Week 9
My goodness. How is it the end of week nine already? We now have just 3 full weeks left of this semester before this Christmas rolls around. Now, don't get me wrong, I am excited for Christmas, but I cannot believe it is here again, ALREADY. I am so unprepared. I must write a list of Christmas present which I am yet to buy, bid adieu to my housemates for the season, try and hide them from my parents as I move back for the holidays, fit in various home friends reunions and thrown in there somewhere is my birthday also. And two assignments to write and a rationale. After I have handed one assignment and rationale in three weeks time. And then begin in next term's prep work.
Crikey.
I have spent most of this week deep in the recesses of my own brain. I am frantically writing as much as I possibly can, I scribbled four full pages of notes whilst I was at work yesterday whilst my assignments plague my every waking moment. I am now referring to this as being in 'the forest.' One of the pieces I am working on at the moment features a girl in a mystical forest and her struggle to get out. I have adopted this metaphor for my own mind. Whenever I am stressed I need to get 'into the forest' to work it out. Whenever I just need to be by myself and type I am already 'in the forest,' and then there are those days, much like today I feel, that I am already in my own head and cannot leave, 'I am stuck in the forest,' and then I have days when I need to 'write myself out of the forest,' in order to regain my sanity.
Following on from my lecture last night I googled a poet whose work we briefly analysed, Tami Haaland and I read an article with her: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/brian-dambrosio/montana-poet-laureate-tam_b_4270691.html
Now, I would usually tell people that I hate poetry, which is, in part, true. But this course, if nothing else, seems to be opening my eyes to poetry that I can understand and has actually made me write some myself. It is a wonderful therapeutic craft. She discusses walking through her poetry, the simple rhythmic movement helping her to shape her work, which is something I am curious about. I have been shaping poetry about walking through another person's mind, perhaps this could be a process which I can use and then discuss in my work.
We shall see.
I need to get out of the forest first today.
Today's Soundtrack, my favourite: Mallory Knox
Crikey.
I have spent most of this week deep in the recesses of my own brain. I am frantically writing as much as I possibly can, I scribbled four full pages of notes whilst I was at work yesterday whilst my assignments plague my every waking moment. I am now referring to this as being in 'the forest.' One of the pieces I am working on at the moment features a girl in a mystical forest and her struggle to get out. I have adopted this metaphor for my own mind. Whenever I am stressed I need to get 'into the forest' to work it out. Whenever I just need to be by myself and type I am already 'in the forest,' and then there are those days, much like today I feel, that I am already in my own head and cannot leave, 'I am stuck in the forest,' and then I have days when I need to 'write myself out of the forest,' in order to regain my sanity.
Following on from my lecture last night I googled a poet whose work we briefly analysed, Tami Haaland and I read an article with her: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/brian-dambrosio/montana-poet-laureate-tam_b_4270691.html
Now, I would usually tell people that I hate poetry, which is, in part, true. But this course, if nothing else, seems to be opening my eyes to poetry that I can understand and has actually made me write some myself. It is a wonderful therapeutic craft. She discusses walking through her poetry, the simple rhythmic movement helping her to shape her work, which is something I am curious about. I have been shaping poetry about walking through another person's mind, perhaps this could be a process which I can use and then discuss in my work.
We shall see.
I need to get out of the forest first today.
Today's Soundtrack, my favourite: Mallory Knox
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