In April my little brother graduated with a Masters in Public Health and got accepted Lahoya University in San Diego for his PH.D. We had a celebratory dinner for him. Cake. Ice Cream. Grandma Allen came down. And because I am ALMOST done with my Masters: course work finished, first draft of thesis done...mom put my name on the cake too. They sang happy graduation to Ryan and me. Grandma and mom pulled out envelopes with cards inside that said Happy Graduation! and checks that amounted to 125.00 dollars. Great!
I bought up the boots that I have wanted since fall and hung the cards on the kitchen hutch. Happy graduation!
I wear the boots even though it's Summer, because I love them like crazy. I wore them to a job interview and to a date night with Charles.
But the damn thesis lingers in my mind. Revisions are going at a glacier pace. Partly because professors disappear in Summer, and partly because I love Summer so much that you might just find me crawling in the grass and shoving dirt in my mouth because Summer's good enough to eat. Why sit in a room tinkering with words when there is the sun to wallow in and dirt to dig? My thesis chair has given me feedback (top-notch feedback) on two of six stories; the two stories that needed the least revision. We haven't touched the theoretical introduction.
Who knows how long it will take me now. Will I ever crawl out of my anxious writing hole? Eating ice cream, cleaning out cupboards and pretending like writing means absolutely nothing to me. Like I could take it or leave it. Who cares? It's just words on a page. Letters. Who needs them?
And I'm not going to read that stupid ARTISTS WAY because it will just tell me all that touchy feely crap that I already believe but can't stand like, "God wants you to write." And "You need to let go of the voices in your head that keep you from writing."
LaLaLaLaLaLaLaLaLaLaLaLa! I'm not listening!
7 comments:
But darn! Those boots are GREAT!
Ha ha ha. Don't worry about reading the Artist's Way. But I laugh that you brought it up. I do seriously laugh.
good luck.
send it to your friend to read. yours would not be the first thesis i've helped with. it might even inspire me to get mine in order, which I should have done by now (especially if i plan on graduating before my courses expire). since all i wear are chacos, you don't even need to buy me boots.
What is The Artist's Way?
Break it down. Twenty minutes a day. Or one sentence. Come over here. We'll write for an hour each morning.
eating dirt is so good, please don't stop. but you will do amazing i believe in you erica!
hahahahha. i'm just laughing in delight. eat summer. it's better than writing.
i'm eating it too. one cherry at a time.
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