Hard Water in the Holy Land

It's difficult to wash your hair with hard water, especially when it's as long as mine. Herein lie my reflections on exiting my comfortable stateside life for a year in the City of David.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Writer's Block

28 November 2006

Clearly this blog is not meant to be a regularly-updated thing. My apologies to all of you who keep checking it for updates on my life. It's been interesting to see how not having a desk job has stood in the way of my being able to spend lots and lots of time on the computer. In any case, a few musings on November:

One of the most exciting things I've been doing lately is taking this creative writing class at one of the liberal institutions of Jewish learning in this fair city. While I've yet to turn out anything particularly vibrant, I've been reminded how writing is a muscle, one which requires regular exercise to be honed and sharpened. Perhaps the combination of this unused blog and the class will allow me to record some of the things I've been thinking about during my long walks around the city.

Unfortunately, whenever I sit down to write, all I come up with is...other people's poetry. Most of you know that my brain (and the brains of my dear Smel as well) absorb song lyrics and poetry like the veritable Pirke Avot spongy Jew. While this makes me a hit at parties (and my Thanksgiving cohort can attest to that), it does have the drawback of eliminating any possibilities for independent thought when faced with a writer's prompt. Thus, when my teacher told us to write on name changes, in honor of Sarah and Abraham, all I came up with was Phillip Larkin's wonderful "Maiden Name," and this week's parent-child relationships prompt pointed me to the lovely illustrated poem of my childhood, Delmore Schwartz's "I Am Cherry Alive, the Little Girl Sang." And then I have to stop writing and compulsively write down the poem I've remembered, and think about it a lot, and regress a bit to the age I was when I memorized it. Now I don't think the answer to my compulsive memorizing is to stop reading poetry, but it does present a bit of a challenge to my creative side.

And speaking of practice: this week in MADA, we learned to take blood pressure, and last week, we administered IVs on each other! Photos of my GIANT black and blue marks coming soon. At least I'll never have to be anyone's FIRST attempt at an IV again...I hope...