Fall Semester Outtakes (III)

Morning view of Auditorium
(on way to Writing Center)










Live Oak Trees
(Front Campus)











Curves Ahead
(Front Campus)













Hanging of the Green(s)
(Front Campus)

Fall Semester Outtakes (II)

Hats on Parade
(Macon, GA)












Fancy Lunch
(still in Macon)












Birthday(s)













& a Baby Shower

Fall Semester Outtakes (I)

Blackbird Coffee
(downtown Milledgeville)

Coffee Mosaic
(Blackbird bathroom)












Special Dinner Guest
(Courtesy of Oliver)












Scrabble Mosaic
(Melissa's Place)

Re-packing

which is at least three times worse than packing and unpacking.


Packing: You take a set amount of "stuff" and move it somewhere else...in my case, it was a "carload" and it was 500 miles.

Unpacking: Removing all of the "stuff" and setting it up to make a live-able space...in my case, it took a few days for me to remove everything from my car and haul it upstairs in the 100+ degree heat (but it happened).

Between unpacking and where I am today (re-packing) I have gained more stuff. Via trips homes and trips to Walmart (and/or Amazon.com).

My original carload of "stuff" seems to have multiplied...overnight? No, in the span of ten lovely months.

Because I am moving into a new place in August, I have to re-pack and store items while I am at home for (50 or so days)...obviously I can't "tote" my probably 2 carloads worth of stuff back and forth again...

Re-Packing: One classmate offered up storage containers. Another classmate offered up storage space. With such wonderful classmates, how can I complain? No complaints. Just a lot of planning.

I've already "made" a few bins worth of "winter" clothes (big laugh, there is no Winter in Georgia) and fancy teaching clothes (not needed yet). Alongside books and papers and more books and papers.

I went through my foodstuffs over the weekend and pulled everything out, placing them in full view. My goal is to save money and eat the remainder of what I've always decided to pass over during the last two semesters.

Example of a good idea gone wrong: Brown rice and a can of "Asian" vegetables (baby corn, bamboo shoots, sprouts, water chestnuts)....NOT delicious at ALL! I put my leftovers in a container I'll throw away.

Any ideas for garbanzo beans, cannellini beans, artichoke hearts, macaroni & cheese, Spanish rice, a jar of basil tomato sauce...???

The beans and rice and sauce as a...soup? I'll let you know what happens there.

I can't pack kitchen paraphernalia yet. I'm staring at a rather empty closet and bathroom. it's so weird to be living in such an empty place. I want to jump into my car and drive away.

The days are SOOOOOOO long.

~~J

The Lonely Writer

Young Woman Reading, Mary Cassatt 1876

I've heard the stories/read about the method: retreats, workshops, cabins in the woods, hotel rooms, unplugging, uninstalling...all the means of self-imposed isolation in attempts to create art.

In fact, I watched a short documentary last night and learned that Van Gogh stayed in an asylum for a year because he was able to paint daily without much interruption (and it was cheaper than staying in a hotel).

Being in a (mostly) empty college town for several weeks is not the same thing--this isolation is not self-imposed, it has been forced upon me.

At least that's my non-writing excuse. Sure, there are notecards with my character names, birth and death years now in existence. Yes, I have a strong idea for the second story in my thesis...BUT...

Why am I NOT writing?

boredom? lack of stimulation? loneliness? no schedule? no deadlines?

A combination of ALL OF THE ABOVE?

Or better yet, do I have no clue as to what I am doing? Am I lacking ideas, motivation, (gulp) talent? (Only "an artist" would say such a thing, I think I'm okay.)

I'll be back in the bluff city soon enough. Maybe the Mississippi River is more responsible for my mystical arts than I realized (Mark Twain would agree).

Then I can "force" myself into isolation--which is completely different than being bored to tears...believe me.

~~J

EDIT: All I can think about now after titling this post is THIS POEM by Anne Sexton...which means you have to go read it too.