WriteOn! Posts 3/5/13

Brian Nazzaro Post 3/5/13

Observation
As I sit and observe, I see a kid like many others, struggling with homesickness. The once outgoing and fun to be around kid, has been affected by the thoughts of home and family. When I spoke to him he said, “I just need break, I am getting sick of this place." With the hockey season over and the cold weather still present boredom seems to be the problem. Having known him for a long time it is accurate to predict this issue being temporary. With the spring and warm weather approaching and golf season in view I am confident that he will be back to his old self - the outgoing and fun self. He said " I just need summer." And soon enough summer will be here.

Mariza Ballou Story Post 3/5/13

I was told to walk out of the room, walk up the green carpeted steps. Who was telling me this? I forget her name. Or maybe it wasn’t told. I came up blank. I tried to jogged the memory, but it seems like it was slipping from my mind, slowly. I was forgetting everything.

The instructions! Right, walk up the steps. One, two, three, four....twenty-two steps. My foot hit the top. I looked around. The carpet ended in one more step. There was wooden floors, and slightly on the walls. The wood was a chestnut, actually a lighter shade of chestnut. I took one step forward. Wait! What’s the next instruction...right five steps forward. I took one step back and started again. One, the floor creaked. Two, the floor made another whiny sound. Three. No sound this time. Four. The floor creaked again. Five, the floor was so loud. Next! What was the next set of instructions! I keep forgetting, everything is slipping from my mind. Why can’t I remember.

I looked around for some clue! What was the instruction! Think, think, think! What is it? I looked around. Theres a door to the left with a glowing red exit sign on top. Do I got there? I looked to the right, a window...it was dark, but you could still see the snow outside. It looked cold. Do I go out the window.

I hear the conversation to the far left. Look another door. I tried to be quiet but the floor kept making noises. The voices stopped. I stopped. Time seemed to even stop. I held my breath and closed my eyes. Maybe if I don’t seem them, they won’t be able to see me.
The door screeches open. I cringe. Stay still, I reprimand myself.

A voice said, “look what we have here,” it was a deep voice, laced with amusement. “Looks like someone lost the game...” He kept going.

My eyes flew open at the contact of his hand on my chin. What game! My mind screamed.
I saw a tall, dark, man with even darker eyes. He wasn’t dark skinned though, he was pale, like he stayed inside all day long. His hair was dark, personality was also dark. Everything was dark!

“Little one don’t be scared,” he soothed in a mocking tone. I ripped my face out of his hand stumbling back, falling on the floor. “You don’t remember, do you?” He stared down at my body on the floor.

I crawled back, not letting him near me. “Remember what?” My voice shook, just telling him how scared I really am. And just like that, the tears came, and I waited for the truth to come and ruin my life.

I need to know though. What am I suppose to do? Who am I? And why am I here?

“You don’t remember?” He gazed down at me like I was a science project. “Well little one, you're in the hospital, where the doctors will get you all better...”

Abby Schwing Observation Post 3/5/13

He sat back relaxed without a care in the world. This showed not only in the way he was sitting but how he dressed: full sweat-suit, headband across his head, and left over ketchup on the side of his mouth.  He cracked a few jokes, looked at his phone, cracked a few jokes, repeat. His menacing smile stretched across the room as he asked his buddy to take up his plate of half eaten chicken nuggets. He returned back to his original state adjusted his hood on his sweatshirt and leaned back putting his head back on the chair. He stated humming a song, his lips popped together and his fingers strummed one after the other on the table. His foot tapped but all I could focus on was his glossy tied sneakers.

Posts of the Day from Write On! (Monday)

Tommy Rich – Post from Day 1

I learned a lot about inspiration from listening to what inspired Keith Dorrington. Hearing him talk about seeing Micky punching a bag in snowy weather and Dicky training him as an ex-drug addict. Keith said that the hard work Micky and Dicky displayed that day in the snow was what inspired him to write. He was also inspired by the strength and will-power of Dicky to over come his drug addiction. It seemed to me that Keith was very proud of the brothers for uniting and trying to make a comeback after all they had been through as far as fighting with their family and Dicky struggling with addiction. I think this feeling of proudness was what inspired Keith to write.

Trippe Reineman – Post from Day 1

Interpretation of Salvadore Dali's painting, "The Persistence of Memory" (that famous droopy clock painting)

"What are dreams made of?" we wonder.

Is it sleep; restful, peaceful and deep?

Perhaps it is just an exhausted mind that needs to slumber.

Or maybe, just maybe, dreams are our other blanket

That we like to hide under.

What are dreams if not escape from reality?

Where else can we go to run from our father,

A father who reminds us of our own brevity.

Father time, alive but never truly living;

A selfish man, always taking and never giving.

So what are dreams if not a respite?

Shades to pull down over our plight?

Our chance to defy all that we know,

a chance to relinquish all that we owe.

The laws of nature seem to split at the seam,

for who is our master once in a dream?

A sea extends into nothingness, fading into the sky

And the concept of time itself is left hung out to dry.

Write On! Project Group PHOTO

What a group!

Throughout the week, check out our GROUP BLOG where we will be posting writing related to and inspired by our sessions with guests and visiting writers, here and off-campus.

Write On! Exploration of Inspiration BLOG- CLICK HERE!

Write On! Exploration of Inspiration

Essential Question: What inspires writers to create their work? What inspires you?
Examples of how the group hopes in investigate the essential question:

• By meeting professional artists and writers and discussing their livelihood with them
• Learning through the experience of actually engaging the creative process
• Trial and error with our own work
• With an exceedingly large magnifying glass and an amusing mustache
• With advanced forensic technology, perhaps involving DNA testing
• Extensive library research, possible involving microfiche

Coming soon.... More great posts by the Write On Group and a fabulous GROUP PIC