Summer in all its chlorine scented, air conditioned, peach hued, iced coffee glory is finally here. Finally. I almost don’t believe it. This was my first afternoon without obligations and I kept thinking to myself, ‘don’t I have algebra homework?’
The next three months will pass quickly, they always do, but I welcome their release. I have no obligations except to myself at this present moment.
And, frankly, that scares me. My writing… my writing has suffered severe neglect this year. Last year I finished writing a novel but this year I’ve only written a handful of poorly composed poems. I’m rather ashamed of myself. No not rather, very. Very ashamed. I sit here droning on and on about the importance of life and how one cannot be a really writer if they only talk about it while I sit and shirk the call to write for something less fulfilling but simpler.
I’m reading My Name is Asher Lev at present and (without getting into the moral complexities of the story) his dedication to his art convicts me to the core. I relate to his misunderstanding as a creator, but that is not enough. To be an artist one must create. To be a writer one must write.
To be a writer one must write.
I say that to myself over and over when I stare at the blank journal pages. It is not enough to simply want it. One must do something with that.
I feel like nothing. A formidable blank canvas. Possibility is exciting yes, but frightening. No potential frightens me because I am afraid that that is enough for me. I don’t want to be satisfied with potential and I have been content with potential. I want to create something that resonates within the caverns of peoples minds and hearts and I cannot do it if I do not write.
I’m terrified of my silence.
Anyway, I didn’t sit down with the intention to write all that. I genuinely didn’t. I sat down intending to write a fun post about the books I’m looking forward to reading and the movies I want to watch while I’m out of school.
But I needed to say that.
These last few months I’ve been off, not myself, and it wasn’t until the dust settled that I realized why. All that really just came pouring out because there was no longer anything to dam the flow.
With all that off my chest, here’re the books, movies, musicals, etc.
Here’s my *ahem* light summer reading plans.
- The Brother’s Karamazov
- Anna Karenina
- The Fountains of Summer
I might get to more than these, but presently I think Tolstoy and Dostoevsky are plenty enough to fill the coming weeks.
- The Thin Red Line (This is so so so nerdy of me but Terrence Malick has a new movie and I cannot wait to see it. Apparently it’s his best since The Tree of Life and wow. wow. wow. am I excited. Unfortunately it was just released at the Cannes Film Festival and won’t be out on the big screen till next year. But still. Another Malick? What could be better?)
- This Beautiful Fantastic
- Loving Vincent
- The Mirror (1975)
- Big Fish
- Swing Kids
I’m sure I’ll be at the beach quite a bit. My family lives fairly nearby and they, along with my friends, will definitely be wanting to go often. I like the beach… I do… but I’m really more of a mountain girl. But this summer I will try to enjoy the sand and the salt more for the sake of everyone around me. I’m really not the most enjoyable person to take to the beach unless you plan on reading all day. I apologize in advance for all those who know me reading this. Thanks for putting up with my strange aversion to the shore.
My family and I have an annual mountain vacation we take every summer. This little town we go to is absolutely gorgeous and has less than 800 people living in it. It’s just my kind of place. Thinking about it fills my heart with warmth and nostalgia. I absolutely cannot wait to be back there again. There’s something magical about peaks and pine trees and peach colored sunsets.
I’m going to summer camp a few states away and that’ll be the furthest I’ve ever been on my own. It’s a little nerve wracking. Okay actually very nerve wracking. But I’m super excited to make new friends, see new places, and grow closer to the Lord in the discomfort of being away from home and familiar faces. I think it’ll be good. Really good.
Then in August we’re going to the mountains again and that fills every four feet and eleven inches of me with happiness. I love the mountains.
There’s many many day trips I want to take. Art museums, new (to me) used bookstores, coffee shops… etc.
Road tips and airplane rides are great times to catch up on music and considering I have quite a few of those I’d really like to listen to both The Secret Garden and The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
To write at least two pages day.
To spend more meaningful time with my close friends and family. To strengthen the shallower friendships and nourish the deeper ones.
To stay away from Pinterest and Instagram and tv as much as I can. (If you see me active on Pinterest, seriously, say something please. Call me out. I won’t be mad. You’ll make my day.) Not that those things are bad, but my creativity suffers when I spend too much time around that stuff. Like I said earlier, my art has suffered this year and I am sick of the shallow end. I need a detox.
So, what are your guys plans for the summer?
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