MFA Life updates and or life, and or getting one (a life so to speak)

I have been too busy at CalArts for such bloggery but here goes:

Sometimes I think blogging is a waste of time, especially when your main focus is of a more literary nature. I often wonder would Hemingway blog? Or would he merely tweet about deep sea fishing?

Where are we in this world? In some sort of failing literary Heterotopia? I think about the popularity of Twitter coming to a fruition, and I wonder if it isn’t where we are heading? Maybe in 50 years we will all just express ourselves with one letter of the alphabet or better yet tiny emoticons.

Then I stop over-reacting and I go back to school and read what’s being workshopped in my MFA program and I relax.

Regardless, I do think there is a future in writing and the inherent desire to tell stories. And as long as there are stories to be told, someone will tell them.

Lately, I’ve been far too enmeshed in my memoir manuscript, and having real face to face discussions to think of much else. I’ve also been using the power my own psychotherapy sessions to push myself to the best of my own ability. I feel a great improvement in my life, mind and heart. And as far the rest? Unless it’s related to creative non-fiction, poetry and or the cinema I can’t really invest in it.

I am also working on my very first chap book of poetry. A not so secret past time of mine. I’m actually working on a series of poems devoted to and or involving my oh so very complicated feelings surrounding Sylvia Plath. I’ve been reading many texts related to her from: The Savage Gods, to more recent biographies like: Mad Girl’s Love Song (Life before Ted Hughes) and her complete, unfiltered diaries. It’s funny what we infer about someone from their writing and they way they live. What you see about me, I might not see about me and so on.

I am also considering destroying this blog and switching to WordPress as it’s much snappier and snazzier looking, but I have no time for that right now.

To be continued…

Desiderata poem

— written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s —
Not “Found in Old St. Paul’s Church”! — see below
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul. 
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Sent from my iPad