Hunger for Knowledge Thirst for Life
When I was in grade school and into high school I went into the new academic year with a great longing to go to school. I couldn't stop my excitement in August while in the aisles of the stores looking for pencils, a trapper keeper and paper supplies of all kinds. Clothes and shoe shopping were next. Everyday I would plan my outfits until the day school arrived. I was full of a hunger to go to school.
Now, looking back I realize the difference between being excited to go to school and being actually thirsty for education. Now, away from any structure of a classroom I want to learn about American History, Math, Art, and all other subjects I think of. I was an absolute air head when it came to math. Truly. I would look at an Algebraic equation and my brain would melt. Now, as my kids bring home their daily homework I am getting it! Me, the person who couldn't figure out simple math rules,or at least didn't try to get them and then found myself lost too late for help, is figuring out things that back then scared me.
Then there is writing. I almost always did well at "English" class. For anyone who doesn't know what that term means(because some people in other countries who may read this or even different schools don't call it English and think that term means I am learning my own language,lol), it is the class where one learns anything from how to dissect and label parts of a sentence and how to spell to how to write a thesis. Now that I am writing poetry, blogs and (hopefully soon) my novel, I am paying attention to all kinds of different writing styles. Reading is the key. That is something I would never have believed 15 years ago but its true: The more literature you read and more authors work you consume you grow as a writer. Both in technical like spelling and grammar and also writing flow, if you make a serious job out of reading whatever you can get your hands on you will find many voices in the stories written,and by doing so, find and fine tune your own voice. I had an English Teacher in 10th grade who had a real love affair with reading. She was reading on her own time, in school, at home, on vacations...Even now in the small coastal town she moved to, she runs a "gingerbread" library. Books to my teacher and to all people who take words as art, are gems, gifts to be opened, read and savored. I loved writing before I met this teacher and after I was lucky enough to witness her passion for the written word and found my own love of it grow and deepen.
As we speak I am planning a trip to my local library. I am going to get outside of the safety of my home and go to the library where I can chose a few novels to read. I am thinking the first one will be "Of Mice And Men" and the second will be whatever catches my eye. I am excited to plunge headlong into a book, another world and out of this depression that has coated my eyes with darkness. I hope in doing some real reading of a bunch of good books I will find my own way and direction in what book I want to write. I hope more than that I will find inspiration to live, I mean TRULY LIVE and get out of my own head and world of sheltered emotions. For almost 2 years I have tucked away the truth and love to make my world safe...Too much sadness and reality I have been living vicariously through reality t.v. and my kids. Although its true I will live for a few hours a day through the book I read I will hope to gain hope and when I put it down maybe I will pick up my self-esteem and get outta this house and my head.
Now, looking back I realize the difference between being excited to go to school and being actually thirsty for education. Now, away from any structure of a classroom I want to learn about American History, Math, Art, and all other subjects I think of. I was an absolute air head when it came to math. Truly. I would look at an Algebraic equation and my brain would melt. Now, as my kids bring home their daily homework I am getting it! Me, the person who couldn't figure out simple math rules,or at least didn't try to get them and then found myself lost too late for help, is figuring out things that back then scared me.
Then there is writing. I almost always did well at "English" class. For anyone who doesn't know what that term means(because some people in other countries who may read this or even different schools don't call it English and think that term means I am learning my own language,lol), it is the class where one learns anything from how to dissect and label parts of a sentence and how to spell to how to write a thesis. Now that I am writing poetry, blogs and (hopefully soon) my novel, I am paying attention to all kinds of different writing styles. Reading is the key. That is something I would never have believed 15 years ago but its true: The more literature you read and more authors work you consume you grow as a writer. Both in technical like spelling and grammar and also writing flow, if you make a serious job out of reading whatever you can get your hands on you will find many voices in the stories written,and by doing so, find and fine tune your own voice. I had an English Teacher in 10th grade who had a real love affair with reading. She was reading on her own time, in school, at home, on vacations...Even now in the small coastal town she moved to, she runs a "gingerbread" library. Books to my teacher and to all people who take words as art, are gems, gifts to be opened, read and savored. I loved writing before I met this teacher and after I was lucky enough to witness her passion for the written word and found my own love of it grow and deepen.
As we speak I am planning a trip to my local library. I am going to get outside of the safety of my home and go to the library where I can chose a few novels to read. I am thinking the first one will be "Of Mice And Men" and the second will be whatever catches my eye. I am excited to plunge headlong into a book, another world and out of this depression that has coated my eyes with darkness. I hope in doing some real reading of a bunch of good books I will find my own way and direction in what book I want to write. I hope more than that I will find inspiration to live, I mean TRULY LIVE and get out of my own head and world of sheltered emotions. For almost 2 years I have tucked away the truth and love to make my world safe...Too much sadness and reality I have been living vicariously through reality t.v. and my kids. Although its true I will live for a few hours a day through the book I read I will hope to gain hope and when I put it down maybe I will pick up my self-esteem and get outta this house and my head.
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