October
I love the fall. I live in fall, more than any other season.
While spring remains the season of change for some, the season of regrowth and newness, for me, it is always Autumn. Change comes when our unneeded elements glow brilliantly for a moment, and then are cast off, to be jumped upon by children and, sometimes, college students.
The air is crisp and vibrant, and I feel that all my thoughts and emotions are accentuated by it. I feel that my moods are more extreme, my extroversion and introspection alike. At times, I have been known to wax poetic. Horrors.
I've been struggling with writing for a few years now. The other day in my Shakespeare class, we were asked what is most Shakespearean about ourselves. We were given a few days, and then presented our findings to the class. People said a variety of things, from their wit to their passion. When it was my turn, I said something along the lines of, "All Shakespearean characters, heroes, villains, queens, peasants, soldiers alike, all of one thing in common: All of them desperately need to be heard and understood. That's why we have the soliloquies, the monologues. I feel that's what makes me Shakespearean, this desperate need to be heard and understood."
So I keep trying, even though I am often disgusted with my own prose. A natural reaction, I suppose.
But I love fall, and it makes me try all the harder. I live in fall. I feel that, more than January even, my year starts with October.
I've been so out of sorts since 2005. In 2006 I was struggling with my heart-break and, hilariously, my back-break. In 2007, which has gone by quite quickly, I must say, I was struggling with another adjustment: Moving out of the city I had lived for 21 years. Portland is so comfortable and easy. I know the streets and the people and the coffee houses. I know a lot of different sides of Portland, and a lot of different sides of the people. I love it. I don't mean that in the way that love gets through around like, "Oh, I love that pizza place." I mean I actually LOVE it. Romantic love. I get the same feeling about Portland that I do from the stage, and did for a particularly heart-breaking young woman a few years back. So it was hard leaving it, and coming to a place where I knew close to no one.
And now, now I'm back, and it's much easier. Now I live by myself, and feel free of the burden I had carried since January of 2006. I'm back onstage again, in small ways. Baby steps. No audience yet, but hopefully that will come.
And it's fall.
I love fall.
I love the fall. I live in fall, more than any other season.
While spring remains the season of change for some, the season of regrowth and newness, for me, it is always Autumn. Change comes when our unneeded elements glow brilliantly for a moment, and then are cast off, to be jumped upon by children and, sometimes, college students.
The air is crisp and vibrant, and I feel that all my thoughts and emotions are accentuated by it. I feel that my moods are more extreme, my extroversion and introspection alike. At times, I have been known to wax poetic. Horrors.
I've been struggling with writing for a few years now. The other day in my Shakespeare class, we were asked what is most Shakespearean about ourselves. We were given a few days, and then presented our findings to the class. People said a variety of things, from their wit to their passion. When it was my turn, I said something along the lines of, "All Shakespearean characters, heroes, villains, queens, peasants, soldiers alike, all of one thing in common: All of them desperately need to be heard and understood. That's why we have the soliloquies, the monologues. I feel that's what makes me Shakespearean, this desperate need to be heard and understood."
So I keep trying, even though I am often disgusted with my own prose. A natural reaction, I suppose.
But I love fall, and it makes me try all the harder. I live in fall. I feel that, more than January even, my year starts with October.
I've been so out of sorts since 2005. In 2006 I was struggling with my heart-break and, hilariously, my back-break. In 2007, which has gone by quite quickly, I must say, I was struggling with another adjustment: Moving out of the city I had lived for 21 years. Portland is so comfortable and easy. I know the streets and the people and the coffee houses. I know a lot of different sides of Portland, and a lot of different sides of the people. I love it. I don't mean that in the way that love gets through around like, "Oh, I love that pizza place." I mean I actually LOVE it. Romantic love. I get the same feeling about Portland that I do from the stage, and did for a particularly heart-breaking young woman a few years back. So it was hard leaving it, and coming to a place where I knew close to no one.
And now, now I'm back, and it's much easier. Now I live by myself, and feel free of the burden I had carried since January of 2006. I'm back onstage again, in small ways. Baby steps. No audience yet, but hopefully that will come.
And it's fall.
I love fall.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
wink84:
anybody who considers me a friend, whether cyber or not, is automatically cool.
kmatt:
You need a new interesting blog. I believe the opening should consist of "So I was listening to the Spice Girls the other day when I realized..." Go with it.