Gallery of Writing, Anniversaries and Why I Write

This little bit of feedback made waking up at 6:53 AM (I set my alarm to odd times, a personal quirk), battling the Connector traffic for an hour ( I did not leave Midtown until 8:30 AM), arriving late to my 9:30 AM class in Athens, and reading a slightly acerbic/passive aggressive email from my father worth all the effort.

Hello, Patrique . . . “The things they don’t tell you about HIV” has been accepted into the following gallery: Gallery of NCTE. This was a moving account–and very honest.

Gallery of Writing – The things they don’t tell you about HIV,   (for those who haven’t read it yet).

No rest for the weary, as the saying goes.

I think, as a writer, that kind of feedback is what makes writing worth all the effort. That little gem right there has made up for the well-intentioned but somewhat detached feedback I’ve received all semester on my writing from all my teachers. True, risk is not spelled “ridk,” but between commuting, reading, juggling schedules and places to be while trying to churn out papers I’m surprised I even manage to turn in something.

What also made the feedback more enjoyable is that I’ve entered a period I’ve begun to refer to as the ‘doldrums.’ It’s a two-and-a-half week period that usually starts around the end of October and doesn’t let up until my birthday has safely passed. And it’s a period that’s packed with a veritable minefield of memories, both good and bad. My father’s birthday. The passing of my grandmother.  Halloween. Longer nights and shorter days. The change in seasons. And the anniversary of my diagnosis. Dear had noticed I was feeling below average yesterday and the night before. He made me laugh with corny jokes and then asked what was wrong, besides the usual post-weekend tristesse. I told him I wasn’t really sure, and never am until I’ve had time to think about it. But the simple fact that he asked, and made me laugh at corny jokes was enough to make getting up this morning just a bit easier. It helped that he reminded me of those who have it worse. It helps that I’m a sucker for corny jokes. And I guess it also helps that Dear used to be a pastor, and has a very gentle soul. That, coupled with the quoted feedback above, and I somehow manage to put everything in perspective. I’ve a penchant for making mountains appear out of slight bumps.

Perhaps some day I’ll be a professional writer (somehow make money off writing); perhaps not. Either wayI write because I love it. And I’ll continue to do it, not simply heeding to Rilke’s advice of searching deep within my soul and finding out that writing, and art  for that matter, is akin to breathing, but because I find myself and I find others through writing and reading. Art is just but one of the ways that the journey through life is made a bit less solitary.

And for those who don’t know:

The National Gallery of Writing is a virtual space—a website—where people [...] select and post writing that is important to them. The Gallery accommodates any composition format—from word processing to photography, audio/video recording to text messages—and all types of writing—from letters to lists, memoirs to memos.

The National Gallery of Writing is now accepting submissions and will continue to accept writing through June 1, 2010. The National Gallery on Writing was unveiled to the public on the National Day on Writing (October 20, 2009) and will remain open for submissions/viewing/reading through June 30, 2010. The Gallery will provide a lively reading experience and an opportunity for writers to share their craft and find a broad and diverse audience. And, all writers can find useful tips and guidelines from the National Council of Teachers of English website.

I’ll also apologize in advance for the absence. The next couple of weeks will be a slammer. Two 7-page papers, a mountain of reading, an upcoming reading (AQLF begins on November 4th at locations throughout Atlanta), submission deadlines; all peppered with birthdays and anniversaries to be remembered.