I used to HATE rereading anything I had to write in school all through public school and college, actually. Yes, there were isolated pieces that caught me and I worked at them but generally, my entire writing process was complete drudgery. I loved school… all of it. I loved reading, discussing, thinking, socializing..teachers…everything about school, well not math too often… but I was a school Geek with no interest in being an English teacher… I was all about Social Studies… but the essay for anyone was a walk on hot coals… and there was no personal writing-.. Wait- we did write editorials in 8th grade SS and some of my college English classes were isolated gems when I did care about my writing, but nope… not till I was 40 and wrote a piece about the worst teacher I ever had… that story was part of my oral history and I loved spilling it out onto a page so it could go public…I worked hard to capture that moment and then share it… with my writing group at Bard College and then for our celebratory evening… That was my beginning when I became a writer and wrote for myself…
and 30 years later I sit with my computer and create one version after the next…
Who could believe that I now relish the process of revision when I create a video…
Some of you might remember this piece that I posted early in March, knowing that I’d be back to it and it’s not totally done right now, but the missing pieces will arrive when my collaborator, Kim White comes back down from his trek in the Himalayas. Yes, the Himalaya Mountains 🙂
I worked hours yesterday, happy hours, tightening, moving video clips and photos around, adding a voice over that Kim created for another piece and I think works here as well… and now there’s a new piece up on You Tube, unlisted because we are still waiting to make it easier to donate to Road to a Better Life when Kim gets the official approval and we can launch the website… but for now… here’s a new version… less than 3 minutes now…
What do you think? Notice any changes??? I love being in this process and to think where I came from….
Sometimes I forget where I came from and any new ahha.. is really just the next chapter of awareness in the world….so it was last night… I actually thought I came to a new discovery and really it’s just the logic of my life of good luck.
I was born in 1949. In the early years when I was younger than most of the people around me I thought it was cool to have a birthday in the 40’s, at the end of a decade. but more than that I grew up in upside down times… from the conformity of the 50’s, and the political terror of the McCarthy era hunting for Communists, to the revolution of the 60’s and the power of music- the Beatles, the Stones, Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell… JFK, assassinations of heroes, Woodstock…political activism on our college campuses…
I remember Stan, a smart kid in my first English class. He stayed behind to talk one one day, figuring out that I was in the 9th grade when the Beatles arrived in the USA and I watched him put together my musical/political life history… “Wow, Ms. K. I am so jealous! You were right in the thick of it- the Beatles…Woodstock, the Doors. Life is so boring for me now.”
“Don’t worry Stan. There’s so much more ahead for both of us.” In the next year Stan was even willing to dive off a stage with me when I started directing high school theater.
And just in the last decade there was.. Obama… and now :Trump…. Mueller report… new dems to get to know… always music…
It really never stops, right?
Yes, I couldn’t have asked for a better start to my life… 1949 was just the perfect place to begin… and trying hard to make the best of year 70, when I returned home from Cambodia last July and started dreaming of work in Thailand I didn’t want the excitement to stop.
I made a pledge of gratitude…what can I do to make the world a better place?
Maybe the roots were here:.
And How cool is this? A poem gift from my buddy, Kevin Hodgson
I am only
a flat rock
on the surface
I am only
a single voice
in the world
you are only
the single person
It may be yet
on the ripples
for we follow