...on teaching...

...so much for daily entries...!

What keeps me from doing this? I certainly enjoy it, as a creative release among other things, but why has a week gone by, and nothing? Barely a scribbled note in one of my books! The title of this entry says it all...teaching. School is back in sessions, and I , being a teacher, have things to do. Never being an organized person leads me not to a lack of responsibility, but to spending far too much time on preparation, planning, and general angst to do anything else. Naturally, frustration mounts, and must be released (on or at students is not allowed!), so this is probably the best place.

Today was the second day of classes, and I was overjoyed to see almost all of the students present. They listened, looked at me, and nodded. Soon, they will drift away, it is inevitable. It is hard not to become jaded, but after only 7 years, I have begun to see patterns, which reduces humans, including myself to simple shapes and forms. Perhaps I force things on myself, and then my students? Who knows?

Instructions. If only they would learn and listen, and, if need be, ask questions--then I wouldn't have an assignment handed in, single-spaced and written in pencil, answers written directly in the tiny, cramped space between questions--they were asked to print in pen, and double space on the paper provided. Oh well, at least no one made me a paper mache diorama, but that would really be stretching the (sur) reality.

I have read Frank McCourt's latest memoir, Teacher Man, and found it somewhat sympathetic, but, honestly, and modestly, I've got anecdotes that would bury him..

There is also a blog somewhere on the net called Rateyourstudents, which is basically a group of University Professors who get their own back at all the students who post on the "Rate your Profs" style websites--and I thought I was bitter!

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SUNDAY NIGHTS...

...the smell of bath water after the setting sun...sound of The Wonderful World of Disney in the background...sandwiches made from the afternoon's roast beef...a bad taste in the mouth. His clothes laid out over his chair--clean socks, underwear. Two days before, he had melted under the Friday evening glow, but now he had to return--back to school, and its inconsistencies and variables. Bedtime must be early in order to get a good rest, but sleep would probably not come until too late..hot head on cool pillow, thinking of what he might have forgotten, and what might be remembered by others. The idea of facing a morning where he had to leave the house made a flat film of panic rise in his chest. It's true, he worried, what would happen at school...what would the kids say...what mood would the teachers be in....? All in good time, as his wrinkled fingertips played across his lips...

On Not Writing Part 2

...still getting the hang of this...who knows, someone may even read it! Self-censorship comes into play here..no names, no specifics...writing in a void it seems. No air, no life, no real movement, but all the same it feels quite good to at least be doing something.

More is to come, I'm sure. Notebooks full of ideas, and quick sketches of nouns-people, places and things. Still, every writer includes their lives in their work, especially me...stock characters, sets, etc. I have an imagination, but writing from that will invariably involve my own experience/ knowledge...

..perhaps I will post a short story soon, or the beginning of one anyway. Real life events often spawn the best ideas. For example, a pair of friends somewhere in the United States, Florida I believe, were drinking away, and one of the two set the couch on fire. The two men made a bet that each could stay longer than the other as the entire living room began to burn. An hour later one of the men could take it no longer and left the house, leaving his friend to bask in his victory, and subsequent death..still on the sofa, beer in hand....

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On not writing...

Almost a year ago, I decided to create a blog, to help spur me on in my efforts to begin writing seriously again. After setting one up, I dithered endlessly about RSS feeds, pictures, sidebars, and most importantly, what to write. I thought about rants, stream-of-consciousness type material, and even polled some of my friends about what I should do. In the end, I did not write. Not a word. Not even a period...

The realization came to me that I should just write--and what better time to do it than the first day of the New Year. What will the subject matter be? Who knows? The important thing is writing, and it has taken me the better part of a year to realize that writing is still my life long ambition, success or failure..the bells and whistles will come later if they come at all...
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