Wednesday, January 30, 2008 Delen: Writing 2 By Annie Delen Jade Mind
IT'S a Monday. As expected, my mind has to be jumpstarted with caffeine concentrate from its two-day hibernation. But that did not stop me from catnapping inside the Jeepney on my way to work. (Yep, the traffic along Bokawkan Road had not miraculously disappeared over the weekend.) So, by the time I got to the Academy, the brain cells I have left after last Friday's session with the "four eyed group" was once again in a state of semi stupor. What I would give for a mug of steaming black coffee!
In came my first student. (Un)fortunately, he too was not mentally prepared for class. So, for the next excruciating fifty minutes, we tried to discuss about the fashion industry and its penchant for using skinny models ala Twiggy. He just wasn't interested, and who could blame him, the runways of Milan, New York and Paris are so far removed from his sense of reality and mine for that matter. But we got through it all right without climbing the walls. After all, it does pay to know what is happening to the rest of the world.
Then, it was time for writing class. My four students in it were featured in my previous column without their knowledge and consent. For this lapse and lack of rudimentary manner, I wholeheartedly apologize. This is our third week together. And I definitely do not want to jeopardize whatever camaraderie was built in the past two weeks. They have been able to put up with all the weirdness that comes with this personality; it takes people with special characters to do that.
I bring in their essay notebooks, which I brought home last Friday and left for the customary nicotine fix. I fell off the cigarette train obviously, so sue me. Let's nitpick over the details some other column. I've taken to rewriting their essays in full after I have checked them. Most people would probably think that's a waste of time and I don't blame them. However, my dance card is not really that filled these days despite all my extra curricular activities (all legal mind you) so why not bring out the colored pens and start working on the latest efforts of my four would be writers. Who knows, I just might become a mentor for someone out there. Here's a tip, it's easier to get into someone's head with the proper degree of libation ... for me that is.
Lest I be misunderstood, I do take my responsibilities seriously. But I learned from experience that alcohol delivered to the brain in proper dosages can be very helpful in firing up my thought processes. The trick is ... MODERATION. If you don't know the meaning of the word, two things; look it up in your dictionary or sign up for the next A.A (Alcoholics Anonymous) meeting. Of course this approach does not apply to everyone. Some come up with the greatest ideas after fogging the room with toxic smoke (like my father), others do their thinking best after several cups of the blackest coffee ever produced, others clear their brains by pounding the sidewalk, more than a few think best behind the wheel while driving along seemingly endless highways and there are those who shout "Eureka!" and change the course of human history by that one word. To each his own.
Going back to my class of four; when I said grab pen and paper and usher everyone into the blinding sunlight in search for inspiration, I did just that last Thursday. Like a couple of kids playing hooky for the first time, we headed out to VOCAS for a quick peek. All four were suitably amazed that such a place existed in the heart of Session Road. There we were, transported in time, walking around the collection of eclectic art lost in our individual thoughts. Their mission: soak up the atmosphere and let the creative juices flow. I would love to include excerpts of their essays in this article but I still have to ask their permission before I can do that. Suffice to say that in trying to teach them the craft, they in turn taught me ... nay, reminded me that writing involves not only stringing up the words to come up with coherent sentences but opening up oneself to the experience.
