Happy Holidays 2010

Aiya--not much for blogging this quarter! We've been swamped and busy with other projects too:

http://galleryofwriting.org/galleries/2374953


Everyone: enjoy 6 weeks of winter break while you can--soon, OU will switch over to semesters.
Those who will be here in 2012 will still have 5 long, long weeks left to write and tutor before a break.

What book to you plan to read over break?

Free Time, Time to Be Free

Hello, OU-C Tutors!

It's amazing how the Thank-Gods-It's-Friday motto takes on so much more meaning when one is a full-time employee. It didn't mean much to me during my years as a student because, well, you never have a day off as a student. But in the "real world" of employment, I am able to clock out, walk out the door, get in my car, drive the blessedly short distance to my apartment, and be safe in the fact that none of my work has followed me home.

Unfortunately, I feel like I have less "free time" than I did as a student. I suppose it's because a student's hours are so blurred around the edges. "I have a paper due at 6, but I can run to the post office at 1:30 and then pick up some milk from the grocery store before coming straight home again to work on my paper." So yes, while there was always an assignment hanging perpetually over my head, I could take a break to do what needed done.

Not so with full-time employment. Ever notice how work hours also seem to be the hours that the rest of the world operates? When can I make a car appointment? When can I go to the post office? Thank goodness Kroger at least is open 24 hours. I do very much appreciate being employed, especially in the economy of the world at this time, but boy, I sure do miss "student hours."

Perhaps I need to buckle down and take fuller advantage of what free time I do have. With 8-10 hours of work per day, plus 8 hours of sleep, that leaves me, what, about 6 hours? Don't ask me—I was never a math tutor. (Derivative. Doo doo doo-doo doo.) Even as I type this, though, I'm a bit amazed that I have that much time, and rather ashamed that I'm not making better use of it.

In at attempt to fix this, I have a few goals for myself.

- aikido—make it to aikido every Friday (I've missed a few Fridays, but in general I have been doing pretty well at driving back to Chillicothe for my class, especially since it coincides with my weekend visit home)

- jujitsu—well, I'd hoped to have the stamina to drive back to Chillicothe every Tuesday evening, get my butt kicked in jujitsu, then either drive back home right away or sleep at mom's and wake up veeery early to return to Springboro for work Wednesday morning. Alas, I have not yet made it to one jujitsu class. Perhaps in my months' absence from the class, I've grown a little afraid of it? A definite possibility. I'm an overweight 31-year-old woman, the [i]only[/i] woman in the class (other than sensei), and I want to pay money for people to throw me around, knock me to the ground, pin me down, and fight me tooth and nail as I try to do the same to them? Yes... it is a little intimidating. But it is also damn fun. I do miss it... and perhaps realizing this, I should try harder to go at least every other week while the weather cooperates with a 2-hour drive. We shall see.

- judo—I've been unable to find a local jujitsu class (I might have to look in surrounding areas—surely there are some to be found in Dayton, but I was hoping to find one in Franklin or Springboro), but I [i]have[/i] found a local judo class, which bears a lot of similarity with jujitsu (judo focuses more on throws, jujitsu focuses more on the groundwork, but both will leave me limping the next day). So to help my emotional and physical health (I always feel so much happier when I'm involved in a regular physical event), I am going to start taking judo lessons from a dojo less than 4 miles from my apartment. I'm both scared and happy :)

- cello—yes, you heard it! I have long been in love with the cello, but I was never able to find lessons in Chillicothe. Ok, so I didn't really look all that hard, but while living in Chillicothe, I didn't have the money to spare for cello lessons, either. I found some private cello lessons in Springboro. Only about $17/week for 30 minutes. I don't mind parting with $68/month if it is for something that I have wanted to do for literally the past 13 years.

All of the above require money—though thankfully, not much of it (I am still on a VERY tight budget as I try to pay some debts off!)—and my leaving the comfort of my apartment to go to a studio or dojo to work with strangers. But what about things to do at home?

- write—I need to write at least a page per night. Progress won't come unless I make it come.

- art—whether drawing, painting, or photography, I need to get back into this. This will also be relieved by my cello lessons and with my martial art classes, but the part of me that wants to create pictures has been ignored for far too long.

- Netflix—damn straight. I love me some Netflix. I don't have cable, but I've been working through some of the television series I've wanted to see. (Those unaccounted-for 6 hours per day? Yeah, well, a lot of them go to Netflix... but that's too much. I was never a long-term t.v. watcher, so I fear falling into that habit if I don't stop it now.)

What was the point of this post? Who knows. Do I ever have a point? ;) I suppose I wanted to give you guys a look into my post-OUC life (it does exist!) and perhaps I wanted to encourage you to budget your time as well. Don't let life pass you by unexplored. As a student, you probably don't have time/money to do all you want now—but do the things you can do for now, and plan on doing the rest for later. Just make sure you DO do them later! (I've been putting off the cello for years, but I registered today for my first private lesson!)

It's never too late to start anew. It's never naive to explore the world with open eyes. And it's never a bad time to say hello to one's former co-workers. Best of luck to you in your studies and future explorations!

And now you're not sure, whether it's coming or just going.

^^ "Plurals" 9/18/2010 ^^

It's a funny thing to just have one day that lasts for months. I've found that sleep and the sense of order that it gives life is something too many take for granted. Rest is like the dead space between images on a roll of film; it gives each frame (or day in this case) a clear context.

After a few months of work/classes/homework/eating/bodily caretaking 20-22 hours a day, you stop being tired all the time. The strange mobius strip feeling continues to roll on through the hours/minutes/moments.

Strangest of all, I've discovered that by micromanaging the number of minutes I can spare for a shower or bowl of soup so as to squeeze in an extra few ounces of sleep, I have more time than I can ever remember. Interesting revelations. Now that I am more saddled with responsibility and schedules than ever before, I am forced to plan so efficiently that I accomplish several times the workload I ever could when faced with large swathes of non-earmarked hours. Things get done like clockwork, and a lot of the stress of last minute rushing has been eliminated simply because my last minute may be a three days prior and I am acutely aware of it.

Even my job has turned out to have unforeseen benefits. You would assume that 6-8 hours 6 nights a week in a factory setting would quickly suck the life from a body when combined with the other complexities of my schedule. Luckily, my work has turned out to be such an automatic experience, my mind is generally free to wander. I construct vivid mental solutions to assignments from the Art Academy–leaving only the fabrication for a later time. I stir precisely drawn melodies internally as I find the words to carve out the details of those melodies character, needing only a paper scrap from a trash bin to serve as a storage device. I was even able to sketch out an entire suite of engagement images for a friend of mine while sorting magazines. It seems the more preoccupied my body, the freer my mind.

Weird.

New Music: www.purevolume.com/halogenlightbulb
New Images: www.halogenphotos.com

PS. Best time of year to be in Chillicothe, enjoy it for me.

prompt writing: tutoring and the magic therein

Being a tutor myself, the idea of analogizing the tutorial arts with the more esoteric practices of "magic" seems a little absurd. That said, I suppose such a comparison might make a little more sense from the point of view of a freshman experiencing first-paper trepidation. In the eyes of such a student, the tutor holds the keys to the deeper mysteries of written rhetoric, or at least knows all of the cheap parlor tricks one needs to dazzle and divert his or her professors, depending upon the level of skepticism in said student; in short, the tutor may be an Aleister Crowley (sans the scandal, one hopes) or a mere Siegfriend-and-Roy.

The Sense of Wonder

Magic has been a form of entertainment for centuries. The Art has been used among hundreds of civilizations for religious, spiritual, academic, and even healing purposes from the Egyptians to the Romans. Today, magic is a popular form of entertainment in the West that many people come across their television screens or possibly in their living room as Uncle Butch shows off the latest card trick he taught himself.
Card magic is a beautiful art form which has been described countless of times by magicians as being the "poetry of conjuring." What makes card magic so impressive and mystifying is that the cunning performer may at any moment manipulate fifty-two, cut-out pasteboards and create a sense of magic, mystery and wonder at his finger tips. However, this brings up an excellent question—which the London Card Expert, Michael Vincent asks his audience—which I now propose to all of you: where exactly does the magic come from? The magician’s hands? His or her performance? Or rather, does magic come from what the audience experiences?
As a conjurer, I would argue that magic comes from the latter. After all, magic is not about what we see; it’s what we think we see. The art is not about “tricking” something or someone but rather using the trick to make someone feel something. That’s the magic; that’s the wonder.
Tutoring has many similar elements. The most important element is interaction. One must interact with their audience with casualness, respect, and even humor. A great magician once noted that if you want to know if you’re a good performer, after four tricks or so, set the deck aside and see if you can spend the next twenty minutes simply talking with your audience (without any magic at all!). If you are successful, no magic is needed because it is already being experienced as the audience is enjoying your company as is. Therefore, when tutoring, one has to build a relationship with the tutee on a certain level where all of the mechanical/grammatical ‘things’ are forgotten and even pass by unnoticed. Just as when the card shark entertains—in its truest form—the sleights and misdirection employed goes unnoticed; thus allowing the miracle to occur.
Try it out, and see how long the tutoring session lasts.
-KJ

Magical Tutoring

As contradictory as this may sound, tutoring is a lot like magic in many ways. Both tutoring and magic can be described as an art form that provides a certain sense of need for its audience. Magic is sought after for its entertainment purposes. It is aimed to create “oohs” and “awes”. Most importantly, magic leaves and brings in audiences for the purpose of “how do they do this or that” and to gain the knowledge of a topic they are not familiar with. When tutoring, the same aspects apply. Tutoring brings in the type of audiences that want to know how to “do this or that”; as well as, to gain knowledge.

Magic/Tutoring?

Tutoring is like magic because:

• To make magic you need an audience.
• You're always working with a full deck.
• It takes lots of practice to be great at it.
• It's not just the tricks in your hat, it's the act that goes with it.
• Sometimes you feel like sawing someone in half.
• Sometimes the magic you have up your sleeve just doesn't work.
• Some adience members refuse to be amazed.
• You might get your head bitten off by a vicious mammal.

Tutoring is Magical??????

If I had a magic wand...tutoring would be easier.

If I had an ace up my sleeve...I would have an answer for everything.

If I had a rabbit in my hat...everyone would leave with an "A" paper.

If I had the ability to make someone disappear...it would be hard to choose: me or the tutee.

If I had a handsome assistant that only wore a glittery vest and bow tie...I would stop tutoring.

Tutoring and magic often make me want to be somewhere else...









LAS VEGAS.

Introducing Fall 2010

Welcome back! We seem to have a lot of students on campus this year and I'm happy to report that the Learning Center has seen at least six request for tutoring on the first two days. Incredible.

As an instructor myself, I see this as a very good indication that students are eager to learn and excel this quarter.

Hope all tutors have a great quarter ahead and will see you this Friday!

Awaiting Fall 2010

Now that we have hit August, it's time to begin full preparations for Fall 2010.

We will have six fabulous tutors returning:
Sarah
Jenelle
Matt
Anita
Kyle
and
Jessica!
These tutors are committed to excellence and will participate in the annual Fall Training and Orientation seminar to be held on Friday, August 13th, 10 am-4 pm.

The Writing Center will also conduct open interviews for tutoring this Fall. If you are interested in tutoring writing, be sure to stop in the LC, pick up an application, and schedule an appointment with Debra Nickles.

If you are not on campus any time soon, but you are still interested in seeing if you meet the requirements, contact Debra Nickles at nickles@ohio.edu for more information.

Ice Cream Social

If you are a reader of this blog 
and you see this post in time, 
do join us for our 

2nd Annual Ice Cream Social 
in the Learning Center from 3-5 PM today.

It's time to celebrate another successful year 
and to bid a few tutors farewell 
as they begin new journeys in their careers!

Poem In Your Pocket Pics

Hi, peeps!

Sorry it took me so long to get these posted--I had another photography project to work on before this one.

Here are some of them; the rest will be coming up soon.

YAWP!

Let us all leave this quarter with a barbaric yawp! One more quarter to go for me! The end of one chapter is near. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I just read a tutee's paper that was a reflection piece. She had a quote from Carl Jung: "Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding about ourselves." This is going to be my new motto. YAWP!

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!!

Sarah! We're all idiots and forgot to wish you a happy birthday! We were so caught up in the Poem-In-A-Pocket craziness... gah!

So from the writing tutors:

*in an obnoxious, off-key chorus*

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOOOOOU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR SARAH...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!

Recessional

Here is poem by Rudyard Kipling, one of only two poets that I really enjoy.

http://www.kipling.org.uk/poems_recess.htm

a personal favorite

My knowledge of poetry is embarrassingly limited (more so for someone who does an occasional scribbling himself). I discovered Pinsky during my stagnant years, at a time when my analytical mind was still too underdeveloped to recognize a difference between style and contrivance, just sharp enough to have good taste regardless. I still enjoy this one.

Robert Pinsky - The Green Piano

Risky Poetry

D*mn psychoanalysis for making poetry so risky to share, lol! Perhaps (and, oh, the irony of even that word!) my favorite poem is an old old old classic linked here.






I hope each of you continue to dare. Dare to sing to the mermaids . . . to disturb the universe . . .

Poetry by Don Paterson

Thanks to all that posted and will post. I think this has been a successful project thus far. Poetry. Poems. Oh, how I fret. I have written quite a few, yet I do not feel like sharing. I am not quite that daring. I think there is a poet in all of us...somewhere.

This is a sonnet about poetry.


Poetry

In the same way that the mindless diamond keeps
one spark of the planet's early fires
trapped forever in its net of ice,
it's not love's later heat that poetry holds,
but the atom of the love that drew it forth
from the silence: so if the bright coal of his love
begins to smolder, the poet hears his voice
suddenly forced, like a bar-room singer's -- boastful
with his own huge feeling, or drowned by violins;
but if it yields a steadier light, he knows
the pure verse, when it finally comes, will sound
like a mountain spring, anonymous and serene.

Beneath the blue oblivious sky, the water
sings of nothing, not your name, not mine.



Copyright 1999 by Don Paterson. All rights reserved.

Poetry = ?

Merriam-Webster has this to say:

"Poetry-a literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm"

With this in mind, I have decided to post the song I am most proud of writing.

It can be heard here

Synapse Fire

Emotion.
He loads his shells into his gun.
He loads his words for everyone
with unappreciated artistry.
Audience.
He looks out at upholstered crowds,
and figures that loitering doubt
tastes good with vacancy.
Discouraged.
There’s no substance to his minor chords,
and all his lyrics can afford
are drunks and apathetic friends; distant relatives.

But still he sketches out his soul in scribbles,
convinced the best mirrors are college ruled.
Synapse fire aimed at legal notepads,
Ammunition built from vocabulary.
Oh, how they’d carry the casualties
out of the range of the microphone;
over the radio.

‘Cause he’s heard the radio has a personality
and he says “I could dream bigger with that kind of reach.
Oh, I’d fill 800 square miles of corn and kidney beans,
and if no one’s listening,
at least I won’t be staring at these empty seats.”

One of my favorite poems...

This is one of my favorite poems which has stuck with me over the years. I love Tennyson's poems and this particular masterpiece of his has an appealling and intriguing metaphor which I think, at some point in our lives, we may all experience. It's an experience of emotion, life, wisdom, and an unyielding drive to a new uncharted horizon which awaits us all.

Enjoy,

-Kyle

Click on the link below to read the poem:

http://www.eecs.harvard.edu/~keith/poems/Ulysses.html

Hello! My name is Jessica. When I found out about this blog posting, I became very excited to see the results of what others would post. The reason for my excitement is due to the fact that I just recently got involved in the world of poetry. Up until a few quarters ago, I tended to stray away from reading or writing poetry. I think one of the reasons for my distance of poetry was because I didn't fully understand it. Like most children, I grew up reading Shel Silverstein and loving every silly poem of his that I could get my hands on. As I grew older, however, poetry didn't seem to entice me anymore. The older I got the more I was led to believe that poetry had to be overly analyzed in order to understand it. After taking a poetry class offered at OU-C, I came to find that this is a common conclusion for many students. We are taught to look at poetry in such depth that the word "poem" sometimes scares us. The act of solely reading a poem for enjoyment can be pushed to the back burner at times. Fortunately, I also learned from this class how to view poetry in a non-threatening way. Poetry has many aspects to it. Poetry can be humorous and silly or sincere and emotional. It is meant to be pleasing to the reader. Thanks to that class and the instructor, I now see poetry in a brand new light. I actually find satisfaction in not only reading poems but writing them too. A year ago I would have never dreamt of saying these words let alone reading poems on my own free will.
Now, I am not a seasoned poet by any means. I am an amateur in every way. Even though this is the case for me, I am going to share a poem I wrote. It was the first poem that I had ever written outside of middle school. While I am nervous about posting something personal, I am also excited. Since I am new to the Writing Center, I selected this poem to give insight into who I am. I thought this poem would be a great way to introduce myself.
I suggest other students give this type of personal poetry, maybe even this exact format, a try. Believe me it really is interesting and fun to see what you come up with. It is also a simple, yet wonderful, way to test the waters of your poetry skills (for amateurs like me) ; ). Here it is-- enjoy!

Origins
I am from hand-me-down clothes,
Reebok shoes and line-drying.
I am from shutters trimmed in green paint,
A wooden porch swing stained and hanging
Always in use during the spring and summer months.

I am from weeping willow trees
And patches of daisies,
Both reminders of the internal
And external splendor of my mother.

I am from hunts for the perfect live Christmas tree,
Hiking trails and camping trips.
I am from McKinnis' and Henson's,
Margaret and Mabel,
Loving, thoughtful, and from the heart.

I am from fairytales and bedtime stories,
Nightly tuck-ins and "don't let the bedbugs bite".
I am from family get-togethers--
Cousins, aunts and uncles included.

I am from "never met a stranger"
And "use your imagination".
I am from saying your prayers before you eat;
"God doesn't judge and neither should you";
"Love thy neighbor even when you don't want to".

I am from tea parties with my mom,
"Would you like crumpets with that?"
Concerts with my dad,
Occasional meet-n-greets with the bands.

I am from Columbus, Ohio,
A mixed breed--
German, Cherokee Indian, Dutch, and Irish.
I am from Bratwurst and Sauerkraut,
Peanut butter and pickle sandwiches.

I am from Sunday dinners,
Tuesday family game nights.
I am from scrapbooks of pictures
Beautifully displayed for all to see.

I am from unconditional love
And eternal family bonds.
I am from those moments--
A patch from the family quilt,
Held together by stitches of memories,
Another added every day.

Slam Poetry!

Thank you, Deb! I didn't even think about posting slam poetry, but your post reminded me of it. I absolutely love slam poetry. Go to YouTube and do a search for it... there are thousands to choose from. I'm posting links to two of my favorites. I apologize ahead of time for some (possibly) offensive language.

• Untitled by Anis Mojgani (this performance won him the 2005 Slam Nationals)
• "Nothing is for Nothing" by Jill Scott (on Def Jam Poetry)

Let me know what you think!

Life's Tragedy

Please click here to read this beautifully written inspirational Poem.

Sanity

Falling off a cliff
screaming, the abyss calls you
failing to awake


I like haiku, it calls to me.

Political Poetry

Not my favorite, but I gotta share:

Patricia Smith

Read, but be sure to scroll to the bottom and check out her "Skinhead."

Last night, on the flood wall, east end, I noted "KKK" marked in black letters sprayed on the asphalt and folks just jogging past . . .

One of my favorite poems

Several years ago, a very good friend of mine introduced me to a poem that has taken time to become one of my favorites. When I first read this poem I was not impressed. The horses, the seemingly corny language, the presumption of the author that he knows how animals feel... I just didn't like it. But the last three lines of the poem are heart-wrenchingly perfect, and I eventually came around to the rest of the poem. It has grown on me over the years, and I've learned to look past the overt subject matter, which is the primary reason that I initially didn't identify with the poem, and think of it in terms of experience. The few times in my life in which I have had experiences that give me that free floating, soaking-it-all-in feeling have been hard to describe and even harder to re-create. Wright describes his experience in a way that inspires me to keep trying to describe mine.

A Blessing
by James Wright

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

A blog about blogging

I found a great website! It's a random blog topic generator. You pick the category and click a button, and it generates a topic for you. The category options are: All, Opinion, Health, Religion, Science, Art, World, Music, Business, Personal, Technology, People, and Recreation. I chose to leave it on "all." Here are the first 5 blog topics that I received:

• Math or English?
• Getting your first job
• History of football
• Altering photo colors in photoshop
• Using public restrooms

While the last one is tempting, I think the topic would quickly go down the toilet. Pardon the pun. So, I will talk about the first one, which is a topic that is near and dear to my heart.

I am (or was, I guess I should say) an English major. For me, reading is abundantly more entertaining and enjoyable than watching TV. Alternately, math makes me feel like I am drowning. I sit and listen, focusing intently, and yet I inevitably reach the point at which everything being said loses all meaning. So I took the required math classes, one of which I would have most certainly failed if not for the professor's generous curve, and shouted with joy the day that I realized that I would never have to worry about a math grade again (the GRE wasn't on my radar back then). And I continued on my merry English way.

People that love math actually confound me. I am glad there are people out there who actually enjoy it, but I cannot even begin to comprehend that frame of mind. My brother-in-law has been out of school for about 10 years, but he sits and does calculus at home for fun. Insane!!!

So, if I haven't made myself clear, let me reiterate: I love English, but math is the devil.

(Good thing none of the math tutors read this blog...)

Hold on while I try to think of a title...

Hello :) Hmm... I really don't know what to write about, but I feel bad that I haven't blogged for a few weeks. I just had to put on my hoodie, not because I'm cold but because I'm a bit self-conscious about my bruises from ju-jitsu class. I re-bruised a bruise from last week that was fading to yellow-green, but now it's a lovely mauve color with a background of yellow-green. I have a doozy forming on my elbow; it's deep purple and hasn't fully formed yet, so it's deep. Once it comes to the surface, it'll either be dark or big... or both. While grappling in ju-jitsu, we're supposed to grab each other's gis for take-downs or throws, but occasionally we accidently grab sleeve and skin rather than fabric alone. I think that's what happened to me last night. Oh well. Injuries of all kinds come with the territory.

I've gained a few pounds this past week thanks to Easter over-indulgence. Ugh. Hate it. I was doing well with at least maintaining my current weight if not losing, but with the gain I am now shifting my focus back to losing. Adding karate to my weekly martial art classes might help, too. And bike riding. I've really been wanting to get back into bike riding.

Four more weeks of grad school. I'm sort of overwhelmed with stuff that needs done, especially since a healthy case of senioritis has set in. My motivation waxes and wanes. I want to be done, but in order to be done, I have to do stuff. I don't wanna do stuff. I want to ride my bike, and read what I want, and take walks, and draw, and garden.

The finish line is in sight... but I am questioning the reserves of strength that will get me there.

What happened to the blog jar?

As I was pondering topics for my mandatory blog, I noticed that the blog jar was missing! This makes brainstorming ideas for my blog a bit more difficult!

My only source of inspiration right now is the honest sky, the toasty sun, and the sweet breeze that is all around. This breathtaking weather is certainly boosting my psyche after a long episode of the winter blahs! The last thing I want to do is to sit in an OULN cave (no windows) for my Linguistics class. Sadly, this is where I'll be at 3:10--at least physically. Mentally I'll be lying in a hammock half asleep with sunglasses on and a copy of a book of MY choice. It's been so long since I've read one of those that I don't even know what the book would be...but it would be something...good.

This time of the year, being so inspiring, would be a wonderful time to write, paint, or do any of the other activities I never have time to do anymore. I'm not complaining though! Every second I get the chance to I've been spending outside in the sun reading for my classes!

I love the 80s--and not just the decade--the temperatures too! :)

A Publishing Friend

A publishing friend of mine will be doing some serious work for Writer's Digest, which is writer's community focused on getting people published: Check it Out.

The Writing Center website

I think Caleb has done an outstanding job! The only thing that is missing is Deb's picture next to her bio! hmmm.

Spring quarter and Spring thus far...

It has been ok. I am enjoying my lighter than usual course load of only three classes! This will give me time to take Cameron to baseball practices and games and continue on HIS goal of fishing almost every other day! I am keeping track of the places we have fished and the amount of time we stay. After only two weeks, I have logged over 30 hours of fishing time! Yowza! Perhaps I should stop logging my time??

Over Spring Break I read Cion by Zakes Mda. He is a professor at OU-Athens. It was interesting and overall a good story. It only took me two or three fishing sessions to read it! That is a monumental step in my, almost nonexistent, "pleasure" reading escapades.

Hope all who read this had a relaxing Spring Break. Everyone deserves a break.

(post 1 of 2 for the quarter)...yeah baby.

Haitian Culture

Artwork, native fruits, banana bark basket, textiles and Haitian money. Take a glimpse into Haiti.

Anita & Matt

My Favorite Toy...

(I would have responded to this days and days ago but I couldn't figure out what my password was!)

Like Julie, I was also poor when I was little, but also blissfully unaware. My favorite toy when I was a child was my imagination.

While anything related to horses enamoured me, and anything small with wheels was fun to roll around, what fascinated me more was that those little toy horses were an intricate family and had herd issues as they galloped over the plains of the kitchen floor. My little Garfield in a jeep (one of the best McDonald's toys EVAR!), with its reliable 4x4 system, could easily tackle the rocks, hills, and valleys created by the blankets on my bed.

I also spent a lot of time outside. Though I can appreciate the convenience of living in a city, I have always been a country girl--and one of my favorite cartoons was David the Gnome. Oh, how I loved going out into the forest--or even simply into our front yard!--to climb trees, "talk" to animals and nature, and explore all the great world has to offer (or at least "all" that a small, shy girl can get to).

I am 30 now, and my imagination is still my favorite toy. I write and create art. I imagine ways to decorate my living space. And on some days, I still find shapes in the clouds and hear the trees whispering to me.

My favorite toy...

I loved my legos. I would spend hours just quietly building, tearing apart, and rebuilding, even up into my early teen years. Legos are the perfect toy for an overly imaginative child.

Favorite Toy

We were kind of poor when I was little… government cheese, shopping at thrift stores for new school clothes, health department doctors and dentists… the whole bit. Fortunately, I was a very happy child, blissfully unaware of what we didn’t have. I remember Christmas mornings very clearly. We were fortunate enough to get actual presents, but stockings were a different story. Our stockings were actually Dad’s old tube socks that Santa would fill with apples, oranges, rolls of pennies, packs of Wrigley’s gum, and various other cheap gifts, and I can still remember the joy of turning that sock upside down and feeling the contents slide out against the cloth underneath my hand, and being inordinately happy to have, all to myself, those things that were usually kept in the kitchen and shared.

So, obviously, you won’t expect me to say that my favorite toy was my pricey princess power wheels car (how's that for alliteration?) or my shiny blue huffy bike with streamers or my red ryder bb gun. In fact, I actually don’t remember getting any one toy that I was just nuts about. The thing that stands out most in my mind is being in third grade and getting a wonderfully, beautifully, inspirationally blank hardback book. It was all white. White cover, white binding, white pages with no restrictive lines. I was thrilled beyond belief. The options were almost crippling. I fantasized for months about what to do with this book. Journal?—too risky. Sketchbook?—too informal. Book?—perfect, of course. So I agonized for a few more months about what to write, until I finally decided that I would just set the book aside and save for a really (really) great idea.

I eventually did write a children’s book and had a friend of mine illustrate it for me. It was a lovely process. But I think I had that blank book for several years before actually taking action. I’m sure there’s potential there for some meaningful life metaphor… something about indecision or potential or something. But I’ll keep my theories to myself and leave some room for your own psychoanalysis.

What I do know is that there is still nothing quite as satisfying as a fresh, blank notebook, a smooth ball point pen, and a mind swirling with ideas.

My favorite toy was..

my lion. It really wasn't a toy but more of a security "blankie." Truthfully, I cannot remember a toy that I ever received that really excited me. Well, except my BOB, but that is another story entirely! It was the one stuffed animal that I protected with my life. My mother actually received this lion on my behalf during her baby shower. Yes, that means my lion is creeping up on 31 years of age!

My lion and I have been through many difficult times over the years. I would swing him by his tail like a helicopter, and during one of his "flights," he lost an eye--never to be found again. :( My sisters would make fun of my lion, saying that I was too old to have a stuffed animal. Little did I know that they each had their own! My eldest sister, Jen, still has her teddy bear (he is totally blind--lost both eyes). Her teddy is rounding the bend to 37 years of age!

Although Jen and I are closest out of all three of my sisters, she was the one that tormented me the most. Some time during elementary, I decided I no longer needed my lion. I got the kitchen scissors and proceeded to cut him up into pieces. I laid him down nicely on the top of the trash can and walked away. When my mom came home from work she became hysterical. I think my sister caught a beat-down that she deserved! hehehehe. (Side note: Our beat-downs came in the form of wooden spoons and/or the almighty fly swatter!)

Perhaps needless to say, my mother came to my lion's rescue and sewed him up. I was very happy to have him back, even if he had "stitches" of every color of the rainbow. He now resides in my sock drawer, scented by fabric softener sheets. I see him every morning, or at least the mornings I choose to put clean socks on! ha! My lion is so disfigured, my grandpa has called him a squirrel for many, many years. It used to make me very angry. Over the years, I have gained confidence in my self and the fact that I openly love my lion-squirrel.

My Favorite Toy as a Child

One Christmas, 1978, perhaps, I received my first art studio--well, actually, a yellow-plastic Crayola turntable. This glorious artistic wheel held a tower of 64 crayons,  8 markers, 16 color pencils, 8 water colors, and 3 paint jars in primary colors. Paper not included. Paired with the Spirograph that year, the world was at my finger tips . . .

What was your favorite toy as a child?

Winner of the Fall Writing Contest

The Writing Center is pleased to announce the winner of the 2010 Fall Writing Contest: Turning Points. Tracy Pederson, a current nursing student, won a first place gift card worth $75.00 to the OU-C Book Store with her submission "The Great Bear Hunt."



Congratulations, Tracy!

Of Snow and Studies

I'm so glad that good ol' Jack Frost has blown in our direction! My evening class is canceled! Now I have all evening to snuggle under my electric blanket and finish the novel I'm reading for African American Literature, Alfred French's Billy. I'm approximately 1/3 of the way through it so far, and it's definitely a page-turner! (Which is good because there was an assignment due on the novel yesterday!) Like other African American literature I've read, I really enjoy the book's use of dialect, candid, unsentimental tone, and the way it stirs up emotions about true-to-life happenings! I'm looking forward to reading Toni Morrison this quarter as well.

Definitions

I am currently enrolled in online Human Geography course. I was surprised when I realized all homework will consist of definitions. However, after looking things up in the handy-dandy glossary, I suppose it makes me concentrate on the key terms. Here is a new one that I thought some people may enjoy. It makes sense to me.

Deb, this is for you!

Ecofeminism: A new doctrine proposing that women are inherently better environmental preservationists than men because the traditional roles of women involved creating and nurturing life, whereas the traditional roles of men too often necessitated death and destruction.

....any thoughts....

2 blog entries, I'm on a roll...I think this is more than I typed all last quarter.

Winter break and other stuff

First off, my break was nice; although, I was not ready to come back. I can officially say that I will be graduating this year! Woooohooo! After this quarter I will have three classes and student teaching. I am taking a couple courses in Lancaster this quarter. I like the teachers, but the snowy drive leaves a bit to be desired; good thing I got new tires the end of November.

Now for the funny story: yesterday evening I backed out of my garage PRIOR to opening the garage door. OOPS! The door is stuck. I have been housing a friend's old corvette and we had to push that out of the other garage bay and then do a lot of maneuvering to get my car out. It was quite the scene. The end. I know that there are far worse things that could have happened to me. Over winter break I have learned NOT to sweat the small stuff. A lot of the "stuff" we think is disastrous really isn't. My advice to all: Keep things in perspective; everything can always be WORSE!

I am keeping my eye on the prize and looking forward to graduation.

Jr Comp Exam Info

It's that time again! Students may take an exemption/waiver exam for the junior level (J Course) composition course requirement. The exam is a two-hour timed essay based on a provided text. You must register in person between 9:00 AM Monday, January 4th and 4:00 PM Friday, January 8th at the OU-C Writing Center. To take the Junior exam, you must have 90 credit hours or more and have successfully completed your first-year writing requirement (English 151 or equivalent). You may take the exam only one time.