If anyone has ever seen my notebook I use at school they'll know how bad my writing is. It's not even that I have sloppy handwriting, it's just that I get so carried away sometimes when I write that I start to write outside the lines. A note here, a sentence there. It all culminates into a scribbled mess on the page. From a distance it looks sloppy and unintelligent, but if you take the time to sit and read it it all comes together to make a bigger picture. Just like that painting by Georges whoever in Liar & Spy. Stipple art. Nothing more than a huge mess of dots up close but the bigger picture is a work of art. I haven't had the time to blog since I've been here really but here I am, in my plot workshop of my second semester at VCFA, thinking about my terrible handwriting in my notebook. Ridiculous, right? Maybe slightly, but it makes perfect sense to me. I'm rambling. I've been working on the same story for almost a year now. That's the longest commitment to any piece of writing I've ever had. I have eight rough chapters and a basic skeleton of where the rest of the story will go from here. Sometimes, though, it feels like the only real thing I have are these little scraps of thoughts written outside the lines and in the margins of this notebook. This notebook that contains more information and more work and more knowledge of craft than anything I've ever owned. Hidden gems mixed in with notes from fantastic lectures that I wish you all got to read and experience. Sometimes it feels like real magic, like I got whisked away to Hogwarts in a flying car after missing my train. Tomorrow I'll learn to fly on the Nimbus 2015, the latest and greatest model in the line of brooms. Okay maybe that was a bit too far into my fandom. Sorry. It is weird being back though. Only six months and I feel like so much has changed. I'm no longer afraid of everyone who looks at me. I feel more comfortable speaking up and offering my opinion. I feel that sense of belonging I was afraid would never come. I guess I feel like a writer among writers. The best thing about being here is feeling like I'm on a working vacation. Some people escape through reading, some escape through work. I'm lucky enough to do both. It's been stressful back home (and I'm sure it'll be stressful again, both personally and professionally,) but being here makes it seem like everything is going to be okay, like maybe I can find a way to become a real grown up after this. It's like being filled with hope, and peace, and the feeling that maybe, actually, life really is about to begin. It's the weight of possibility. It's the weight of living. Does this even make sense anymore? Goodnight. Why does it take a new year to make us want to change ourselves? I never really considered it from that point of view before. It was always just sort of something I did because everyone else did: this year I'll be healthier, this year I'll work harder, blah blah blah. A year is a long time to make that kind of a commitment. It's a long time to forget you even made the commitment. So today I'll break that tradition. Today marks the day I will make resolutions for myself daily. I'm going to take the time to think about myself every day, not just once a year. |
AlexisMaster of Fine Arts from Vermont College of Fine Arts, Rowan University alumna, sister of Theta Phi Alpha, and future YA author extraordinaire. Archives
February 2017
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Bear with me while I blog for the first time ever.