As I'm sitting here doing homework (sidenote: on Thanksgiving break...) my family is watching this BBC PBS Masterpiece Theatre show. I'm not sure what it's called, but it's entertaining, seeing as how I only look up every few minutes and catching bits and pieces of it.
The parts that I keep catching are the romantic parts. And they are incredibly sweet, let me tell you. People back in the 1800 and early 1900s knew what romance was.
I wish we still knew what romance was. It's practically a dead art.
I sure wish it wasn't, though.
All the boys I've gone with are proof that romance is a dead art.
Maybe that's why I'm still single. I'm holding out for someone who wants to bring it back to life.
We'll see if anyone tries.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
"Now you know I can't smile without you."
I never thought it would be so hard to write a play.
I'm working on a project for my Rhetoric And Writers class, and we were given the opportunity to write in any format we wished, saying really anything we wished rhetorically. Stupidly, I thought this was a great opportunity to try writing a play. I've always wanted to, so I figured I would just go for it.
I forgot to look before I jumped.
Maybe it's not even the play format itself, but the content that's bothering me.
I decided I would write about a priest who is young and fresh, but already tired. He is beginning to think of his relationship with God as more of a dutiful marriage that he is committed to instead of the fiery passion he once had. A young nameless woman comes to confessional one day and tells the priest that she is dying and is scared. Through conversation, the priest realizes that this woman has a passion for God beyond belief, but has let her passion go so far that she can't work out her own death.
I was proud of this story when it first came. Now I just want to be done with it.
But I can't stop. Even if my story is crap, it's become a symbol to me now. I feel like I quit when things get old, I can't quit this.
I think I have a problem attaching symbolism and metaphors to everything I do.
In other news, keep calm cause Neville got sexy.
I'm working on a project for my Rhetoric And Writers class, and we were given the opportunity to write in any format we wished, saying really anything we wished rhetorically. Stupidly, I thought this was a great opportunity to try writing a play. I've always wanted to, so I figured I would just go for it.
I forgot to look before I jumped.
Maybe it's not even the play format itself, but the content that's bothering me.
I decided I would write about a priest who is young and fresh, but already tired. He is beginning to think of his relationship with God as more of a dutiful marriage that he is committed to instead of the fiery passion he once had. A young nameless woman comes to confessional one day and tells the priest that she is dying and is scared. Through conversation, the priest realizes that this woman has a passion for God beyond belief, but has let her passion go so far that she can't work out her own death.
I was proud of this story when it first came. Now I just want to be done with it.
But I can't stop. Even if my story is crap, it's become a symbol to me now. I feel like I quit when things get old, I can't quit this.
I think I have a problem attaching symbolism and metaphors to everything I do.
In other news, keep calm cause Neville got sexy.
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