Thursday, December 14, 2006


Everyone quiet...I'm blogging while I'm giving an exam. Yes! It's true! The students are trudging their way through a grueling legal research and analysis exam. They've got a case to read, a statute to analyze, and a page right out of Shepard's Citator. I feel all-powerful. Their futures lie in my reviewing of their exam will either make their "A" or bring them down to the "C" or the "D" or worse.

[Please, someone, hand me my sceptor..and that crown over there...thank you, oh so much you worthless subject, you.]

I kid.

Actually, this keyboard is really noisy so the flow isn't happening. I'm certain when I get home later I'll read this post and be horrified. I'll edit and re-edit and drive the Bloglines people nuts with the repeat posts (assuming that's what happens). But see, I'm compelled. I've been reading blogs lately and they all made me want to write. I'd love to slam out some fiction, or a really good memoir-type thingie. Sometimes though I think I've said it all. I talked about my mother's unbalanced ways, the lemon tree, the pine tree, the children, the husband, the marriage, the school...Tourette's, hypertension, bipolar...stiff muscles, overweightness (yeah, yeah, that's not a word) in the sink, sunlight in a dusty room...teaching, learning, crying, laughing.

There's just no more to say.

I have that trouble with photography. For the longest time I was documenting my suburban life--

[Student, that's called a true and false question. If any part of the sentence is wrong, then the whole thing is wrong. Right...if your notes indicate a different bit of must be...? So "true" is your final answer, eh? Okay on your way, you stricken student, you.]

I had oodles of pictures, plenty of beauty in my quiet urban-suburban town. Then one day I hit a wall. I'd taken a picture of that wall already. And that reflection. And that pond, and that graffitti-stained tree. And the kids. Oh the kids. They do keep changing, true. They are an ever-shifting subject...but...

I felt I'd seen it all, documented it all. I press my eye against the viewfinder and there is only familiarity.

Shhhh...the keyboard is driving me wacky. Two more hours to go. I'll edit tomorrow. No, no, I'll just write a new post.


Jean said...

I think this feeling just happens. It certainly happens to me with writing - already, little as I have done. And with reading - from time to time I find myself frantically cruising bookshops; there's nothing I want to read; there never will be again; then suddenly there is again. Everything is repetition. And everything is new. Tis the mysterious, watery rhythms of the mind. Sooner or later the tide changes.

Jennifer said...

I just wanted to pop in and wish you and yours happy holidays before I shut myself out from the bloggy world for a while. A break seems in order, if not for fresh perspective, then at least for my sanity!

Here's to merry and bright, and everything nice!