October 31, 2003
Flock
Besides doing homework and building this intellectual facade of mine, I have been writing in my written journal when I really feel the need to scream and what not. Sometimes online there are too many distractions and when all I need to do is write about whatever is really bothering me, my journal can be a great comfort. I love my small audience to be sure, but sometimes I am a little too conscious of them.
Today I had a conference/evaluation session with my Journalism teacher. I was told that I wrote well blah blah blah, but I need to stretch beyond the History department to get teacher commentary for my news stories. She also suggested that I try my hand at writing political satires. I may try to do as much, but I cannot decide if I should concentrate my satire on something local, national, or international.
I think I will probably write political satires in that order, actually. I am not sure if I can do an international satire and have it be something people would understand, though how horrible/funny would it be to propose some outrageous solution for peace in the Middle East? Maybe they could all sit down for a game of Trivial Pursuit and we can just see who is better than who after all, winner takes the Holy Land. To be even more offensive, I could suggest that Monopoly would be too biased towards Israel. Or maybe they should all bond summer camp style and make lanyards for their mommies (oh Billy Collins).
I have no idea as to whether or not I will be good at writing political satires. I am excited and itching to write one, but part of me is also terrified that I will suck the big one. I guess I will never know until I try. Probably I will write a few back-up articles just in case.
Something kind of fantastic is that my article on the Matthew Shepard hate monument has drawn a lot of attention in my school. Except for the people who were surveyed for my article and some friends of mine, no one really knew that it was happening and they were shocked to hear about it. I am ecstatic that I am gaining such a reaction because I know this is the kind of story that people need to pay attention to and the lack of attention for it from the mainstream media is appalling. We have to face our demons head on if we wish to conquer them.
Last night I was lucky enough to see Billy Collins read at Ohio Dominican University. He was fantastic, though I enjoyed Nikki Giovanni better because she did more storytelling. It was the second time I attended a poetry reading with next to no prior knowledge on the writer I would be listening to. If we could all be assured access to gifted writers, I think this would be a fantastic way of discovering new literary works. While I sat there I was trying to commit as many poems that I liked to memory so I could go to the bookstore and find a book that held as many of my favorites as possible. I could not find a copy of the poem "Flock" in any of his books and I was deeply disappointed, but I did find it on the internet. It was inspired by a sentence in an article he read on the history of printing: "It has been calculated that each copy of the Guttenberg Bible required the skins of three hundred sheep."
And here is the lovely poem:
Flock
I can see them squeezed into the holding pen behind the stone building where the printing press is housed.
All of them squirming around to find a little room and looking so much alike it would be nearly impossible to count them.
And there is no telling which one of them will carry the news that the Lord is a shepherd
One of the few things they already know.
Along with buying Sailing Alone Around the Room by Billy Collins today, I also bought a fantastic new journal that is red with gold embroidered flowers and a ribbon running down the middle of it horizontally. Not too many things make me more excited than finding cute, cheap journals with unlined pages. They are not as easy to find as you would think, though it is becoming easier thanks to booksellers like Barnes and Noble who understand my needs. Designing and selling my kind of journals is on my list of things to do should I ever marry rich or somehow dance into zeroes myself.
And no one likes to hear bitching from someone who is doing well, but sometimes it annoys me that I am never allowed to really take compliments to heart. I am always supposed to be (or so it feels) modest to an uncomfortable degree. The expectation seems to be for me to declare my work crap rather than be proud when I excel. But if this is my worst worry, though it is only one worry on a list too long for my own comfort, I am as extremely fortunate as I know myself to be.
Love,
Mandy