Spring Break Report (halfway point)

Well, I have been having so much fun on my spring break, that I have almost done none of my homework. I started out by taking my car into the Daily City BART station because I was low on my BART ticket, and wanted to drive after class. So after my final class, I left to go home taking Skyline because it was a gorgeous day. I had the windows rolled down, music blaring out of my stereo, and felling really relaxed of the days ahead. I only touched I-280 briefly before going back on surface streets heading home.
The next day was all about working on a project for one of my classes. The project is to create a poem with a box that looks like it. I decided to work on a memory from my summers as a kid. So I took a few pictures of Water Dog Lake, in Belmont, and the area surrounding it because of the Peninsula Jewish Community Center being there. I went to their summer programs to have fun in the Sun.
The next part of my project took me to a place I have not been to in a long time, Memorial Park. Here was the critical part of who I became as a performer. I knew of a way of getting into the park without having to pay for admission. I simply took a turn at Wure Road, and parked at a lot close by another park. Then it was all a matter of hiking to the Homestead campgrounds. I did stop along the way at the watering hole where the creek becomes damed up for swimming. It was here that I remember jumping into the freezing cold water to earn points for prizes at the end of the campout. I did find my way to Homestead, and I knew it the minute I saw it. The whole place looked like it had not been touched in ages. Everything was there that I could remember. There was an open area designated for "Capture The Flag," a section to sleep, tables for cooking/ eating, and a campfire area where the talent shows were held. I, of course, refined my performance skills there. Somehow or another, I became the emcee, performing each title of each act. It was so great seeing everything. I became inspired to write about this for my works.
Sunday was uneventful because I just was doing everyday things. But Monday I decided to go to see the Winchester Mystery House. I had not been there since I was a little boy. The whole time I was there, as a child, I thought I was going to be scared because there was some haunted house thing going on next door. Now as an adult, I apreciated all of the odd things that the house had to offer, such as short rising stairs, doors opening to nowhere, and stairs climing to celings or deadends. Another part that was fun was counting all the stairs as they were climbed. I did this to be sure that what the tour guide's numbers were correct. All in all, I say that I've had a great spring break so far.

Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf?

Well, if you disagree with her style of writing, you might get her wrath. So, anyway, I did not really get into the readings this week because Virgina Woolf's language is too flowery for me. I became lost really easily. I did not know who was who or what was going on. When it came time to get into the groups, I was for that week unprepared. So, I do what I do best, I just explained how hard it was to read it. I know with some readings, it can be tough for me. I know in my own writing, I am a person who likes to summarize, tell and not show, and just be a short short story writer. Through my professional writing career, I hope to become a better, and more explanatory writer. I might just have to write that god-damned flowery language, just to satisfy the masses.

Fountain dream/ driving analysis

Last night I had the strangest dream. I was dreaming of a beautiful fountain in an elaborate garden. The fountain was the kind that looks like a table top. I was admiring it when the top part of the fountain began moving around wherever I went.

I have been driving around for a week, and so far it has been a blast doing it. Before, I had to wait on parents, public transportation, or even walked to the places I wanted to go to. Not anymore! I can drive there with the greatest of ease. I even notice how much quicker it takes me to get to these different places, taking old routes that I used to walk along. It takes half the time it used too. I am so thrilled.

Jim Harrison- man of the midwest

This weeks readings were for me, very entertaining. I liked the story of a midwestern girl with a South American name. The thing about Harrison's work is that he appears to be a person who has very sensual details. It was hard at first to get into the storyline because of all the background he had to portray. I was reading at first the story of "Dalva" and somehow thought she was involved with a priest. Later on, I thought she was writing a letter to her son, but at the end the son turned into a daughter. What was up with that?
Background is an important detail in novels. Novels allow writers to expand on characters and situations that otherwise are shortened. I saw in his notebooks that it took him over three years to complete his work. He even mentioned that he thought he would go broke because the novel would be bad. He mentioned that his other work felt to him, to be the result of a suicide by a fellow compatriot. So to continue on in writing felt to be brave on his part. This makes me wonder how J.D. Salinger felt about copies of his book "The Catcher in the Rye," in the hands of all of those assassins.
Another thing about the notebooks was his mentioning of a woodpile. It reminded me of a place out on Canada Road that I dubbed woodpile gulch. My father and I were out on Canada Road on the Special Olympics Cycling team. I was traveling up this steep hill. At the top, the two of us rested and drank some water. As we were starting up again, my handlebars slipped over the side and I fell into the ditch. I saw my life flash before my eyes. I remember coming too and my father remarking how I looked cool flipping around like that.
Jim Harrison's "Letters Yesenin" were to me just typical letters from another writer to another writer. I did not take much out of them, other than his advice to up and becoming writers. He said to think of writing projects as like having your hair on fire. You just got to stop that "fire" by putting it out with your words on a page. That is such good advice.

Childhood Innocence

"Where's your gift of childhood innocence?" a young boy asks you one evening. "Is it locked away, never to be let out? How about we play a game where you are the robber, and I am the cop? I will chase you into the party where you will hide the innocence. If I find it, then you must let it out." You agree to do this. And so, you walk into the party. The smells of champagne and helium are in the air. You're wife asks about where you wandered off to. You tell her that you went out for cigarettes, even though you don't smoke. Suddenly, you are drawn to the painting of a bird your wife bought from a flea market. The bird is being fed by the boy you just talked to. "Henry!" your wife yells at you. "What are you doing staring at the painting? Don't you see we have guests here waiting to hear about your trip to San Francisco?" You continue ignoring her as the boy feeding the bird changes into a cop.

Annie Dillard-the weasel lady

This week's readings were a mixture of wonderful, practical, and insightful. The first of Annie's writings I found to be practical because of all of the quotes she managed to find in her life. They did get a bit tedious at times because she did not respond to any of them. The weasel notebook I found to be wonderful because I was getting a story rather than her telling me of everyday things she was doing. I never really knew too much about weasels, but I liked reading about them. They are a cool thing to have around the house in case you have a snake problem. The best part was of her being in contact with a weasel. Finally, the writing notebook was inspiring for any new writer. The advice she gives is to write what you can, and duck out of the way of criticism. I know that I have trouble in my writing, but if I stick to it, I'll get better and get known.

Driving

You know how they say that driving is a privilege, and not a right? Well, I have just gotten my licence, and I do see how driving is a privilege. you have to be aware of your surroundings, know how the car operates, and be cautious. The thing about it is I have always been afraid to drive because of other cars, being in an accident, or pulled over by the cops. Well, now I am a licenced driver, and I am still afraid to drive. My father gave me some good advice on the subject. He said to take things slow. So I will do just that. I know I have a lifetime of driving ahead of me, so there is no reason not to rush things right now.

Charles Simic- an interesting person

Reading the notebook excerpts of Charles Simic was interesting for the most part. He had a way of telling stories that were short and you could easily remember. The one that sticks out is where he had lice in a helmet. It brought to mind an experience I had as a child. I was exposed to lice and had to have my hair cut and shampooed. My sister was also checked, and was found to have no lice. Simic's poems are really bizarre and intriguing. They are bizarre because of the topics covered. I never even knew that Death could have a family. Or even that shoes could be a Gospel of some one's life. That is what is so intriguing about Simic. He is a strange man who can be so beautiful in his writing.

God works in mysterious ways

Last Wednesday, I had a really cool experience. The night before I had called a friend about something, but never got an answer. Well, the next day I happened to be going home earlier than normal because of furlough days. I was on the bus and my friend, who never answered, was on that very bus. So I walked over to him and got my answer. Later on that evening, I attended a Lions meeting with my mother. The meeting featured two speakers; one from South Africa, & the other was a Past District Governor speaking about Canine Companions for Independence. After the meeting, he and I were in the bathroom, and he mentioned about how his Granddaughter loved the country she had gone to on the Lions Youth Exchange program, that she went back there to study art. I was amazed that this sort of thing happened. I became inspired by my mother on the ride home, to write an article for Youth Exchange about it.