Tag Archives: English Teacher

a jot

24 May

While you overthink

21 May

and frantically search for a quick solve somewhere else, your answer impatiently awaits in the Now.


Take time in the morning to

12 May

assemble and enliven your character.

You want certain facets to change?

Re-write them.

You’re displeased with something?

Remove it.

You hold the pen. The pages are yours.

Be the author,



4 May

View at Medium.com


30 Apr

View at Medium.com

for interpretation

30 Apr

She tells me something,

I listen but don’t at all, not a 


I glare, meditate, then die.

Mocha first.

28 Apr

Needing four shots. Or at least I have myself convinced that’s what I need. Pretty sure I do. Not wanting to work today, only play more with these poems and stories in head. All I want to do. Writer symptoms. That’s all it is. Going to write in car, these voices in this shop annoying me– not to mention the steam sounds, the cars driving by for the drive-through window. The morning reinforces the reality of needing your own space, YOUR geography, your quietude for what you need to do.

In car and away from where coffee’s made and blended, foamed and whipped and everything that makes sounds and sends more scents to air which distract. The lecture of morning hours descends with varied syncopation and delivery. It’s clear what I’m to do, a student, revolving in and for my studies, for students in any of my classes. The metal racks meant for barrels, left, reinforce work, the Road, the progress and travel of self from one set of scenes to next. More needs noted, more needs to be on page. Everything teaches, all visuals instruct. And, you can always re-write.

This morning I

27 Apr

left bed feeling decision, that I’ve decided where I’m going, where I’m headed. We are all in a sight of desire, of some apexing aim. Make this morning a morning where you refuse not to see it, live in and think from it.

Now Pages (writing prompt…)

24 Apr

Writing your scene, your currency, right where you are and what you see but not how it appears.  How you’re to put it to page.  Make it something different, something more exciting or dangerous, something odd.  Make what you see, the room you’re in or the picnic bench at which you sit, something else.  Become someone else in a different location.  Make it believably crazed.  Your writing in this piece should not only reflect your imagination’s expansive qualities and aptitude, but curiosity.  What the room speaks if you were there but in a different tilt and tint of it?  And, maybe, turn the room you’re in to something not even remotely contained.  Make it a cliffside, a beach, some alcove in an Arizona canyon.

Writing about your Now, yes, is focused on specifics but as well distances itself from where you are, who you are.  Crazed, and believably, honestly.  With sittings like this, producing pages predicated on and in immediacy there’s a devout liberty to your instincts.  Just write where you’re thoughts wish travel.  Curiosity’s its own cognition, and it can unearth gems for you, often.  But, there need be practice and inward conversation.  With this cue, remember, something else.  But, honest, believable, magnetic.  Right now where you write should never be seen as something boring, or incapable of translation and, or, re-translation.  All in your space is invitation.  Another intention of this exercise.

(my Now…). Stoic and stale cubicle spaces, trapping and teaching… “Don’t ever come back here again.’ They command.  I look at the gray-blue-purple-shale-coal color and feel sick, asking self ‘why’.  Phone rings, I imagine picking it up and someone telling I’m being sent out on assignment, to Africa, to write about tourism around a wildlife preserve and the animals roaming and surrounding.  Looking at the carpet walls of my cubicle, I see the stretch of that wild, arid stretch.  Some zebra, a couple wildebeest, then some other thin-legged animal that starts running.  I stay here in the swivel chair, listening to people make calls and promise things.  Sell things.  Things.  I want something else.

***Take a thousand words to write your now, right where you are, or somewhere you were recently.  Proximity and honesty are key, so be sure the location into which you dive and delve is truthful regarding when you were there.


Writing on my lunch break as I always do,

30 Mar

but this time with more purpose, further realizing my purpose and what I’m to do in it.  These written meditations, they provide more musical growth and character development, more motioned Truth.  I’m seeing purpose as re-calculation and re-calibration.  You don’t just know your purpose, you learn it.  Hence, the exploration, the openness and the eventual understanding from it.  Writing on lunch I collect in an empty office, seeing more of what I’m to do…. If I want to make more money, I do this…. I want to be happier, I do this…. YOU, want to have a certain mode of living, you…. Purpose entails an interconnectedness of election and sight.  Over and over I think about this, my purpose, what I’m supposed to do at a certain time, and if what I’m doing is bringing me closer to purpose and truth or if it’s ushering me in the wrong direction, further away.

My momentum, these stages in this story, my story, further understanding my present present, my actualization of thought.  If I wanted, I could just walk out of here, leave the winery and the wine industry, and do something else.  But I don’t as I’m certain it further assembles my character, purposes my purpose.  You find yourself at an age, at whatever age, where you see your character more objectively, and evaluate your actions with more intention, a little more scrutiny and centeredness.  That’s where I am… these inward jots, helping me see, assisting in my roundedness of purpose, knowing my purpose, and acting from it.

Over twenty minutes left in my break, and I have no interest in eating.  I need to get somewhere, somewhere with my character, with my story, with my writing and eventual travels, with teaching and how I want to teach, if I’m even teaching.  One of my resolves, my bourns if you will, is to speak with students, everywhere.  To help them realize that their goals are more than attainable, that they are already there perceptively they just to build the bridge to the material, the tangible.  The student life and experience, mentality and movement has forever been my purpose, why I woke up this morning wanting to learn— more about myself and my career as an educator, about the world around me, my “students” in both classes, everything.  Being a student myself and connecting more to the student’s story and narrative, largely tells my purpose.

A student.  Me.  MY purpose.  Writing on lunch as only a student with an assignment due would do.  Today, I keep myself purposeful, a student, even when bored… and if I’m finding myself a bit idle, I’ll write why I feel that way.  Deconstruct and reconstruct it.  This break, nearly not happening as I was tempted to go get tacos down the road, or something, teaches.  I learn.  I’m in the learner’s lean, finishing my assignments, closer to graduation, closer to more of the purpose.  All parcels of your purpose, with work, will live with defined togetherness, no gaps, crucial realizations and loud understanding of Self.