Friday, September 21, 2012
At the end, or sometimes in the middle, of each class of writing I teach, I ask the students to consider what in each others' writing they'd like to hear more about. Sometimes they are silly or sweet parts, but often they are "hotspots" - places where the writer touched on something very hot, very potent, and backed off. A place where a writer, where a human, is hiding something.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
|Olbrich Botanical Gardens in Madison WI|
Dylan saunters over, surprised by how beautiful the moment is - crystal clear water, a gorgeous lily bloom, an unblinking frog. But not by the presence of a frog on a lily pad.
"Haven't you seen that before?" she asks.
"Nope. Not once. Have you?"
"Once before, I think."
"I mean, I have an image in my head of it - from Frogger, from fairy tales, but never in reality."
And never like this, even in those fairy tales - cartoons with frog princes, comic print images.
Reality is so much more glorious. It feels an understatement to say this, almost redundant, except for that we forget. I forget, at least. Do you?