stacy was here (and probably spinning....)

 

 

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Stacy Was Here :
Back at the Beginning

Wednesday, February 27, 2002

I finally got my London journal finished and turned in. I know it's not the best example of my writing, but I left a lot of things out because I didn't really feel like they were appropriate fodder for academia. Who knows, maybe I should have left it all the way it was and just left myself and my musings open for grading, but more and more I'm finding where my boundaries are as far as whats public and whats private. Maybe it's just that I'm used to having these restrictions imposed upon me, and not really having that much say myself. That's probably why a lot of my poetry is so empty and trite... the sentiments I am most comfortable expressing are the ones I don't necessarily feel myself. It's hard for me to make it sound alive because I mentally rebel against attatching emotion to anything tangible that I identify with. I guess there are a lot of reasons why this is coming to my attention now. In Harlem Ren we're reading about Blues Women, and we're presenting certain parts of the book in groups. The section my group is covering discusses how women used the blues to name, and thus master, their hardships. And I've been noticing my tendency to hold back, almost constantly. I am, for the most part, accutely aware of how I feel about everything. Denial is not really a game I play with myself. Still, I rarely express what I am actually thinking. Even when I seem to I'm really just using someone elses vehicle to move around the issue, which essentialy fails because it never approaches the center of things.

I think I'm going to be experiencing a burst of creativity soon, mostly because I can feel it bubbling up inside me. Like today, for some reason, I just really want to sing. Not sing along with something, but really sing, really loud and unreserved. I don't know if I actually will because I don't have a secluded place to do so (and I'm not sure I'm ready for an audience with this, really), but it's a new urge, so it's kind of surprising enough in itself. It just made me think about the things I've written, and how there have only been one or two that I have really made my own, and not just a regurgitation of someone elses ideas. Granted, people don't exist in a vacuum, so it's not really realistic to try and do something no one else has ever done, but I think that by thoroughly investing yourself into something, even if it's bad, at least it becomes yours in the process. So maybe I'll write tonight, or paint, or just do something to scratch the surface and see if I can see to the bottom of this new possibility. Perhaps it's a way to dig my way out of this mental mediocrity and really find something in myself worth sharing.

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