Saturday, September 24, 2005

Bulletin Board Freak!

Okay - it's true - I have an addictiont to creating bulletin boards! :) Am I secretly a 2nd grade teacher? No, I don't think so! Here are my two bulletin boards so far. The one on the left is for my students - the Large soccer balls have the class rules: be prompt, prepared, productive and polite. The smaller soccer balls have student-created goals on them - like make honor roll, improve spelling, get all homework done, etc.
The 2nd board is my Parts of speech web - Although I hate spiders - the 8 legs lend themselves well to the project. I have a web for each part of speech. This week, my students will brainstorm examples for each part of speech and post their examples on the board. I hope it'll help the kids feel like they helped create the atmosphere in the room.
I have a 3rd board for "Star Writers" and I already have some Grade A essays all about the student's names posted up there. The Names Essay went over well, I thought - the concept of exploring their names was intruiging for the students.

Illustration Friday - Fresh

I am on a mailing list from to get sent weekly topics for illustration. I am not a visual artist, so I doubt I'm about to create drawings and sketchs of the topics any time soon without some training (although it'd be nice to take some art classes, I seriously doubt my ability to learn to manipulate pen/pencil/paint to create anything recognizable!).
However, I thought I'd try using the prompt to inspire some written pieces on the topic. We'll see what turns up.

I am torn between images of fresh-cool, and fresh-warm/hot. Of fresh warm baked brown bread from the oven leaving a yeasty scent throughout the house. Or, the fresh wind through the apple orchard in autumn bringing the crisp smell of macintoshes and granny smiths to my nose. The ideas have somewhat in common - scent. I must find a connection between the word "fresh," and the wholesome goodness of food freshly baked or picked.
I've long been a picky eater - and food connects strongly for me. I can't bring myself to eat leftovers. I long for something fresh each day. Newly made, untouched foods to spoon up or spear crisply with a fork. Microwaving a lump of congealed pasta or greasy meat sits uneasily with my stomach and sensibilities.
Fresh - crisp romaine hearts with micro beads of cold water, topped with vibrant red half-moons of tomato and cool rounds of cucumber.
Fresh - the whiter than white flesh of macintosh apples, with barely visibile veins of red tracing through it, and crisp skin that breaks easily and cleanly when bitten into.
No wonder I love to shop for produce more than any other grocery item - the freshness and earthy dampness entices me. Fruits and vegetables have not traveled far in time or space from the earth in which they grew.
No wonder I love to go apple picking - to pull a firm Cortland from the tree and dust it on my sweatshirt, take a bite and still taste the sunshine that only seconds ago was pouring sweetness into the fruit.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Explaining my Blog Title

Why did I call this Blog a Writer Within? I bet it's a little self-explanatory, but I'll explain anyways, b/c I can't think of what to write at the moment.
I feel like my writerly self has gotten trapped. Trapped deep within myself. Trapped between mundane daily events/chores and the intensive schooling and preparation I've gone through the past 2 years to become a teacher, get my master's etc.
In 2002, I won an award for a short story. And then it's like my writer-self sunk into a hole buried deep within me. A Writer Within myself. Sometimes I read the pieces I wrote years ago and wonder WHO wrote that, because they sound so foreign to me. Unlike what I might write now if I were writing; far better than I could write now if I were trying to write.
I feel like I've packed wet clay around myself and let it dry and get crusty. Unearthing my writer-self is going to be messy, and produce some sloppy writing, I'm sure.
Bear with me. It'll take some time. I long for inspiration to flow into and out and through me again. I long to set the words free. Dust them off; put some sheen to them, and let them shine again!


Related Posts with Thumbnails