Be Free
I have regularly tutored at Valley Forge Military Academy. In the grand scheme of things, it's no better or worse than any other school.
However, it's one of the few places where I instantly feel dirty if I touch anything – and I mean just plain physically dirty. I feel the essence of unwashed, non-deodorized, military-esque, teenage boy grime clinging to the tables and chairs and even floating in the air.
I wash my hands frequently, and I try to open door handles with my sleeves.
This is not to demean the school itself or any of my students. I have encountered some of the most admirable, respectful, intelligent young men during my years of tutoring there.
Nevertheless, on the whole, they're a reliably grimy lot.
Just before coming here (to blogger.com), I figured I'd give a quick glance over Facebook. Just like with some of my students, I always have hope for it. Receiving all the data, one should logically infer that there is no hope; no progress will be made. Still, I always believe that revelation is waiting just behind the next example, the next question, the next explanation. Similarly, I always have hope for Facebook. There are the occasional outbursts of brilliance; mostly, it seems to be a sad stage of noncommittal dreams that have long since been incapacitated.
But back to the original analogy. I scanned across Facebook: Hillary Clinton, "How to Quit Overeating in 5 Days," and, actually, I don't want to go back.
I had vanilla ice cream with peanut butter swirl tonight with just the right amount of Nesquik powder. I have no idea what ingredients were in the Nesquik, but the ice cream had nonfat milk, sugar, peanut butter (peanuts, sugar, and salt), and I think one other real-life food ingredient! It was magical.
Speaking of magic, I overuse that word. I appreciate what Thor said though: “Your ancestors called it magic, but you call it science. I come from a land where they are one and the same.”
A brilliant writer named Arthur C. Clarke said the following: "Any technology, no matter how primitive, is magic to those who don't understand it."
I suppose I just don't understand a lot of things, which is why I would call so many things magical. I'm down with that.
You can find more stuff by Clarke here.
I chew my fingernails mercilessly.
Do you write?! I wish you would write. I really want to read more, and I'm sure you'd be great if you simply set your hand to it more often. It doesn't have to be anything fancy. Just write once every day or so, and your writing will perforce improve. I also would love to read your poetry. I have a special fondness for rhyming poetry, but I'd be glad to read any of it.
I would love to tell you how indifferent I am to talk about a certain subject!, so I won't mention it.
Werbel is poised for progress. I have him printed out and ready to go. I have a small errand tomorrow, and then I've set aside a solid block of time to read him – and perhaps even write, but I'm not going to push him.
A kind friend had some very kind words about Werbel, and I am much encouraged. I was already encouraged about him, but I was extra encouraged. Basically, it's a lot of encouragement.
Seriously, though, I want to read your writing. There's good writing, there's bad writing, but there's little that is as powerful as a friend's writing. Literary prowess has its own appeal, but there's something – here it comes – magical about written words from dear friends. They are threads of life, sips of life, to which one can return again and again.
If "money is congealed [life]," then written words are tiny fountains of life.
I want to read your writing. You don't need to fear; you just need to write (and then I'll read it!).
One of the best things that ever happened to me and writing was getting a clipboard. The clipboard has no restrictions: it can be crappy, self-pitying drivel that I trash; it can be inspired narration that I transcribe; it can be anything in between. It never makes me feel like I have to prove anything. It just says, "Hey, do you feel like writing? Drawing? Scribbling? Rambling? Complaining? Praying? Itemizing? Sketching? Be free."
However, it's one of the few places where I instantly feel dirty if I touch anything – and I mean just plain physically dirty. I feel the essence of unwashed, non-deodorized, military-esque, teenage boy grime clinging to the tables and chairs and even floating in the air.
I wash my hands frequently, and I try to open door handles with my sleeves.
This is not to demean the school itself or any of my students. I have encountered some of the most admirable, respectful, intelligent young men during my years of tutoring there.
Nevertheless, on the whole, they're a reliably grimy lot.
Just before coming here (to blogger.com), I figured I'd give a quick glance over Facebook. Just like with some of my students, I always have hope for it. Receiving all the data, one should logically infer that there is no hope; no progress will be made. Still, I always believe that revelation is waiting just behind the next example, the next question, the next explanation. Similarly, I always have hope for Facebook. There are the occasional outbursts of brilliance; mostly, it seems to be a sad stage of noncommittal dreams that have long since been incapacitated.
But back to the original analogy. I scanned across Facebook: Hillary Clinton, "How to Quit Overeating in 5 Days," and, actually, I don't want to go back.
I had vanilla ice cream with peanut butter swirl tonight with just the right amount of Nesquik powder. I have no idea what ingredients were in the Nesquik, but the ice cream had nonfat milk, sugar, peanut butter (peanuts, sugar, and salt), and I think one other real-life food ingredient! It was magical.
Speaking of magic, I overuse that word. I appreciate what Thor said though: “Your ancestors called it magic, but you call it science. I come from a land where they are one and the same.”
A brilliant writer named Arthur C. Clarke said the following: "Any technology, no matter how primitive, is magic to those who don't understand it."
I suppose I just don't understand a lot of things, which is why I would call so many things magical. I'm down with that.
You can find more stuff by Clarke here.
I chew my fingernails mercilessly.
Do you write?! I wish you would write. I really want to read more, and I'm sure you'd be great if you simply set your hand to it more often. It doesn't have to be anything fancy. Just write once every day or so, and your writing will perforce improve. I also would love to read your poetry. I have a special fondness for rhyming poetry, but I'd be glad to read any of it.
I would love to tell you how indifferent I am to talk about a certain subject!, so I won't mention it.
Werbel is poised for progress. I have him printed out and ready to go. I have a small errand tomorrow, and then I've set aside a solid block of time to read him – and perhaps even write, but I'm not going to push him.
A kind friend had some very kind words about Werbel, and I am much encouraged. I was already encouraged about him, but I was extra encouraged. Basically, it's a lot of encouragement.
Seriously, though, I want to read your writing. There's good writing, there's bad writing, but there's little that is as powerful as a friend's writing. Literary prowess has its own appeal, but there's something – here it comes – magical about written words from dear friends. They are threads of life, sips of life, to which one can return again and again.
If "money is congealed [life]," then written words are tiny fountains of life.
I want to read your writing. You don't need to fear; you just need to write (and then I'll read it!).
One of the best things that ever happened to me and writing was getting a clipboard. The clipboard has no restrictions: it can be crappy, self-pitying drivel that I trash; it can be inspired narration that I transcribe; it can be anything in between. It never makes me feel like I have to prove anything. It just says, "Hey, do you feel like writing? Drawing? Scribbling? Rambling? Complaining? Praying? Itemizing? Sketching? Be free."
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| "Be free." |
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