Monday, November 17, 2008

Quick Update

So, the teacher in question recognized his mistake and made it so our papers were not due until the end of the week, we can e-mail them any time after Wednesday, load off of my mind.

Now all I have to do is study for the final, make a power point tonight, and tomorrow, study just the same. Then after class on Wednesday work on the paper at the office and type it up when I get home. Oh! The length was also changed, it is not 8 pages DOUBLE spaced, instead of single. Bless his angel soul.

I want to clear up my opinion about this man, as much as I doubt his dedication to the teaching profession, I am very certain he cares about the students. He is not a bad man in any regard, and what he lacks in the teaching gene, he soars at in his research and work on stem cells. I do not doubt his passion for the subject matter, nor his passion for getting people to agree with him, I only doubt if he is made for this profession that requires a certain amount of care and availability. My previous post made it seem as if I disliked him as a person, which is not the case, I just dislike his style of teaching.

I have about 25 minutes before I go into work, where I will do nothing except wait for something to do, and then end up doing nothing, because there is rarely anything to do. I'm a bit concerned because I'm not 100% sure where my paychecks are going, because I haven't received a single one. I should probably get on that.

I can't wait to have a bit of extra time, so I can throw myself back into my writing. I miss so much the days where I can sit and look at the shambles that are currently my play. I've been avoiding admittance that I'm stuck in a vortex for a while by consuming myself in poetry, but at the end of the day it really is the lives of Theo and Amanda that pull at my brain. I am so stuck at realizing why they are losing their words, or why it is their story and not someone else's. All I know is that there is something about these two characters I've created that I can't let go of. They have a story to tell I just don't know what it is yet.

In my playwrighting class I remember being told I can't be afraid to hurt them. I'm trying so much to push them to the limits they need to jump, but for some reason the text is getting lost in that struggle. I sit and stare at my scribbled corrections on the hard copy script and I honestly can barely understand what I meant by "no." or "NOT RIGHT!" I know when I made the notes I knew exactly what I needed to change, but after waiting so long, I feel like the reason I started writing this is lost in the fog. All I remember about the process was that I haven't lost Amanda's monologue. It was the first thing that came to me as I was sleeping and a woke up and wrote it down right away. It stemmed the entire piece. I don't know what I wanted it to say. I don't know what the story is anymore. I refuse to just throw it aside but my epiphany simply isn't coming.

I asked two of my former classmates to help dramaturge the play, but for some reason it doesn't seem to click. Their answers look like gibberish to me, and I know that it's not their intention, they really took time reading and e-mailing a response from states away, but my mind simply cannot comprehend what I wanted to change, or what needs to change.

I write because I want to be that person who takes someones breath away. I want to take my own breath away. This is a completely selfish and immature reasoning, but I don't know how else to acheive the peace that my sore typing fingers need. If I don't write I feel unaccomplished, no matter what I clean or sing or watch or how much homework I do, it's writing that calms my mind day after day. And perhaps being selfish is the only reason any of us do anything, but it makes me sad for my writing. I want to write for others but I seem to be only writing for myself.

I really wish I could just sit down and have all the poetry that I work on form itself into the plot of Amanda and Theo. But it's not, nearly a year later I am not even close to finding a resolution, and it's eating away at me.

1 comment:

~ S a m m y ~ said...

I appreciate your honesty. Maybe in admitting your 'selfishness,' you are writing for others too. Because people are selfish in general, esp writers. And people love reading material they can relate to. Do you get what I mean?