perception, real or imagined, that "the only change she could effect was a change in her hair." In the essay there seems to be an intrepidation about change especially major life events such as marriage or having a child. The hairstylist Julie references these events as a "dangerous time" for women. To her mother, getting her hair done represented her status as a married woman, "After the wedding, women's hairstyles bore the stamp of property..." It is from her hairstyle that Aldrich's mother draws her self worth and sense of identity; "She believed that the damage done to her hair was tangible proof that she had been somewhere, like stickers on her suitcases."
Aldrich's oldest sister decided not to change her hair much at all. Being secure with her hair reveals that she is also secure with herself and her identity. While Aldrich's other sister is more like her mother, "She's forced to keep her hair short because chemicals do tend to destroy. My mother admires my sister's determination to transform herself, and never more than in my sister's latest assault upon middle age." Aldrich "survived hair bondage" as a child like her sisters did, but came into her own as an adult. She does this metaphorically at the end of the essay through Rhonda. She comes to the realization that "hair is vital, sustains mistakes, can be born again." Throughout the essay, hair became a metaphor for identity which can similarly be reinvented and sustained.
The poem "Girl" by Jamaica Kincaid is written as if it were a lecture from mother to daughter. It is a list of rules on how to become a good, respectable domestic woman. In my opinion, this poem is much more condensed and powerful than Aldrich's essay as they confront similar subjects about learning what it means to be a woman and how to handle changes and responsibilities in life. In the poem, the mother instructs her daughter on everything from how to do laundry to home remedies for abortions. By the end of the poem, at least in the subtext, the mother recognizes that her daughter will grow up to be a strong, respectable woman.
The essay "Hair" is a reflection by the author of the importance that hair held to her mother and the subsequent differing reactions of her two sisters. The importance of hair to Aldrich's mother comes from a perception, real or imagined, that "the only change she could effect was a change in her hair." In the essay there seems to be an intrepidation about change especially major life events such as marriage or having a child. The hairstylist Julie references these events as a "dangerous time" for women. To her mother, getting her hair done represented her status as a married woman, "After the wedding, women's hairstyles bore the stamp of property..." It is from her hairstyle that Aldrich's mother draws her self worth and sense of identity; "She believed that the damage done to her hair was tangible proof that she had been somewhere, like stickers on her suitcases."
Aldrich's oldest sister decided not to change her hair much at all. Being secure with her hair reveals that she is also secure with herself and her identity. While Aldrich's other sister is more like her mother, "She's forced to keep her hair short because chemicals do tend to destroy. My mother admires my sister's determination to transform herself, and never more than in my sister's latest assault upon middle age." Aldrich "survived hair bondage" as a child like her sisters did, but came into her own as an adult. She does this metaphorically at the end of the essay through Rhonda. She comes to the realization that "hair is vital, sustains mistakes, can be born again." Throughout the essay, hair became a metaphor for identity which can similarly be reinvented and sustained.
The poem "Girl" by Jamaica Kincaid is written as if it were a lecture from mother to daughter. It is a list of rules on how to become a good, respectable domestic woman. In my opinion, this poem is much more condensed and powerful than Aldrich's essay as they confront similar subjects about learning what it means to be a woman and how to handle changes and responsibilities in life. In the poem, the mother instructs her daughter on everything from how to do laundry to home remedies for abortions. By the end of the poem, at least in the subtext, the mother recognizes that her daughter will grow up to be a strong, respectable woman.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
A study in opening lines
I perused my personal collection of books to find a few lines that literally open the book or begin a chapter.
"Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself." from Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. For Virginia, this is a fairly short sentence, free from verbosity. Perhaps it was her form of the "grabber" statement because why would the likes of Mrs. Dalloway, a party socialite buy the flowers herself?
"Woods are not like other spaces." from A Walk In The Woods by Bill Bryson. This line brings the reader into the world of the writer, establishes a setting and sets up with a very simple observation, an ensuing comedy.
"Even now, it's always the same question: Why don't you act more like a girl?" from The Last Time I Wore a Dress by Daphne Scholinski. This line opens with a question that the character is being confronted with which denotes conflict has presented itself on more than one occasion.
"I can not begin to write this book." from Waist-High in the World by Nancy Mairs. This is perhaps the most literal first line I have ever come across. It is not a line that was written in the middle or at the end, and then just placed at the beginning. It is evidence of quintessential writers block.
"There is only one answer to the question: Would you like to see a three a.m. performance of amateur Portuguese circus clowns?"from How Did You Get This Number by Sloane Crosley. I love the opening line to this short story because I can't help but being drawn in by it because it is so bizarre and unexpected. It leaves the reader wanting to know what context would exist in order for that question to be asked.
"All my life I have acted wrongly, very wrongly." from How to be Inappropriate by Daniel Nester. This line is self deprecating. Admitting fault and flaw which is inviting to readers because they too, as human beings possess flaws.
"As most New Yorkers have done, I have given serious and generous thought to the state of my apartment should I get killed during the day." from I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloane Crosley. This opening line is funny and serious at the same time. Because of this juxtaposition, it makes the reader want to read on.
"First, what I need you to do is give me permission to drive you completely insane by using the word 'need' in places where another word, like 'want' or 'order,' would be more 'honest.'" from the essay "Needs" by George W. S. Trow. It is interesting to open a piece, asking someone permission to drive them crazy because not only does it sound like a question a child would ask, most normal people would answer, "of course you don't have permission!"
"When Miss Emily Grierson died, our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a fallen monument, the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house..." from "A Rose for Emily" by William Faulkner. This is the opening line to one of my favorite short stories as a teenager. It depicts how people react around the town oddity even after they have died.
"I didn't tell anyone that I was going to Santa Fe to kill myself" from Manic by Terri Cheney. This is an interesting opening line mainly for its dramatic qualities. Also if the suicidal person is still alive, they are still available to tell their story.
"'The soul has no assignments,' Randall Jarrell says. 'It wastes its time.'" from the essay "Show Don't Tell," author unknown. The strength of this opening line comes from it's thought provoking quality. We often think of life as a list of things to do or accomplish and this statement contradicts that notion and challenges it.
"There is a typo on the hospital menu this morning." from the essay "Going" by Amy Hempel. This observation is a simple but curious one. It opens up questions of why the person speaking is in the hospital, whether they are visiting someone or a patient, and so forth.
It appears that a pattern is evolving here. The opening lines can catch the attention of reader for many reasons: they can be bold, or outlandish, or curious, questioning or quite simple. No matter how it is done, if it's done well, it successfully draws the reader in to turn the page.
"Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself." from Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. For Virginia, this is a fairly short sentence, free from verbosity. Perhaps it was her form of the "grabber" statement because why would the likes of Mrs. Dalloway, a party socialite buy the flowers herself?
"Woods are not like other spaces." from A Walk In The Woods by Bill Bryson. This line brings the reader into the world of the writer, establishes a setting and sets up with a very simple observation, an ensuing comedy.
"Even now, it's always the same question: Why don't you act more like a girl?" from The Last Time I Wore a Dress by Daphne Scholinski. This line opens with a question that the character is being confronted with which denotes conflict has presented itself on more than one occasion.
"I can not begin to write this book." from Waist-High in the World by Nancy Mairs. This is perhaps the most literal first line I have ever come across. It is not a line that was written in the middle or at the end, and then just placed at the beginning. It is evidence of quintessential writers block.
"There is only one answer to the question: Would you like to see a three a.m. performance of amateur Portuguese circus clowns?"from How Did You Get This Number by Sloane Crosley. I love the opening line to this short story because I can't help but being drawn in by it because it is so bizarre and unexpected. It leaves the reader wanting to know what context would exist in order for that question to be asked.
"All my life I have acted wrongly, very wrongly." from How to be Inappropriate by Daniel Nester. This line is self deprecating. Admitting fault and flaw which is inviting to readers because they too, as human beings possess flaws.
"As most New Yorkers have done, I have given serious and generous thought to the state of my apartment should I get killed during the day." from I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloane Crosley. This opening line is funny and serious at the same time. Because of this juxtaposition, it makes the reader want to read on.
"First, what I need you to do is give me permission to drive you completely insane by using the word 'need' in places where another word, like 'want' or 'order,' would be more 'honest.'" from the essay "Needs" by George W. S. Trow. It is interesting to open a piece, asking someone permission to drive them crazy because not only does it sound like a question a child would ask, most normal people would answer, "of course you don't have permission!"
"When Miss Emily Grierson died, our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a fallen monument, the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house..." from "A Rose for Emily" by William Faulkner. This is the opening line to one of my favorite short stories as a teenager. It depicts how people react around the town oddity even after they have died.
"I didn't tell anyone that I was going to Santa Fe to kill myself" from Manic by Terri Cheney. This is an interesting opening line mainly for its dramatic qualities. Also if the suicidal person is still alive, they are still available to tell their story.
"'The soul has no assignments,' Randall Jarrell says. 'It wastes its time.'" from the essay "Show Don't Tell," author unknown. The strength of this opening line comes from it's thought provoking quality. We often think of life as a list of things to do or accomplish and this statement contradicts that notion and challenges it.
"There is a typo on the hospital menu this morning." from the essay "Going" by Amy Hempel. This observation is a simple but curious one. It opens up questions of why the person speaking is in the hospital, whether they are visiting someone or a patient, and so forth.
It appears that a pattern is evolving here. The opening lines can catch the attention of reader for many reasons: they can be bold, or outlandish, or curious, questioning or quite simple. No matter how it is done, if it's done well, it successfully draws the reader in to turn the page.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Personal Essay Free Write
My roles:
Sister
Student
Daughter
Friend
Tenant
Volunteer
Identity Club Member
Cat Owner
Writer
I feel I could write more about the roles that I play as: student, cat owner, volunteer. My preferences may change as inspiration strikes.
My Territories:
The College of Saint Rose
My apartment
Writing
Reading for pleasure
Volunteering at St. Ann's Institute for girls
Learning musical instruments: clarinet, piano, flute
Collecting greeting cards
Writing letters the old-fashioned way
My life is an amateur musician - I can't even read music but I love it. I have taken clarinet and piano lessons. I am more skilled at the clarinet, but that's not saying much. I enjoy playing music. It mostly relaxes me but sometimes it frustrates me because I am a perfectionist. That's why I like to emphasize the fun and not the skill part of it. I have difficulty with fine motor skills so that limits my ability and selection of instruments. I would love to play a string instrument, however my attempts have failed outright. I have yet to take a flute lesson but plan to. I can get one good note out of it, I just don't know the name. I would hope to stop at three instruments and try to hone some craft out of it. But who knows, I might just get curious again...I am a serial amateur musician.
Things that changed the way I see the world:
Living with cerebral palsy has a big impact on how I see the world.
My cousin Brendan died June 20, 2009. He was 25, only four years older than me. He was the smartest person I've ever met. His death made me face the possibility of my own premature death. After his death, I promised myself I'd go skydiving.
Long-term conflicts or worries:
Long-term internal conflict, i.e. low self-esteem and chronic depression. I always worry that I won't be up to par or won't reach my goals in life.
Something that is troubling me right now:
I'm worried I'll get into another car accident.
I want to get my grad school applications in on time and well done.
I want to maintain my GPA of 3.6.
I want to not be so riddled with anxiety that I don't enjoy my senior year.
I want my dad to get surgery to correct the extra electrical connection in his heart know as Wolf-Parkinson-White syndrome.
I'm worried that I won't overcome my deficiencies enough to be independent and successful in grad school and life in general.
I'm worried that I will never be confident enough to enjoy my accomplishments.
Sister
Student
Daughter
Friend
Tenant
Volunteer
Identity Club Member
Cat Owner
Writer
I feel I could write more about the roles that I play as: student, cat owner, volunteer. My preferences may change as inspiration strikes.
My Territories:
The College of Saint Rose
My apartment
Writing
Reading for pleasure
Volunteering at St. Ann's Institute for girls
Learning musical instruments: clarinet, piano, flute
Collecting greeting cards
Writing letters the old-fashioned way
My life is an amateur musician - I can't even read music but I love it. I have taken clarinet and piano lessons. I am more skilled at the clarinet, but that's not saying much. I enjoy playing music. It mostly relaxes me but sometimes it frustrates me because I am a perfectionist. That's why I like to emphasize the fun and not the skill part of it. I have difficulty with fine motor skills so that limits my ability and selection of instruments. I would love to play a string instrument, however my attempts have failed outright. I have yet to take a flute lesson but plan to. I can get one good note out of it, I just don't know the name. I would hope to stop at three instruments and try to hone some craft out of it. But who knows, I might just get curious again...I am a serial amateur musician.
Things that changed the way I see the world:
Living with cerebral palsy has a big impact on how I see the world.
My cousin Brendan died June 20, 2009. He was 25, only four years older than me. He was the smartest person I've ever met. His death made me face the possibility of my own premature death. After his death, I promised myself I'd go skydiving.
Long-term conflicts or worries:
Long-term internal conflict, i.e. low self-esteem and chronic depression. I always worry that I won't be up to par or won't reach my goals in life.
Something that is troubling me right now:
I'm worried I'll get into another car accident.
I want to get my grad school applications in on time and well done.
I want to maintain my GPA of 3.6.
I want to not be so riddled with anxiety that I don't enjoy my senior year.
I want my dad to get surgery to correct the extra electrical connection in his heart know as Wolf-Parkinson-White syndrome.
I'm worried that I won't overcome my deficiencies enough to be independent and successful in grad school and life in general.
I'm worried that I will never be confident enough to enjoy my accomplishments.
Reflections on the art of the essay
Having read the reflections of writers on what an essay is, isn't, should, or could be in the prologue of The Best American Essays edited by Robert Atwan, I feel that people should be less confused by the genre of the essay. It is a perception of some that fiction and poetry are more straight forward while the essay can go any direction and push the envelope as far as it will go. It is also worth noting the observation that there is no one type of essay that reigns over the others and that the style of an essay is often a reflection of the author's style. Some essayists are reluctant to admit that the essay is their primary genre and instead move toward fiction, poetry, or academic writing because it seemingly needs less explanation than an essay. I love the potential timelessness of an essay and even if an essay can't be truly timeless, it will last much longer than a journalistic article. The essay is less bound by facts and allows for creativity for twists and turns that seemingly limitless potential. The essay is not merely a product but a personal journey taken by both the writer and the reader. It allows one to ask numerous questions without demanding immediate answers. It allows for introspection and exploration of ourselves and the surrounding world. It is not black and white, nor simple, it is wide-ranging and colorful; a complete spectrum. I used to think that I would one day call myself a poet, but as my academic pursuits of writing and literature continue, I feel most at home within the art of the essay, comfortable enough to shift definitions as necessary. It is a genre in which I believe I can refine my novice voice and strengthen it. Nor am I afraid to be loud.
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