I thought I'd write a quick update - since this week and next are the last of the term (already?!) I'll be quite busy for the next couple of days and will likely forget to post for the week if I don't do it now! In short, the snow has melted, my political science essay is finished, and Canterbury is filled with all sorts of holiday spirit.
For the last week, I've felt a bit under the weather and I like to use this as an excuse for my unbelievable and ridiculous lack of motivation to finish my last two projects. One would think that the immense feeling of accomplishment and joy that comes from getting ahead would cause a person to do so more often. Alas, after doing a bit of a happy dance upon sending my essay in to be proofread, I deemed my top priorities to not be to begin work on my final essay and poetry portfolio, but instead to watch "The Tudors," read The Unbearable Lightness of Being, squeeze in at least two naps a day, try the ten different flavors of hot chocolate offered at the grocery store, and tinker with a free photo-editing software.
As I've begun to feel a bit better - not to mention, simply tired of feeling lazy - I have happily welcomed the company of Elizabeth Bishop, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson, James Wright, and T.S. Eliot, along with the sweet December sun and countdown to being home for the holidays, as just the inspiration I need to get me writing again.
Today, I attended my last poetry seminar of the year - and in doing so, experienced, by far, the best possible ending to a course. Half of the time, we reviewed refrain poems, and discussed Bob Dylan's greatness, which included listening to "Blowin' in the Wind." I've been fortunate enough to have taken several courses where Dylan is a focus and it makes me a very happy girl... every time. Then, we had a workshop where I received a great deal of positive remarks about my last poem. A British student who had studied abroad in California last year developed a love for all things pumpkin, and brought in a homemade pumpkin pie (it's impossible to find pumpkin-flavored food and drink in this country), which we proceeded to take to the college's bar, where our professor treated us to drinks and we all had a nice break chatting for a bit. Again, what better way to end the term?
I mentioned this would be quick, and so it is - I've nothing else to report at the moment.
I'm terrible at sharing my own writing, but I'll leave you with a poem that I plan to include in my portfolio, as proof that I am being productive over here. The theme (for now, anyway) for my portfolio is nature - I plan to sandwich four poems - one for each season, in order - between a poem about morning and a poem inspired by night; the idea being that days may change with the seasons, but ultimately, everyday begins and everyday ends.
This one was inspired by the vast and lingering amounts of fog that follow the melting of snow here.
Morning Haze
Fog creeps in quietly,
to smother the coming light of day.
Only the tops of cathedrals
and old redwood trees
escape its murky grasp.
The grass perspires,
anxious that the sun
will lose. Trees in the distance
stand still and dark
as the ghosts in your dreams.
A bird cries somewhere,
looking for its home.
You sleep
because you're afraid to wake.
I wish you all the best of luck on final exams and essays, holiday shopping, weekend travels, or whatever else might be in store for you this week!
Always,
Aly
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