fairfield MFA
intention
So, I’ve got this thing… It’s called: A GREAT LIFE.
I feel the most myself here on little Ender’s Island during my graduate school residency. I’m surrounded by brilliance in so many shapes and colors and sizes.
There are the teachers who have published remarkable books and memoirs and poetry. The teachers who are passionate about sharing what they know of the craft. The teachers who not only want to help you grow as a student writer, but as an individual- someone who will influence the world in small and large ways. The teachers who are cheerleaders, motivating us whether or not we’ve ever stepped foot in their classroom or their seminars. The teachers, who might write in a different genre than us, but are devoted to our survival and success and honestly invested in our writing and goals for this program and beyond. The teachers you get to know on a personal level. They ask how my dog Fenway is, congratulate me on the birth of my nieces, inquire about my new job.
And the beauty. The beauty of the river as the sun sets in the morning, the snow, the sand, the rocks, the waves, the buildings, the chapels. Pictures will follow for sure.
My peers are remarkable individuals from all walks of life- accountants, teachers, psychiatrists, waiters, census employees, nurses, recent college graduates, people who got their first degree 50 years before, CEOs of large corporations, travel writers, stay at home dads, drummers…. I was blessed with the best FU MFA family. My “big bro” and “little sis” feel real to me, like we share the same cells. I love them. I admire them. I want to emulate their goodness and intelligence.
The biggest lesson this school has taught me and I have absorbed in every cell of my body is to trust in the process. Kind of like a whatever is meant to be will be kind of thing. I don’t questions things here on the island. I don’t worry about who I will get as a mentor or what I will do over the semester for example, because I know that I will get exactly what I need…and I am sure of that. I feel it and know it deep down.
I need to start bringing this feeling and acceptance and intention into other areas of my life.
Today has been a beautiful day. Starting last night: I ate a scrumptious dinner with great friends, listened to three amazing faculty readings (one of which my my mentor from last semester whom I admire more and more and more every single time I listen to him), and then partied the night away with faculty and students on a gorgeous island. We counted down the seconds until 2011 (one of my favorite moments every year) and then I followed my MFA little sister’s Cuban heritage by having 12 red grapes and taking a moment to reflect and think of a goal, well less a goal and more of an intention. I stood up until 5am, woke up early  and then ran into the water with a bunch of other crazy writers for the Polar Bear Plunge. I felt alive. I had lively discussions at lunch, came back to my room and relaxed and landed in a conversation with the wonderful girl across the hall who’s determination and dedication to her writing I admire. I didn’t leave the island to go get a coffee or photograph the Mystic bridge or get some more floss like I had planned. I didn’t nap like I really should have.
I also didn’t complain or worry about everything I didn’t do like I normally would have. Why? Because I was present in every moment of this day. I am alive and experiencing everything- an unexpected conversation, tea instead of coffee, pretzel M&Ms, the rush and burn of the ice cold water- the ache in my shoulders and back mostly because I need some more rest. I didn’t do everything I wanted to do, but I did do everything I should be doing. Trust….in the process….
I have very mixed feelings about resolutions. I’ve mentioned here before that I really like new beginnings in all forms. The first of the month makes me happy. My birthday and new years start my life fresh for me. Weddings, babies, graduations, etc= all fresh starts. But resolutions always feel empty to me.
So…my intent? I intend to be a more dedicated student and writer. I intend to “trust in the process” in all areas of my life. I intend to love my friends and family deeply. I intend to remember to also love myself deeply and treat myself kindly. But most of all… I intend to be brave.
If I had to sum up 2010 in one word, I’d probably choose Change or Opportunity or something in that regards.
For 2011? In 2011, I want my word to be Brave.
nothing novel
Earlier today I mentioned that I usually have striking thoughts at “12:24am” of possible blog posts, writing ideas, etc.
Well, its 12:33am and as much as I was hoping some magical thoughts would appear, they’ve appeared to allude me this evening. Did I mention though that I finally received my MacBook Pro in the mail tonight? The jury is still out on how I feel about this new computer. Part of me is so excited, and I just can’t hide it, but then the other part of me feels like I’m Sleeping Beauty waiting for that damn kiss already! But, I’ve tried to play a little tonight, and I am head over heels in love with the PhotoBooth application. I might look like a hot mess, but I swear this will majorly help me with my 101 in 1001 project. I thought I’d share with you one of this evenings masterpieces:
There is one more thing I want to address. Someone found my blog the other day by searching for “Fairfield MFA”….yikes! I wish I were actually writing more posts, because I kind of feel like a bad representation of the student body. Regardless though, if that person ever comes back to read me again… WELCOME, and feel free to ask me anything you want to know about Fairfield and the MFA program. I am finishing up my first semester in the program, and in all honesty, I am head over heels completely in love with the school. I had a ridiculously hard time trying to decide which offer I should take for MFA programs, and after the decision was made, it was impossible for me to look back. It seems like every day that program surprises me with wonderful, exciting, new opportunities, etc. Also, the staff (and students) are simply jaw dropping superb. So send me an email or leave me a comment, and we can chat more.
Just don’t judge the program by my cliches or bad grammar or lack of capitalization. Yeah, that’s not a good idea 😉
empty space
I received my critiqued second writing packet back from my mentor today.
Its is always so interesting what someone has to say about your writing. Especially a person who knows a lot about the craft and who’s opinion you trust and admire.
I wrote an essay about what it is like to have an A.D.D. brain, yet be a student- the struggle between making sure I take the notes I need on the lessons I am being taught, and writing down everything else floating around in my psyche. The basis of the story can be summed up in these few sentences:
- Burn my notebooks when I die.
- I spend about 40% of my time in class making lists of chores I need to do or errands I need to run or tattoos I would like to one day get.
- “Need to make the decision before you start writing: Am I willing to bare myself? If the answer is no, then pack up your shit and go home.â€
That last bullet is an actual quotation from my writing notebook during this past residency. The best part of that essay are the excerpts I included from my notebook. Problem is that I’m not quite sure how to structure the piece and where to include these awesome statements.
Lary suggested I read the following poem, as the topic is somewhat similar, and like most good poems, the word choice is precise. I liked it so much I thought I would share it with you all.
Marginalia” – Billy Collins
Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O’Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.Other comments are more offhand, dismissive –
“Nonsense.†“Please!†“HA!!†–
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
why wrote “Don’t be a ninnyâ€
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls “Metaphor†next to a stanza of Eliot’s.
Another notes the presence of “Ironyâ€
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
“Absolutely,†they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
“Yes.†“Bull’s-eye.†“My man!â€
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written “Man vs. Natureâ€
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird signing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake’s furious scribbling.Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents’ living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one pageA few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
“Pardon the egg salad stains, but I’m in love.â€