Well, what can I say. Today was a pretty good day for me. I have to start off saying that I love my job this summer. We had a "fundatory" meeting at Playtime Pizza. The first half of my day was spent devouring pizza, chugging soda, tasting ice cream, shooting lasers, and sitting on the toilet (yes, I had to share that lol). Anyway, I got a chance to hang out with my coworkers in a very comfortable environment. I even got a chance to see some competitive spirit in some coworkers, which surprised me. Before our first game, the staff member challenged us to score at least 800 points. If we had achieved that goal, we would be granted a free game. Well guess what? Three of us scored over 800 with yours truly scoring 912 points. I was pretty happy with that one. The second game wasn't as amazing, but still pretty good.
Although I had a pretty amazing time with my coworkers, my day was made when I hung out with my former AP literature teacher. Yes, I hung out with my English teacher.
She wanted to take both me and my former roommate to dinner. It was amazing. She treated us to a dinner at Red Lobster. But, before we even left the building she gave both of us a check for $100 each. The reason behind my misty eyes is that I currently have a phone bill very, VERY late. Pretty much, the check will pay for my phone bill, and I can text again (Yes, every college student's dream.). When we got to dinner, she explained that it was okay to bring out our alter-ego, the broke college student, because she would be taking care of dinner. She's awesome like that.
Talking to her made me realize how much I've grown, not only personally but intellectually as well. We talked about the good ol' days where I sat in her class dumbfounded on how to start my next paper or how to cope with crap of a paper that I produced. It all seemed like yesterday, but we both (my roommate and I) knew that significant time had passed. Here we are three years later talking to the lady who opened our minds with a spark of elegance, wisdom, class, and scholarship.
I have to say from eating pizza with coworkers to eating shrimp scampi with a fellow scholar and our mentor, today was a good day!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Music and Writing
I guess I should use this distraction to distract me from cleaning my room. Really, it's just my kitchen I have to clean: my archnemesis. I despise it really. The stack of dishes that have conspired against. Half of them seem clean; the other half dirty. While I listen to my iTunes cleaning playlist, I see this story about a young boy battling caked grease and left over food with his superpowers: soap, hot water, and lemon juice.
This isn't the first time that this has happened. I create stories to the rhythm of the songs. I've noticed this coorelation between writing and music; well, I've noticed it in my writing. Growing up, I've been told that nothing else should be going on while writing in school. With many of the things that they taught me, I've grown to appreciate this foundation. I consider myself a musical writer, only because I use music to help my writing.
I always loved music. It always provided some kind of emotional escape or emotional evocation that is involved with writing. Especially for personal usage, writing can be a very therapeutic. If we are writing about our emotions and feelings, why not truly tap into those feelings with music of the same emotional appeal. I don't think any of this made sense until my senior year of high school. In an earlier post, I mentioned my AP literature teacher. She first introduced me to the concept of being a musical writer. When my mentor died, she wanted us to pour our emotions into whatever we writing. Because we were facing a great loss, the atmosphere (music she played) was extremely depressed. Now, I think I understand why decided to use that method. In our society today, music seems to be everywhere. You hear music while shopping, eating, even television shows have music to them. My question is why not writing?
I like to believe that being in band for six years and having a mother who was in band herself has helped me easily access the "pathos" taught as one of the appeals in argument, or in this case, writing. Yes, writing your own feelings is a great thing, but to write while living in the emotion has got to be something powerful. For me, I found that while I'm listening I'm allowed to explore this stream of consciousness. Whatever, I'm feeling falls onto the paper. There's no need to mess with raw creativity at this stage, at least not for me. When the revising stage occurs, there is so much to shape and mold into eloquent, powerful rhetoric. What more can I ask for?
This isn't the first time that this has happened. I create stories to the rhythm of the songs. I've noticed this coorelation between writing and music; well, I've noticed it in my writing. Growing up, I've been told that nothing else should be going on while writing in school. With many of the things that they taught me, I've grown to appreciate this foundation. I consider myself a musical writer, only because I use music to help my writing.
I always loved music. It always provided some kind of emotional escape or emotional evocation that is involved with writing. Especially for personal usage, writing can be a very therapeutic. If we are writing about our emotions and feelings, why not truly tap into those feelings with music of the same emotional appeal. I don't think any of this made sense until my senior year of high school. In an earlier post, I mentioned my AP literature teacher. She first introduced me to the concept of being a musical writer. When my mentor died, she wanted us to pour our emotions into whatever we writing. Because we were facing a great loss, the atmosphere (music she played) was extremely depressed. Now, I think I understand why decided to use that method. In our society today, music seems to be everywhere. You hear music while shopping, eating, even television shows have music to them. My question is why not writing?
I like to believe that being in band for six years and having a mother who was in band herself has helped me easily access the "pathos" taught as one of the appeals in argument, or in this case, writing. Yes, writing your own feelings is a great thing, but to write while living in the emotion has got to be something powerful. For me, I found that while I'm listening I'm allowed to explore this stream of consciousness. Whatever, I'm feeling falls onto the paper. There's no need to mess with raw creativity at this stage, at least not for me. When the revising stage occurs, there is so much to shape and mold into eloquent, powerful rhetoric. What more can I ask for?
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Wisdom
As part of my thirty challenge, I wanted to read books that would make me think about the human condition. While perusing through my personal collection of books that house philosophical revelations and fictional adventures, I stumbled upon a book that has possess my interest and time like a child playing with a new toy way after his bedtime. For anyone who wants social justice and freedom in the world, especially in our nation, I urge you to read Can You Hear Me Now? by Michael Eric Dyson. He discusses many problems with our nation mainly dealing with the attitudes towards the underpriviliged and the discriminated. He talks about faith and spirit, love and relationships, homosexuality and homophobia, literature, learning, and literature, and wisdom.
One of the things that I find uplifting and quite inspirational is Dyson's backstory. Dyson received a Bachelor's degree in Philosophy from Carson-Newman College. He graduated magna cum laude and went on to receive both his Master's and Doctorate degree in religion from Princeton.
What is, perhaps, the most inspirational to me is his struggle with faith. Through readings of the french existentialist philosopher Jean Satre, Dyson followed a path of atheism. He talked his feelings through with his pastor. His pastor's advice: let it run its course. One year of living drove Dyson back into his Christian beliefs deeper than before. This background made me thirsty to read his views on wisdom. With reading the prior chapters, I was hungry for what the influential intellectual had to say. This book is filled with quotes; some have even made my facebook status and several comments. But, here are the two quotes:
1) "Mature men temper strength with wisdom and know how to share power."
2) "One of the reasons we suffer is because we ignore the wisdom of our women."
I feel wisdom is something that comes from an experience. Many people associate gaining wisdom only by means of growing older. Well, I have come across some old people where wisdom has not even touched the tip of their mind. I mean if wisdom only comes from old people then how do you explain young people displaying wise advice. For example, Tupac never reached thirty but had others thinking about his poems and lyrics. He discussed a wisdom that only came from living through his experience. He talked about gangsters finding God but dealing the drugs in the streets. I wonder are these things mutually exclusive? Can a gangster inadvertently find God by dealing drugs in the streets where at a moment's notice a drug deal can go wrong? Maybe, but I don't have the knowledge or wisdom to know.
But, the second statement really resonates the most. Women are such a vital aspect of our society in order for us to thrive. Think about it; countries where the women are uneducated suffer more economically. Women live through so many things. I feel like there's a connection that women are able to tap into. It's powerful. I'm not saying all women are wise, but most have a tendency to have some pretty sound advice. It boils down to respect though. If we respect others' experiences, we could tap into a connection that could bring our society to a better place. I implore you to implore to know wisdom. Can you be mature enough to temper strength and wisdom? Will you not ignore the sage wisdom of our women?
Take the steps to be a better person in order to create miles filled with better people!
One of the things that I find uplifting and quite inspirational is Dyson's backstory. Dyson received a Bachelor's degree in Philosophy from Carson-Newman College. He graduated magna cum laude and went on to receive both his Master's and Doctorate degree in religion from Princeton.
What is, perhaps, the most inspirational to me is his struggle with faith. Through readings of the french existentialist philosopher Jean Satre, Dyson followed a path of atheism. He talked his feelings through with his pastor. His pastor's advice: let it run its course. One year of living drove Dyson back into his Christian beliefs deeper than before. This background made me thirsty to read his views on wisdom. With reading the prior chapters, I was hungry for what the influential intellectual had to say. This book is filled with quotes; some have even made my facebook status and several comments. But, here are the two quotes:
1) "Mature men temper strength with wisdom and know how to share power."
2) "One of the reasons we suffer is because we ignore the wisdom of our women."
I feel wisdom is something that comes from an experience. Many people associate gaining wisdom only by means of growing older. Well, I have come across some old people where wisdom has not even touched the tip of their mind. I mean if wisdom only comes from old people then how do you explain young people displaying wise advice. For example, Tupac never reached thirty but had others thinking about his poems and lyrics. He discussed a wisdom that only came from living through his experience. He talked about gangsters finding God but dealing the drugs in the streets. I wonder are these things mutually exclusive? Can a gangster inadvertently find God by dealing drugs in the streets where at a moment's notice a drug deal can go wrong? Maybe, but I don't have the knowledge or wisdom to know.
But, the second statement really resonates the most. Women are such a vital aspect of our society in order for us to thrive. Think about it; countries where the women are uneducated suffer more economically. Women live through so many things. I feel like there's a connection that women are able to tap into. It's powerful. I'm not saying all women are wise, but most have a tendency to have some pretty sound advice. It boils down to respect though. If we respect others' experiences, we could tap into a connection that could bring our society to a better place. I implore you to implore to know wisdom. Can you be mature enough to temper strength and wisdom? Will you not ignore the sage wisdom of our women?
Take the steps to be a better person in order to create miles filled with better people!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Complete and Utter Bull
I have recently had to tell myself this. The way that I have lived has been complete and utter bull. I'll admit; I have been lazy with almost every facet of my life. I wanted to change. I believe the key to my change was a challenge. I have taken it upon a thirty day challenge. I wanted to take these thirty days and simply reflect upon who I am as a person. I have special skills that I wanted to develop and hone; my writing is one. As a writing consultant, I often find myself telling people that writing isn't something that is only good when inspired, yet I only write when I feel a burst of creativity fill my veins.
I decided that I would find something to write about as often as I can. There is so much to write about in the world: my life, experiences, and feelings. If I am going to reach that dream of becoming a professional writer, I should probably get in the groove of writing regularly.
Part of growing up is letting go of childish behaviors. I was never a chronically disobient child, but I had a tendency to procastinate (in my case, it was not doing at all). This revelation hit me at the end of May when I had a conversation with my mom. Why is it that they always have a way of making you see things clearly (LOVE YA, MOM)? This time last summer, I didn't have a job nor was I trying to find one. My excuse, "I'm tired." "I just went through a year of school; I'm taking a break." A break is always nice, but I don't have the luxury of sitting around. I can do that at some point when I'm rich.
So as I go through this shedding process, I say that old life was complete and utter bull. At the end of my challenge, I will be more proactive and possess what my mom heard many times when she was young "some get it up and go about myself."
Here's to willpower!
I decided that I would find something to write about as often as I can. There is so much to write about in the world: my life, experiences, and feelings. If I am going to reach that dream of becoming a professional writer, I should probably get in the groove of writing regularly.
Part of growing up is letting go of childish behaviors. I was never a chronically disobient child, but I had a tendency to procastinate (in my case, it was not doing at all). This revelation hit me at the end of May when I had a conversation with my mom. Why is it that they always have a way of making you see things clearly (LOVE YA, MOM)? This time last summer, I didn't have a job nor was I trying to find one. My excuse, "I'm tired." "I just went through a year of school; I'm taking a break." A break is always nice, but I don't have the luxury of sitting around. I can do that at some point when I'm rich.
So as I go through this shedding process, I say that old life was complete and utter bull. At the end of my challenge, I will be more proactive and possess what my mom heard many times when she was young "some get it up and go about myself."
Here's to willpower!
Saturday, June 4, 2011
The Beginning
Writing never seemed like something I would want to do. In high school, I took honor English courses, but I was never thrilled about writing, especially when you only hear and see the things you're doing wrong. At that time, I was still trying to find my voice in the world. I didn't know how to do that exactly. I grew up in an environment where my concern was taking care of those around me and not necessarily myself. My living situation wasn't ideal for me, but I definitely had it better than most. I faced some personal demons, and I had no way to overcome them.
It wasn't until my senior year of high school where I started to better my writing. I was in Advanced Placement (AP) literature with Mrs. Minnis who acquired the moniker Minnis the Menace. She was the type of teacher that made you hate her class when you were taking it, but gain so much appreciation for it afterwards. She always pushed me to be better than I was the day before. I reached a very critical point of my senior year where I got stressed with finals and AP exams approaching. In the midst of this crisis, my mentor of three years passed away. I sat in the class full of so many emotions and no way to express them aside from crying. She played sad, droopy music where it evoked a deeper cleansing. Yes, we cried heavily and snot flowed from our noses. We had lost a great educator, mentor, and person.
This loss caused me to push my writing further because I had to deliver a speech at his ceremony. In doing so, I found a passion for writing that I never felt before. Three years later, I found myself entering my senior year. I am excited I'm finishing up both of my degree programs. I will be graduation soon with a Bachelor degree in Professional & Technical Writing and also a Bachelor degree in English with a minor in Secondary Education.
It wasn't until my senior year of high school where I started to better my writing. I was in Advanced Placement (AP) literature with Mrs. Minnis who acquired the moniker Minnis the Menace. She was the type of teacher that made you hate her class when you were taking it, but gain so much appreciation for it afterwards. She always pushed me to be better than I was the day before. I reached a very critical point of my senior year where I got stressed with finals and AP exams approaching. In the midst of this crisis, my mentor of three years passed away. I sat in the class full of so many emotions and no way to express them aside from crying. She played sad, droopy music where it evoked a deeper cleansing. Yes, we cried heavily and snot flowed from our noses. We had lost a great educator, mentor, and person.
This loss caused me to push my writing further because I had to deliver a speech at his ceremony. In doing so, I found a passion for writing that I never felt before. Three years later, I found myself entering my senior year. I am excited I'm finishing up both of my degree programs. I will be graduation soon with a Bachelor degree in Professional & Technical Writing and also a Bachelor degree in English with a minor in Secondary Education.
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