Writer's Notebook- The Gatherings Of Summer
Summer Samples From The
Writer’s Notebook
Random Notebook gatherings. Looking back, observing, reflecting, the summer break is a great time to read ,write and collect. The act of writing begins with an idea and then putting your thoughts down on the page, one word- and then another. It is practice. It involves the forming of habits. School resumes sooner than we like. Launch a fantastic year in writing by offering your students a glimpse into your writing life. Present as a teacher who writes. To invoke a famous advertising quote- Just Do It!
LOOKING BACK
The backyard remains at the centre of many of
my childhood memories. So much seemed to happen in this space.
We played many different games in the
confines of the backyard. We learned to socialize and be gracious about victory
and defeat. Simple games like giant’s treasure, chasey and releaso were enacted
here.
It’s where we ran, chased wrestled and fought.
It’s where I wrestled the giant who lived across the street, Ronald Hope,
before he thrust me aside and my head collided with a heavy and totally unforgiving
cement roller. A most disturbing gushing of blood and eight stitches in my
forehead were mine to endure.
We swung from the clothesline and played a
host of games involving a ball. With my football I deadheaded my mother’s
favourite chrysanthemums before being banishment to play in the street. I
played cricket with my sister until the evening gloom made it impossible to see
the ball.
At one point I tried turning the backyard
into a mini golf putting green and dug a series of holes into which I buried a
series of old jam tins. My dad made me remove them as I had failed to proper planning
approval.
In the summertime the backyard became the
scene for evening concerts. Chairs were set up on the lawn for the parents and
invited grannies and assorted relatives where they would be regaled with a
series of questionable thespian acts.
The backyard was the setting for whispered
secrets, laughter and disagreements. And it was where we sometimes went to weep
when life was unfair.
REFLECTION ON THE WRITING LIFE
Writers need the experience of both solitude
and song at various times. I must attune myself to allowing these forces to
exert their significant influence upon me. I must remain open to all they
offer. Sometimes being among the throng is a compelling urge. I seek out
people, colour movement and sound. It is equally important to be at ease in my
own company sitting still and watching, thinking and observing, reflecting. I
am enriched by both experiences.
______________________________________________________
OBSERVATIONS
It’s market day on Mornington’s Main Street.
The numbers in attendance are swelled by the fact that it is Summer school
holiday time. It is also a day with absolutely no beach potential.
Market stalls, prams and strollers mingle
with pedestrian shoppers for a footprint on the pavement. In the midst of this
meandering mass, a boy of about nine years spontaneously makes an
inappropriate, yet very childlike decision. He places both hands on the
footpath and launches into a handstand. He pauses momentarily, shoes skyward
before beginning the inevitable downward descent. As the arc of his legs move
him back to his former upright pose, his feet narrowly miss a fellow market
goer. Head quickly averted the fortunate market shopper moves away and onward.
The boy’s mother moves quickly to the misguided junior gymnast’s side and
immediately offers some words of wisdom.’ It is probably not the time nor place
to be doing handstands. Think about where you are. You’re lucky you didn’t wipe
someone out with your flying feet. Please walk like everyone else.’
Kids rarely stop to think about potential
consequences. They just feel an urge to do something- and it happens!
THE WRITER AS COLLECTOR
Conversations
float in the air. As I sit quietly in a cafe, benignly sipping on a morning
coffee, rich offerings drift my way. I feel obliged to record them in all their
raw beauty. My notebook receives these morsels with great relish- ‘I’m trying
to finish my tan with forty minutes per day. I’m working on parts that require
me to hide behind the rubbish bins in the backyard.’ My delight at these words
is barely concealed.
Comments
Post a Comment