William Blake and Face Eating Unicorns ...
Yes, it's time to Believe in Your Dreams ... or else ... Face Eating Unicorns will jump from the butts of pissed off chicks that have had about enough of your excuse-ridden shit.
Creative Writing week 2 ... or is it Week 3 already? Week 3!
I have to now include my time sitting in British Lit, which is the class just before Creative Writing, as it's something I can't ignore as a kickstart or -- outright bombdrop -- to my imagination.
So, British Lit ...
I was confronted with the assertion regarding the Arthurian Legend being the catalyst to Western Expansion across the globe, being that it legitimized the collateral damage because 'they were the chosen ones' so to speak and in 'God's favour.' William Blake of course breathing life into that machine as it rolled along steadily for the British Empire. Add in Noah cursing his son, Ham, and it seems you may have a full-fledged recipe for either disaster or Manifest Destiny. Oh, Joseph Campbell ... you saw it all ...
I didn't even get a chance for a cup of tea yet at that point.
There be no slackers at 9:30 in the morning for Steve Acree's lectures. I struggle to keep up with the thinking and definitely do my best to keep my trap shut, but in a class like that it does get muy dificile.
At 12:30 in Palm Desert on Thursday, it was overcast, rainy with thick clouds milling above ... time for Creative Writing with Amy Dibello. Love this class. Queue Black Sabbath:
Creative Writing on Thursday opened with an Author Lecture, which some know I cringe about, but wasn't that bad this time.
Now, don't get me wrong, I love hearing about the craft, but let's be honest, most writer's, myself included, are not the best sales people. When I hear someone lecturing, I want a Southern Baptist, not an info dump from the back of a bottle of Advil, but that's just me. Seriously.
I know, I have my failings. Being put to sleep by someone peanut-buttering dry tedium over my eyelids causes thine brain to drift through the etheral miasmic brine ... or some other such nonsensical place. I want to know about face-eating Unicorns that might hump you in your sleep if you don't write every day, not an application process on receiving state aid (for example) -- which, as you know, is soooo much more thrilling.
I think this is why I'm excited about this particular class, the instructor could have her own NPR Talk Show or Late-Night Info-mercial selling just about anything. You need the energy, and she has it. A lot of it. And not crazy unfocused energy either, like me. She would've made Carlos Castaneda proud as she was even adorned with her animal spirit for extra power.
Tuesday was a personal read-a-loud which caused me much distress as I get incredibly nervous reading in front of people, likely for the reasons mentioned above -- namely, I don't want to bore people to death and I fear I will bore people to death. I also hate hearing my own voice and a few other reasons to ice it over, making it something I may likely pass on next time around. I wrote about Insomnia. Reading it aloud showed me what crap I can create thinking it's not.
I enjoyed hearing everyone else's stories more and hearing their writing styles spoken aloud. It's good to know that there are some very talented people sitting within arms length of you. I need to be around creative people and creative minds. Otherwise, I turn too far inward.
So, now I get back to writing ... creatively ... lest unhappy Unicorns find me, hump me in my sleep and snack on my face.
Ride on, people ... ride on ...
Labels: Advil Bottle Info dump amy dibello Believe in your Dreams Black Sabbath British Lit Carlos Castaneda Creative Writing Journey to Ixtlan King Arthur Steve Acree Tales of Power unicorns William Blake