I begin this tired. I will end this tired. It has pulsed through my veins and been absorbed into my bones, this weariness. I cannot shed it. I write this, and I am tired.
I have, however, thrown up something as far as writing, but not what I was hoping for. This is day 3 of my year long journey and I have four days left to write a short story. I haven't written a single word. No, today I wrote a poem.
Today I read The Lost Ship by W. W. Jacobs. I love stories about ships and sailors and maritime folklore, so I picked it for the name. It was a fantastic beginning. It was full of emotion, and the imagery was ripe with phrases like "kissed their grimy hands to receding Tetby" and "bearing on its wings the sound of the waves as they came crashing ashore."
There was a moment of hope in it, about the lost ship. The ending, though, was what I fear when I write short stories, or any story for that matter. It felt like the ending rushed up on me like a ghoul in a haunted house. I felt it could have been meatier. Or perhaps it was the longing I felt along with the village people, who had anticipated more of their own stories. All in all, I give it 4 out of 5 stars.
The poem I read today was a shortie. black ink on blue lines by Aine Callipygian. I find it mildly amusing that I keep randomly clicking on links that pertain to my current goal. (Such as yesterday's article by dr b.) While this is noticeably short, I found it powerful in both its universally themed imagery of ink on blank paper, as well as the final line, which is my plight. Well worth the read.
The classic poem I read was I Stand Alone by Du Fu, which I chose based off the preview (first two lines). It was definitely full of imagery, nature themed, which generally, to me anyway, brings a sense of uplifting and muted joy. However, with this poem, the imagery lent to the melancholic mood. I adored it. It seems to fit my current state of mind.
The essay I read, Following the Light: Opening Doors to Science in Tunisia by Zohra Ben Lakhdar, was amazing and it brought me out of my funk. I have to say, with the first few sentences I was about to dump it and this was going to be "The essay I attempted to read" instead. I have my own personal views on feminism and I thought this was going to be a long-suffering, boring read about how women are kept underfoot. However, I am coming to realize my own prejudices, and I decided to read the article anyway.
I'm glad I did. I underestimate the hurdles women in some countries have to jump over to achieve their dreams. My dream? I have variously dreamt of being a marine biologist, a writer, a journalist, a photographer, among other things, but my honest dream now is to be the best mother I can be to my kids. But is this because I already have them?
This "essay," which felt more like an article to me, made me realize, indeed, remember, dreams from before I had children. So why not? For women without children, there is nothing to stop them from pursuing their dreams. I can honestly say I did not realize my dream was to be World's Best Mother before I had kids, but that does not make my dream any less valid than a woman whose dream is to be an astronaut. But I digress.
She is one fascinating, strong, and smart woman. I don't think that molecular science was of any interest to me before reading this, but the idea of looking through a telescope at plant tissue to identify pollutants sounds like a lot of fun.
But that's not all she did. She got a lot of education and she is still fighting to get funding for her projects in Tunisia. It's really a great read and I can't recommend it enough.
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