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nursed the shoreline like a wound

15 Jan

Some time when I was in high school, I took a picture of this tree and Photoshopped it to look sad and angry. I think I used the inverse image, then I turned up the contrast so much that only two colors remained, and then I made them both a shade of red, like fire. I wrote a blog entry on Xanga that was supposed to vaguely explain how this tree was a symbol of my very complicated thoughts concerning love and adolescence.


It’s funny, right? I mean, I’ve changed. I like to think I’ve grown up. But I worry that this picture, taken a year ago, will say embarrassing things about me in the future. How much more do I have to grow up to stop thinking that everything I did before was stupid?

I don’t know. I just don’t. Anyway. ANYWAY. That reminds me.

I wrote a short story in 2008, mostly about breasts. I hate it. I have good reason to hate it. And if you didn’t hate it as well, I’d question your judgement. Here is a paragraph:

In the sixth grade, she wasn’t much of a threat with her multicolored braces and denim overalls. She just kind of hung out in the back of the playground, unnoticed, probably working on some sort of human fertilizer that would, over the summer, cultivate a set of assets we thought no seventh grader could possibly attain. As the years passed, I stood by helplessly, watching as her chest grew and grew, sometimes, in the right light and angle, encompassing my entire field of vision. I felt stunted and unfortunate in their presence.

First of all, assets? Really? That’s original. Second–well, it just sounds bad. And what kind of substance is a reader supposed to get from this? I am just so disgusted.

This is what I feel like I am writing now. Not RIGHT NOW. But that story I’m working on seems to be heading in that direction. It’s probably already there. It’s probably been there for a while now, waiting for me to come running behind it, breathless and just hopeful enough to be crushed entirely by my recognition. My life is sad again. Just like high school. Just like that fiery red tree in the photograph. And it’s raining now. Like, really. God is crying because I suck at writing.

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3 Responses to “nursed the shoreline like a wound”

  1. Matty January 16, 2012 at 3:42 pm #

    Do you ever listen to “This American Life”? If you do, you know that Ira Glass is amazing. When I read this thing I’m linking you to, it made me feel better, and then it made me want to work harder. I hope it has the same effect on you.

    http://writerunderground.com/2011/04/28/ira-glass-on-creativity-or-the-gap-between-our-taste-and-our-work/

    • jenibo January 16, 2012 at 7:03 pm #

      I have never listened to that, but I have read that thing by Ira Glass in video form! I added it to my favorites on Youtube, and everything! It did make me feel a lot better. I just can’t wait until my work reflects my “good taste,” if that’s what this is.

      But thank you for linking me to this and letting me hear it again. I should listen to this at least once every month.

      I hope your batch is going well, too!

  2. KKai Orkut January 16, 2012 at 9:16 pm #

    Thanks for sharing the video clip.
    Never really consider myself as being creative, but I still like to create. 🙂

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