Wednesday, September 26, 2012

the second beginning

Time to start writing every day. What kind of journalist doesn't write every day? (I'm not a real journalist. I don't even know what I am. I'm just testing out a few different titles for myself. Journalist is it today, folks.) 

I prefer writing in I-voice. I always have. It's either that or free-verse, or a combination of the two. When I was younger I would try to emulate my favorite authors. I read more than anything else. Extensively and ecstatically. I gobbled up the words and added a sprinkle of speed and comprehension. It's a wonderfully exciting time of life; to realize that words mean something and to understand them as a whole, and then as you get into the higher grades, you realize that you can make them say what you want them to say. YOU can write those books and you can put words on paper that mean something, and all of it builds on each other. Each step leads towards something more exciting. A letter, a word, a sentence. Then a picture book, then a chapter book, then a novel. Then another letter, a word of your own, and the beginnings of a book...then the branches of the literary tree start jutting out in every direction, with buds and leaves and blossoms of provocative thought and the ability to express it on paper. 
But I'm getting carried away with this whole writing and reading thing. 
"Hi, I'm Carlie, and I'm a music journalist for [insert name of hip and happening publication here]"
How does that sound? I'm still deciding. But who said I had to decide today?

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Stupor of thought?

These past couple of weeks have been some of my strangest. I started school again. I signed up for all of the classes I need for my major, and some other classes that aren't for my major. (Those blasted general eds will be the end of me, I just know it.) I've also sat awake on a couple of occasions, feeling like I'm doing everything wrong and wondering if I'm on the right path. I've been feeling stuck, like I can't figure out where I'm supposed to go.

I'm halfway to my associates degree, and then who knows where I'll be? I can't see the end. I know there's a path, but I'm struggling with the fact that I can't see the destination. I only see a hazy horizon line, and a few giant, general images in the clouds. My laundry list: graduation, marriage, children, job, live life. The details are hazy. The road signs are in a different language. (Probably Italian, because I'm in that class right now, so my subconscious says, "Italian. They should be in Italian.")

I feel like I should take some steps back, but then when I do that, the vision is even further away. Perhaps the answer, instead of taking a step back and seeing the big picture, is to focus on the small pictures in front of me right here and right now. Perhaps I should focus on the steps forward instead.

Or maybe I should just get rid of all of these metaphors.