A moment

I don't have much time these days.

My mind is constantly full of assignments, readings, grades, lesson plans, group projects, and mild emotional breakdowns.

But here is an excerpt I came across from The Book Thief today.

It doesn't really make sense, especially if you don't know the characters, but for some reason this just hit me, and I wanted to let you guys know. How often do we have moments like this, when something strikes us so hard, that we can barely recover? How often do I let my exhaustion build up to the point that I can't even recognize these moments? I hope I can keep my mind clear enough to not miss a single one.



"Hair the color of lemons,'" Rudy read. His fingers touched the words. "You told him about me?"

At first, Liesel could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.

Years ago, when they'd raced on a muddy field, Rudy was a hastily assembled set of bones, with a jagged, rocky smile. In the trees this afternoon, he was a giver of bread and teddy bears. He was a triple Hitler Youth athletics champion. He was her best friend. And he was a month from his death.

Of course I told him about you," Liesel said."

-Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Another one...

I wrote this one in my creative writing class after fulfilling an assignment to go to the Museum of Art (MOA).

Photo Gallery

I descend down stairs
To stares
Of glossy-eyed gazers
Through black-framed glass.

I question the frozen faces.
Perhaps
These stony smiles can answer
My unquenchable qualms.

They refuse, those frigid guards,
And howl
Like gray backed wolves
For me to shuffle, squibble, squirm along.




I definitely have a ways to go before I'm a poet, but I like messing with words and syllables. Fun stuff!

Freestyle!

Here's a poem I wrote on the fly. I'll probably add more soon!

Hesitation

I once found an answer
Hiding in the corner
Of a dimly lit room,
With woven carpets of
Almost forest-like shades of green.

The red-rimmed arm chair
Almost blocked from view
The quivering key
That cowered next to
The burdened oak bookshelf, that
Almost won 
With its volumes of
Almost-answers and
Almost-rights.

But I saw it.
I snatched it.
It shook in my clutched fist.
My answered prayer
Almost seemed to know
That it contained more turmoil
Than peace.

I knew it too.
It told me to let go. I
Almost did.
Then, I tightened my grasp.

Tyger! Tyger!

Has anyone ever read William Blake's Songs of Innocence and Experience? 

We read it in my late British Literature class. 

I still remember the day we read "The Lamb" and "The Tyger." 

I remember my teacher looking at us from across the room, with eyes that not only burned, but seared my soul with captivation. 

"Which would you pick?" he asked, "A life of innocence? A lamb?"

I'm in his class again this semester, and he asked a similar question after discussing the Garden of Eden:

"Remember the happiest moment of your life up to this point. If you could, would you stop time and stay in that moment for the rest of your life? Would you have stayed in the Garden?"

I tried to think of my happiest moment. It took an unfortunately lengthy amount of time. I finally resolved on one night spent playing in the snow my freshman year of college. I can remember it so clearly; the cold sinking down my back as I was pelted with snow, the laughter that rang out as I sought pay back, and the sweetness of failing to learn how to waltz on icy pavement with the perfect dance partner.

Would I go back?

"Or would you pick the Tyger? Would you choose the pain that comes with experience?"

Things are darker with the Tyger. There is the unknown, there is the potential for failure, there is always pain.

It's been two years since that night in the snow. My dance partner is no longer perfect; in fact, he is barely a part of my life anymore. I'm fairly certain we broke up only a couple weeks after that night. I can't even remember. And I've experienced plenty of unrelated pain since. In fact, I can honestly say that the years since that night have probably been the most challenging of my life.

"Would you have stayed in the Garden?"

No. 

Life hurts. So, so, so, so much. There are things that happen that I don't understand and I'm fairly positive that I never will. Sometimes, I sit back and think "How on earth am I going to survive this one? Is anything good ever going to happen?" 

But, really, in between all of these horrible moments, there are a hundred really fantastic ones. And if I never tried, well then, I would never feel anything anyway. 

So there, I'm glad I tried. And I'm glad I hurt, even though the pain is sometimes more than I think I can handle. 

I take risks because I'm living. I'm not afraid to get hurt. 

Take that little Lamb, I'm going with the Tyger on this one.

It Begins Here...

So, school started.

Yeah, that definitely explains the lack of posting. Especially with my insane schedule. We're talking 12+ hours spent on campus. On Tuesday, I have 10 hours of class. No joke.

Not to say I am not enjoying it.

In fact, I would have to say this is one of my best semesters yet. I am actually starting the education program, which means field experience in high/middle schools, which means professional dress, which means SHOPPING! YES!

It's kind of fun to get a taste of what I will actually be doing with my life as an educator. There is so much more that goes into it than I first thought. Did you know that there are four moral dimensions of teacher?

-Enculturate with democracy
-Stewardship over schools
-Create a nurturing pedagogy
-Access to knowledge for all

Who knew? Actually, who even knows what that means? For educators, they sure use poor wording.

Cool New Website for the Week: teenreads.com
It's an excellent source on all young adult novels. It includes lists of popular novels, reviews, bios on authors, info on film adaptations, and a section titled "Cool and New" that keeps you updated on the ever-expanding genre of Young Adult literature. It was highly recommended by the education librarian, so I trust her. Check it out! I like it a lot; the "Cool and New" is especially helpful when looking for new reads.

I'm also taking an adolescent development class. This could mean lots of good things for this blog. We're talking in-depth analysis of my own physical, cognitive, and social development. Hmmm...on second thought, I might keep that to myself. We'll see.

There is also Utah history, a jumble of obvious fun. My teacher seems like she just walked out of the family history center. Truthfully, she probably did. But, the cool thing is that instead of doing a research paper I can use research my own ancestors from Utah. My mom just sent me a couple diaries from my native-Utah grandmother to transcribe. Even though the diaries are from when my grandmother was on her mission in Texas, I am still hoping to incorporate them. So exciting!

I am also taking a post-modern American literature class. There is no better feeling than understanding the rise of post-structuralism. No. Better. Feeling.

So there is a brief synopsis of my new life. If only I could get it all in order!

One last thought,

In my education class, my professor wrote on the board:

English = analysis + synthesis of text.

I thought that was a pretty accurate description. But I came up with a few more:

English =
Life
Passion
Interest
Fundamental
Versitile
Potential
Language and Power
Understanding
Worlds

Any contribution to my list?